Happy Thursdays everyone,
I want to start out today's flight with a bit of an explanation on the way I see both fantasy stories and magic. One of the key ideas on OUAT is that magic has a price. Long ago, when I was a kid, I wrote stories where I was a space pirate with magic. Somewhere along the way, I realized that for the amazing to matter and for it to feel real, the heroes must somehow sacrifice. Fantastic miracles can happen, but there should be a cost when they do. So, I can't promise you there won't be death or other bad things in this story. In fact, that's very much on the table. What I can promise is that for any price, there will be a reward of equal measure. Also, that end will be, will always be, a Swanqueen happy ending.
That being said, you can ignore all that for this chapter. Today's flight the ladies play a game and contemplate the names of monsters.
Should you wish to express your disagreement for any of the above or call me Dr. Grimmcgrim, I can be always be reached on the Twitter.
This, is your captain speaking.
Darkshadow-lord - Thanks very much for your support and for commenting.
Fate Is Worse Than Death a.2 - I definitely appreciate the kind words. GoH is my first serious attempt at the fantasy genre. It's very much been a learning experience. Welcome aboard!
rondaday1 - Glad you are enjoying!
betagamma - Indeed they are a team. A forced team, but one none the less. I think you hit on something really important which is that they MUST rely on and trust one another right now. This is making them realize things both about themselves and one another.
The author wrote this prophecy:
She who was born of stone heart will lay down her head.
She who darkened her heart will be confronted by light.
The hero who refuses to yield will seek forgotten doors of knowledge.
She will be twenty-eight when she says, "So shall it be."
The queen will scream her defiance and surrender.
Through death will there be renewal in Ivory halls.
They will wonder then at the power of hope.
We naturally veer away from uncertainty. It is a human instinct. We tend to interpret prophecies literally or make assumptions based on the bias of current context. Truth is a thing in motion, informed by time and distance. Yet we desire absolutes so deeply that we will fight wars and live our lives around things we cannot know.
Hamil Lukas
A Review of the Author's Prophecies
Garden of Heroes
Of Bad News and Planning
The sound of rapid footsteps approaching bounced against the cavern walls. As they came closer, a series of clicking sounds, like two sticks clacking together repeatedly, followed. Regina's heart jolted in her chest. She grabbed for a weapon and found a fist-sized rock.
Emma burst out of the dark.
"What..."
The savior tossed the torch on the ground and snuffed it out. She grabbed Regina around the waist, helped her to her feet, and scattered the fire with several kicks, enveloping them in complete darkness.
She pulled them onto a shelf in the cave wall. They teetered there, not quite flush against the rock. They were uncomfortably close. Emma's rapid breathing was loud against Regina's ear. Her muscular body pressed against Regina's back, tense and ready.
The clicking grew louder but slowed as it advanced toward them. Regina's vision adjusted enough for her to see the giant creature's shape in the dark—thin, bent legs hoisting a larger torso.
A tap.
Another.
She accidentally shifted and pain spiked up her leg. She had to bury her head into Emma's arm to contain the sound.
The creature leaned forward, then turned as if considering where its quarry might have gone. Regina could just make out its bulbous abdomen as it took another step closer. It would surely reach the ground just below where they hid in a few more steps.
The tapping came once. Twice. So loud. So close.
Emma raised her sword, as if the idiot were going to suddenly charge forward.
"A rock," she whispered into Emma's ear.
"What?"
Regina showed her the rock she still held in her hand. The savior shook her head, not understanding how it could help them. Regina rolled her eyes and heaved it as far as she could, hoping it would land somewhere behind the monster and distract it. Her aim, which had rarely been tested in her day-to-day life, was true. The rock thudded behind the creature, rolling briefly before finally resting. The creature skittered after it, clicking violently as it tried to chase down the noise.
Emma helped her down. When they were on the ground, she hefted Regina over one shoulder. She placed her hand against the wall and followed it south.
The tapping grew closer once again, the creature moving back in their direction. Emma kept going, cursing under her breath.
"Where is it," she muttered and then suddenly stopped. She lowered Regina and half-carried, half-dragged her into the narrower part of the cave they'd traveled through the day before.
