The Sunflower Aegis was so cold now, Tsubomi thought. The hot desert wind had become a constant companion of hers, one that she always cursed. It was gone now, though, Sandstorm was gone, Erika was gone. The sun and ocean were gone, and the moon took their place.
Yuri was already talking often now, though her voice was still but a whisper, and any sound louder than that would take her aback. She was quiet this morning, so Tsubomi just sat in her bed with a book in hands.
"Tsubomi," Yuri called out from her chair by the window. She got up and sat next to Tsubomi. "What are you reading?"
"Oh, just this book I found at the library yesterday," Tsubomi showed her the cover, a collection of brightly colored flowers in a green field. Yuri didn't seem to recognize it. "It's just a bunch of old fairy tales. When I was a child my grandmother would often tell them to me when I was trying to sleep, and I thought I had forgotten them, but now that I'm reading this book, I can recall everything."
"Can you read one for me?" Yuri asked, her voice so childish now. "My parents never had the time to read me many fairy tales."
"Mine didn't, either," Tsubomi said. "They were always far too busy to do so on the few occasions they weren't away from home."
"Ah, so they left you," Yuri said. It wasn't really true, Tsubomi's parents simply worked in the Sweets Kingdom as diplomats, but sometimes Tsubomi couldn't shake off the feeling that she had been abandoned, so she nodded. "I know that pain as well."
"Is it because your mother is back at Silver Moon and you're here?" Tsubomi asked. She did not ask about Yuri's father; that was far more complicated business, she knew.
"That's the least of it, truth be told," Yuri said, and she closed her eyes for a while. She turned to the window and felt the sun. "Sabaku is my father. You knew that, right?"
"Y-Yes," Tsubomi said. Surely what Yuri was about to say was not easy for her, so it surprised Tsubomi that she would actually mention it. Then again, Yuri was never weak, just hurt.
"Well, I don't suppose our situations are that alike," Yuri held Tsubomi's hand. "I know you're strong, though, for living through that. It made me strong as well," she laughed. "Don't you just wish, sometimes, that you did not have to be so strong?"
No. Tsubomi had never felt like she was anything but a weakling. Would Yuri think she was strong if she saw how she cried every night, crushed by life, by the absence of Erika, by the solitude. Oh, the very thought of Erika kept Tsubomi awake at night, brought tears to her eyes. With windows closed, with the sun set, her bedroom seemed so dark, so tiny, and she could not lay still. She would get up and cry as she thought of home, sit down and cry as she thought of Erika, punch the walls and cry as she thought of how she would have to wake up the next day and life would still be empty. She wanted to go home, she wanted to see Erika, and right now those two felt like the same thing.
She nodded anyway.
"Ah, yes, the story," Tsubomi recalled. "Well, there's this story I really find quite interesting. It's not very well known in the south, though, my grandmother told me."
That did not surprise Tsubomi at all. Her story was not a very happy fairy tale, though it was still her favorite. In the south they loved stories about cute critters and fairies. She looked back at the book's cover. The Flower Songs, it was called, and right below the title it said that those were true tales of Märchenland. A fanciful land of fairies where the stories in books that were told to children were born. An older part of the world, where animals still talked, where anything could happen, or so she was told. Tsubomi could not wrap her head over how all those stories had happened once, many centuries ago. She thought of the Bad End Kingdom, those rebels from the land of beings who were villainized in those tales. What could be expected from those who were despised by all but to despise them back? Surely not all witches were evil, but they were all hated, they all joined the Bad End Kingdom, and they all perished with it.
"This story is called The Witch's Roses," Yuri looked at her with curious, attentive eyes.
As soon as she read the first sentence, Tsubomi did not have to read anything else, for it was all clear in her head. She could see plains extending into the horizon, bushes full of flowers scattered around, roses being picked by fairies and wolves and humans. When she read the words, she could almost smell the sweet alyssum, the gardenias and jasmines, the scent of the lily-of-the-valley being blown on her face. This world was a garden with beauty everywhere, yet it were the witch's roses that smelled the sweetest and looked the prettiest.
Red and white they were, but purple as well, and blue, pink and yellow, all colors you can think of. In front of the witch's house shone a rainbow of flowers, and denizens from all of Märchenland would visit it. They did not know the woman who lived there was a witch, nor did she herself know it. What she knew was that her garden was a thing of beauty, and she took pride in it.
"Sweet lady, sweet lady, give us a rose!" Pleaded the small fairies. The witch smiled and gently put a flower in their tiny hands. Their mouths opened wide as they thanked her and ran, playing with their roses, laughing.
She gave away so many roses, yet she always had hundreds of them. When someone asked, she smiled and put a finger to her lips. Her secret. That usually made them give up.
Some didn't, though. The witch took them to her house, and promised to show them how she made her roses. They would get in her house, small but cozy. They would feel the warmth and smell not roses but the tea that the witch had just prepared. They would take a seat by her side, and they would talk about their love of flowers, and drink their tea.
Nothing would happen to the witch. Her guests, though, would notice how their legs were turning green, thinner and thinner, and by then it was too late to run or to scream, for their mouth had already closed, and then their eyes and ears, all of them covered by petals. And they would stay there, silent, blind, deaf, and anyone who stared at them would not see a fairy or a wolf or a human or anyone they would recognize as a person. They would see only a beautiful flower of an unusual, gorgeous color, and ask the witch what was her secret. And, just like that, the witch's garden bloomed eternal, and she always had new roses to give.
Of course, it was not eternal anymore. When her secret was discovered, the witch was executed and all the roses in Märchenland were destroyed in an attempt to free all the poor people who were transformed.
"That was a good story," Yuri said, clearly taken aback. "Chilling, but good. I'm glad that kind of thing doesn't happen anymore. How did the witch not know that what she was doing was wrong, though?"
"Well, for starters, she did not know she was a witch at all! She thought she was a kind fairy who brought beauty to the world. In her head, what she was doing was right."
"She should have noticed, though," Yuri clenched her fists.
"The thing is, she was convinced that she was making people happy and that she had to get more roses. Once an idea takes root in your head, you can't just pull it off. And when it enroots your heart, it can devour you. You can do terrible things."
Yuri seemed thoughtful. Perhaps Tsubomi should have told her a nicer, kinder tale, but she always liked this one greatly.
Tsubomi read some other stories, and Yuri always listened carefully and asked many questions. She did not know any of them. Had her parents truly never sat by her bed as she was soon to fall asleep, run their fingers on her hair as they told her a fairytale?
Soon it was time for lunch, and Tsubomi went to the great hall where the sun always shone. Yuri wouldn't leave her quarters, so it was up to Tsubomi to bring her food. By now she already knew Yuri's tastes quite well; fruits and vegetables were her favorites, though she would not refuse meat. She did not eat many sweets, and did not like salt on her food. Tsubomi would just eat the same meals that Yuri was having. She did not always like the taste of them, but she learned that she quite enjoyed peas, and she had fun in arranging the food in the plates so that they would look pretty.
With plates in hand, Tsubomi was about to return to Yuri, when she heard Itsuki call out from behind her. Iris was at by her side, and they ate together.
"Please, Tsubomi, sit down," Itsuki said. "How is Yuri?"
"She cannot transform yet, but she's talking a lot now. She's grown used to the warmth, she said."
"We all do," said Iris. "It's pretty pleasant after a while, really."
"If Yuri cannot transform, though, we have a problem," Itsuki said. "It's because of her fairy, right? What happened to Cologne?"
"She won't tell," Tsubomi said, but it was plain to see that Yuri had lost her fairy. Dead, Yuri said when she was found in the Great Desert. That was all she said that day, and when she was done talking, she cried.
"She'll need to talk about it someday," Itsuki said, coughing into her hand as she did when she had something serious to say. "Cure Moonlight is the most esteemed Precure of our time. To see her in this state is worrying, and worst of all, I don't know how we'll keep the Desert Apostles away without her."
"D-Do you think Sandstorm will fall?" Tsubomi thought of all the things that could happen to Erika, all at once.
"It's likely," Itsuki said, and Tsubomi broke, but she kept silent. She just wanted to get up and run to meet Erika, to help her, but what help would a weakling like her be? "If Sandstorm holds for two more days, our troops scattered around the region can assemble and I will try to lift the siege, but I am not that hopeful."
"You left Erika there to die..." Tsubomi closed her fists, her nails piercing her own hands. It hurt, but if she stopped, then her hands would be at Itsuki's throat.
"No!" Itsuki yelled. She was not angry, nor offended. Only sad. "I left her there because I trust her. Because she can hold Sandstorm for as long as we need for our counterstrike. They will not kill a Precure, believe me."
"But... That's what they do, isn't it? Kill Precures, torture them..."
"Well," Itsuki seemed ashamed. "That's a lie. Truth be told, we kill them more often than they kill us. The Precure Kingdom called them bloodthirsty savages so that our troops would fight more fiercely, and would not feel guilt. They won't kill Erika as long as she does not do anything stupid like attacking Sabaku."
"It was a lie, then? All those tales? You knew it?" Iris and Itsuki both nodded.
"Some cities under the rule of the Desert Apostles weren't conquered, but surrendered willingly," Iris said. "Sandstorm wouldn't, they are under our influence, but many others did."
"So... Why are we fighting?"
"They want to leave the Great Desert, where no crops can grow, where the sun cooks you alive. They want to get to the Precure Kingdom, or at least to the lands close to the Sunflower Aegis," Itsuki said. "But there is no space for them. They are too many."
"So they are fighting because they don't want to die? That's it?"
"That's it?" Itsuki's eyes pierced. "Life is a very noble thing to fight for, perhaps the noblest, worthiest cause. We are fighting because we don't want to die, either. They aren't savages, but they are still killers, and how do you think the Precure Kingdom would suddenly be able to feed a million mouths once the Desert Apostles settle down? Our citizens will starve just as theirs, and there is hatred between us. There would be fighting, the kingdom would divide, enemies could appear and strike during our moment of weakness."