They went through and rested when the path widened again, hoping the spider couldn't squeeze through the bottleneck. Regina closed her eyes and listened as hard as she could.
Tapping. She clutched at Emma's gown. It felt like it was on their heels, crawling ever nearer.
But it stopped. It bent, and poked its head into the smaller part of the passage, unable to fit its body. Regina did not expect its head to be round, the shape of a skull.
The head turned one way then another before it straightened. It clicked several times but then moved away.
She felt Emma relax behind her, slowly loosening her hold. When the savior tried to pull away, however, Regina held on.
"Wait." Regina was horrified to realize that she felt comforted by being so close to someone else, that her nerves needed it.
In the dark, she couldn't see the savior's expression, could barely make out the lines and shape of her face. Emma became someone else other than her life-long enemy. Regina stopped being the evil queen. The evil queen couldn't show weakness, couldn't be scared, couldn't just want to go home. She needed to be anyone else but her now.
"We're okay," Emma said.
"We are far from okay." Resignation dried the combativeness from her words.
"We're alive."
Regina nodded slowly.
"Let me help you sit down, okay?"
That bland voice again, nothing behind her words at all. She helped lower Regina to the ground. Regina noticed for the first time that the savior always waited after helping, making sure she was okay before letting go.
"What was that thing?" She wrapped her arms around her middle.
Emma crouched in front of her. Regina could only make out her outline. "Wait. Before we go into that, Taz is a sword again." She stared at the sword, holding the flat of the blade in both of her hands. "But this time he won't answer me. It's not like before when he was trapped as a sword. It's like he's not there at all." The words were spoken with some degree of puzzlement but without any other deviation from an impersonal assessment. "I usually feel a connection between us. It's not there either. At least we can still use him as a weapon."
"You just risked your life to save that sword," Regina said. Her gaze was a combination of disbelief and agitation. Emma's brow wrinkled, thinking that perhaps she'd offended Regina. "Why aren't you worried? You should be frantic that you can't feel the bond. You were just chased by some monster. You should be panicking."
Emma rose. "I'm just trying to stay logicial."
"Logical," Regina repeated, the word feeling like acid on her tongue. She sat up as much as she could. She shivered as an icy gust of wind sent a deep sensation of pins and needles all over her body. "Why are you so damned calm? Why does nothing ever seem to get to you, Savior?"
The savior seemed frozen by the questions. She cleared her throat. "Look, this isn't the most important thing right now."
No, it wasn't. Regina didn't care.
Unbidden, the first few lines of the prophecy jumped into Regina's mind.
"She who was born of stone heart will lay down her head.
She who darkened her heart will be confronted by light.
The hero who refuses to yield will seek forgotten doors of knowledge."
Regina didn't let herself become distracted, not yet. An idea laid down a foundation in the back of her mind and began to build. It just needed time.
In the darkness, Emma became just a disembodied voice and an easy target.
"What is wrong with you? I could almost understand you leaving me here, completely alone, if you ever seemed to react to anything at all," Regina said, her anger and fear squirming inside her. "People do stupid things in the name of love—but then they act out of desperation or pain or hope. You don't seem to feel any of those things. You aren't even reacting to losing your friend." This was her way of pounding her fists against the savior, unceasing and violent. "You left me. After all of your talk about cooperation. And then you come back here facing loss without being impacted in any way. You could have been killed." Her voice grew louder and she had to remind herself that there was danger nearby. "You could be dead. And I'd have died alone in the dark."
"So, you think what happened to Taz is permanent?" the savior asked, still without a ripple of emotion.
"That's what you took from what I said?"
"No, I just don't know what you want me to say."
Regina heard the sound of shifting fabric and could make out Emma moving close. Sitting beside her.
The savior grunted, leaned the sword against the wall and pressed her hand to her side. After a moment, she lifted her palm, examining it.
"What is it?" Regina asked.
"It's nothing."
"Dammit, Savior."
"The spider thing bit me." She probed near her hip again and flinched. "Well, more nipped. It's not bad."
The rush of adrenaline that had filled Regina when Emma returned to camp drained away. With a trembling hand, Regina smoothed her wild hair back from her face. "If your side is bleeding, we should look at it."
"We can't. Nothing to make a fire with. We'll—we can head back to camp later, but it's probably not a good idea right now. In case that thing comes back. It's honestly just a scratch."
The dark, now that they would be trapped in it for some time, became suffocating, as if it wrapped around them more and more tightly with each passing moment.
"Um, another thing," Emma said. "I may have heard more than one spider. I'm not sure, I was kinda busy running. It could have just been echoes, I guess." She paused. "The only way for me to know would to go back."
"Which would be ludicrous."
Emma stilled. "Well…"
Exhaustion drove away any edge from her voice. "You cannot be serious."
"Look, we have two options. We can go south, back toward where we landed, or north toward the spider. We know what's south. But, the cavern where I found Taz is only about twenty feet across. The tunnel on the other side leads to the bridge. Maybe we could sneak past the spider or spiders or whatever. It's an option, right?"
"And how would we both manage to sneak across? I have a broken leg."
"I'll carry you."
"And our supplies?"
"I'll make two trips."
Regina couldn't help but laugh, everything now felt surreal. "I'm so tired," she said, "of being in pain. And cold. And terrified. And having ludicrous choices." She thought she heard tears in her voice; she felt them against the back of her throat but her eyes were dry.
"Regina." She couldn't recall Emma using her first name before. "I'm not sure what the hell to say. I'm not saying we have to go north, but I just feel like we should at least scout it out. I should, ah, also mention that the spider wasn't a spider. Well, not only a spider. You know centaurs? Well, it kinda had the body of a spider instead of a horse, and then the top half was a human skeleton."
Regina sighed.
"And, I dropped the pickaxe. It's not that far but—"
"Please, just stop."
The savior quieted.
The silence made her more aware of the endless dark. She focused on Emma, using her as a distraction. She needed stillness but not to feel alone.
"Could you help me sit next to you, please?" Regina asked. "I can barely see you."
Emma did. Both of them sat almost shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the wall. She could feel, or imagined she could, the heat from Emma's body, providing her a slight reprieve from the cold. They sat in silence for some time until Emma began to drum her fingers against the cave floor. She understood; the silence and the lack of sight made every moment seem much longer than usual.
"Perhaps it would help if we conversed. About anything but these caverns."
"Well, my friend August used to make us play this game. He was big on members of the rebellion bonding before a mission. I always thought it was kinda stupid but, we could try it?" Emma must have taken her silence as some kind of encouragement. She explained further, "Usually we played around campfires in groups of six of so. One person asks a question and says their own answer to it, then they call on someone else to answer the same thing. You can pass on questions, if you want. And in the interest of me not annoying you even more, we could stick to safe topics. You want to give it a go?"
Regina's pride reared its head, and she wanted to refuse. Yet she could not make herself. "Very well."
"Why don't I start? Um, well, you know the answer to how old I am but how old are you?"
"That question is simply rude."
"Your Majesty." Emma said, a heavy reminder in her voice that Regina had, at least tentatively, agreed to this.
"Fine. The truth is that I am not entirely certain. After I turned sixty, I refused to keep track. I continued to mark the day but not my age."
"How are you that old?"
"Magic. I elongated my life with a spell. I cast the same one on Rochinate."
"So you and that horse will never die?"
Regina couldn't help her sardonic reply. "To some degree, that depends on you and what happens when we get out of here."
"I didn't mean it that way."
"Everything dies. However, the spell allows someone to live for a very long time. Depends on the quality of the ingredients, the point at which the spell is cast and the power of the caster. The crown might have amplified the effects. I am not sure. It has a strong presence within it, though it has never spoken with me like Taz does with you. I believe it is my turn, is it not? Your magic item, how long have you had it? I have had the crown since a few months after your parents married. "
Emma instinctively lay her hand on Taz's blade. "I got him when I was six. He's just always been there." She pointed to her head. "Or here." Emma paused, thinking. When she finally asked her question, Regina got the impression she was looking away from her. "What's the nicest thing you've ever done? I host a festival for townspeople at the edge of the Moon Forest. Well, the rebels do anyway. The next one is in a couple of months. I'm not the brains of the rebellion, I'm more the sword arm and the mascot. But I always go to the festival. Even after I..."