This was all too painful for Tsubomi. Both sides were right, or at least they were convinced they were right, and they both did terrible things. Witch's roses indeed, but this was not pretty at all.
"I'm sorry, Tsubomi. I wish things were easy. It brings me no joy, but I must do my duty. We all must do our duty."
Tsubomi nodded and left as soon as she could. Thorns embraced her heart; her duty was not to a kingdom, but to all living beings, to all who needed help. She was a Precure, above all else, but now it seemed that it did not matter much to most. She did not say anything to Yuri, though. She just ate in silence with her and excused herself.
She looked at the bedroom that was once Erika's. It still smelled faintly like Erika, still had her clothes in the wardrobes the way she left them. Her clothes were the only things that Erika would bother organizing. Her bed was always a mess, pillows always on the floor, but she had three chests full of shoes, one full of flat boots, one with heeled boots and a smaller chest with a dozen sandals. Tsubomi had taken to wearing Erika's clothes sometimes, though Erika was a bit shorter than her and the clothes did not fit very well; Erika's feet were so tiny, too, it hurt to wear her boots. The very skirt she wore now had been sewed by Erika, made for her family's store.
Tsubomi locked the door and fell down on the bed. If she tried really hard, she could imagine Erika there, with that silly grin of hers. Tsubomi messed up the bed as she cried, and she remembered all the times Erika comforted her when she felt sad or unsure about herself, or when Erika herself could not sleep, so sad she was. They would stay awake in the dead of night until they could fall asleep together. There was no comfort this time. Tsubomi closed her eyes, and meant to sleep, let herself be taken by this silence, in the absence of Erika's laughter.
She heard a horn and her eyes opened wide. She opened the door, and went to Yuri's bedroom. She was frozen, staring at a wall. Tsubomi grabbed her hand, but she did not move.
"Yuri, please, come with me, we have to see what's going on, we have to go meet with Itsuki."
"Me. They'll want me," Yuri said. "I should let them."
"I won't let them get you!" Tsubomi said. "They'll have to kill me if they want you!"
"They'll kill you if they need to. You don't matter to them. It's me they want."
"Then let them kill me! I live for nothing right now, so what does it matter? Not you, though, you're important, more important than me, if it takes my life, then so be it! Please, Yuri, let's go."
"B-But I... Cologne died... Because of them... My life means nothing as well..."
"Don't be foolish!" Tsubomi didn't mean to yell, but she did, and Yuri was startled. "Your life is not over! I don't know how it happened, but I know that if you fight, Cologne still lives, he still matters, but if you give up, then he is truly dead. Please, Yuri."
Yuri nodded, her face blank in shock. They went to the great hall, where a dozen soldiers readied their weapons and moved to the Aegis' gate. Oh, that wouldn't be enough. Itsuki was too far away to hear Tsubomi, but her hair shone golden, brighter than the sun through the ceilings, and she was ready for battle as well.
That did not matter at all when the wall was blown to pieces and the guards were scattered around. Tsubomi and Yuri crouched and hid behind a crate in a corner.
"We need to leave, we can't fight, we have to take news of this to the Palace of Smiles" Tsubomi said. "But how to get out of this hall unseen, I do not know."
Tsubomi took a peek, and she saw Itsuki lay down her axe on the floor. The Aegis, fallen without a battle. What force could possibly have ignored all the defenses? Then she saw Itsuki cower as she laid eyes on the woman clad in all black, her dark wing bigger than a person. In her arms, she carried someone. Yuri cried when she saw the woman.
"No, no, no, not her, not her, she did it, it's her fault, she killed Cologne..."
"Please, Yuri, quiet down..."
"Dark Precure... Rotten, evil... Curse her, curse her..."
Tsubomi put a hand on Yuri's mouth. She was too broken now. The tears streamed down her fingers.
"Where is she?" A man stepped close to Itsuki. His face was hidden behind an iron mask. That was Sabaku, lord of the Desert Apostles, the mastermind who led them to triumph, who abandoned the Precure Kingdom and left his daughter behind.
"Who are you talking about?" Itsuki said, but clearly she knew. She will give us time to escape, Tsubomi said to Yuri. She watched closely.
"Moonlight. My daughter," Sabaku said, with no emotion in his voice. "Give her to us and no one shall be harmed."
"I don't know of her whereabouts," Itsuki's voice did not shake at all. Tsubomi could only hope her face would not reveal the lie.
"Think again," Dark Precure said, her voice deep and cruel. She lifted the person she carried by the hair. Blue hair. Tsubomi did not have any more tears to shed, so she just laughed to herself. "I will kill her right now if you don't help us."
"That won't be necessary," Sabaku said. "No harm will come to her, Sunshine, I promise you, just cooperate."
"Very well. Iris," Itsuki called the girl. "Show them to the secret passages. I had Moonlight escape as soon as she could walk. The passage leads to a small village in the mountains, she's quite far by now, but you can catch her."
Tsubomi looked at Erika again. That monstrous Precure tossed her down on the floor. Tsubomi wanted