A pop of something hit the ground a few yards from them. They froze. Regina closed her eyes tightly.
They both waited.
When no further noises came, they slowly let down their guard.
"So anyway," Emma said. "I became a farmer for awhile there."
Regina couldn't remember the original question, fear having scattered her concentration. "You were a farmer?"
"Yeah. Planted crops and everything. I liked it. It was peaceful."
Regina could not get her mind around such an image. "And the rebellion and the lords just let you play Farmer Brown?"
"I can be stubborn."
"Yes, I have noticed that."
Emma nudged her, something that felt far too informal, but perhaps for the moment could be tolerated. "You still owe me an answer on the 'nicest thing you've done' question."
After she made Snow a statue, the years trickled by, leaving little trace of their passage. She furiously waged her war on heroes and chased magical knowledge. Her collections became much more important to her than anything else. Time wore away most of her anger, but it could still be summoned more easily than any other emotion. She sought to think more than to feel, her and her black heart.
Then the mirror showed her Henry. She wanted more for him but had no path nor any understanding of how to build one. He mattered but not in any practical way. Not yet.
To answer Emma's question she would have to admit it had been at least twenty-seven years since she had considered someone else, much less tried to act on their behalf.
"I shall pass on that question," Regina said with a casual air. "I also cannot think of anything to ask. Perhaps this is a good time to stop the game."
Emma shrugged and reached for her sword. She straightened her legs and lay the blade across them. "We should take turns on watch. Just in case."
"Do you think you can manage to not blindly run off toward your doom if I go to sleep?"
"Okay, point taken. I charged off and I did it without your agreement. In my defense, it's kinda just what I do. Habit."
"Well, my habit is to kill those who desert me. I have modified my behavior, given the circumstances."
"I'm just saying that I don't do it on purpose. I guess I've always thought that it's just what a hero does."
"And you're a hero?"
"No, but I'd like to be one day. I just think people have to earn stuff like that." Regina's eyes jumped to Emma's face and strained to make out her expression. "In the meantime, I am gonna keep my promise about getting us out of here."
Her mother had constantly lied to her "for her own good." Her father's strength wavered too many times for her to depend on him, though she had faith in his intentions. Show White wanted to see herself as good so badly that her motives couldn't be trusted, though she always kept her word. The lords of the kingdom swore fealty and a hundred other things but meant nothing they said.
The savior, though, she believed her—intent, strength and words.
The discovery was odd and unwelcome.
"Savior," she said before sleep took her. "About your vermin. I do not believe the change to him is permanent. I told you, magic things cannot be randomly destroyed. But there are traps or spells that can cancel out magic. At least temporarily."
She wasn't sure if simply offering the truth was the same as compassion. It would be foolish and unlike her to fall prey to sentiment over their temporary alliance.
##############################
Emma's eyes kept closing without her meaning them to. Regina had taken the first watch; this was hers. She should stand. Move around. Just the thought of it exhausted her further. She just wanted to sleep.
She didn't feel fear, only the usual detachment. She couldn't stop her mind from reaching the conclusion over and over that things were desperate. No Taz. No food. Monsters in to the north and the south. One weapon—Taz in his dormant state.
What did you do, when logic didn't seem to help at all? When it told you you were screwed?
Taz would say…she tried to think of it. Her best friend's constant council escaped her at the moment. She thumbed through her memories to find anything that might be helpful.
"You can do great things, if you hope and believe, Emma."
Her mother's letters.
They didn't exactly offer anything she could use right now. She didn't have hope. Never had. A hero needed a heart for that.
"You'll make mistakes, Emma. Trust the wrong people sometimes. Or mistrust the right people. There will be a hundred moments when you don't know what to do. Don't ever be afraid of mistakes, Emma. Make plenty of them. Dive in, fumble, take paths that everyone tells you are wrong but you think might be right. Because that's just having a good life. And beyond all else, beyond even seeing you again, that's what I wish for you."
All of that was well and good when life and death wasn't on the line but, what about when it was?
She started to take an action without thinking, before fully realizing what she was about to do.
"Regina," she whispered. "Hey, you awake?"
She fought through a dozen mental arguments before her hand reached out, sliding lightly over Regina's.
The connection to her heart suddenly came alive, flooding her.
She missed her friend. He'd marked so much of her life, like a long path of footprints in the snow. She needed him to be okay. She wondered if one day she would be able to laugh with him or to react him calling her "little bit" or his endless faith in her.
She brought the pommel close and kissed it, then held it close.
Taz would say that either north or south would be quite the adventure.
She smiled at the thought. A brightness touched her, like light reflecting off a lake and making the water shine.
She wondered if that was what hope felt like.
#########################
Regina felt clearer after resting, a surge of mental energy filling her.
"You said that the spider was skeletal—the top half?" Emma nodded. "Then the school of magic that created it is most likely necromancy."
Emma had no idea what that meant.
"You would start by raising the dead," Regina said. "Then use transfiguration magic to combine it with a dead spider." Emma was certain her face still didn't show any true understanding. "My point is that someone undoubtedly made that thing on purpose. The question is why." She grew pensive. "While I was unconscious you and the bird collected water regularly correct? But the Brylu didn't attack us till we reached this side of the river?"
"Right. So...you think that Flo was made by the same people who made the spider?"
"Flo?"
Emma motioned behind them with her thumb. "The whateveryamacallit we ran into in the river."
"The Brylu. You named it?" Regina shook her head. "Of course you did. There are spells that can trigger if certain conditions are met. But that would usually be in instances where they are guarding something. If that's true, then the farther north we go, the more danger we may run into."
"We can go south but we'd have to navigate the river somehow," Emma reasoned. "I saw wooden planks bracing a part of the tunnel. I could try and get them to make a raft or something. I might collapse the whole tunnel though. Also, 'raft' might be overstating it, cause I have no idea how to build one. I think it would just be the planks tied with lots of string. Which doesn't seem like it will work now that I think about it. Grumpy could do it."
Emma thought she might be babbling a little. Her thoughts were too light, barely attached to her at all. Floating. She wondered if it was the lack of food, then asked herself how long they could survive without it. Days? A week? She didn't know; her lessons about this cave ended with "whatever you do, do not go into the unmapped part."
Regina continued to speak and Emma had to corral her attention to listen. "The Qualsara fled here and lived for many years. They hated magic users. It's possible these are merely ancient traps left behind to keep their secrets. It is said that they tended to work in metal or wood and could create amazing things. It is also said that Muirgein herself dealt with them punishing them for invading the sanctity of her sister's final resting place."
"I barely remember that story, but didn't Muirgein kill her sister in the first place?"
"Yes, and then was filled with remorse, apparently. So much so that she saved Soras's injured unborn child and searched the world for a means to cure her." Her eyes cut towards Emma. "I suppose you would consider that redemption."
"Well, the story would sort of suck if it ended with 'and Muirgein killed her sister. The end.'"
"The whole story is likely a way for simpletons to explain why magic—" She stopped and cleared her throat. "We need to focus. The caverns have always been rumoured to have dark forces within them. But what we are observing is more organized than that. Including what happened to the ball of fluff. Another possibility is that a fellow sorcerer hid something here. Any sorcerer worth anything at all would have an exit near whatever he or she was hiding. Just in case of emergencies. It may be that, even with the risk, north is the best way to go."
"Okay, so I'll scout ahead, recover the stuff from our campsite, then…."
"No. In the spirit of cooperation" —Regina made sure to emphasize the phrase— "we will go together. When we reach the cave with the spiders, you'll proceed forward just enough to assess if we have enough cover to try and sneak past. You will then come back and if we both agree, we will go forward. You will carry the supplies and I will do my best to quietly limp along behind you."
"Regina…"
"You are not going to make that crossing twice. I still need you, Savior. I will let you know when I no longer do. Are we agreed?"
She sounded every bit the queen, a picture of beautiful bravado. Emma knew she should object. It didn't seem heroic, for one thing. But, Emma couldn't really be sure her plan was better than Regina's. She also didn't think there was any chance of changing the queen's mind.
She wondered what she might feel right now, were her hand to find Regina's bare skin. Amusement, maybe. Admiration, perhaps.
Laughter? A grin?
"Well?" Regina demanded.
Emma laid a hand over her heart and bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty."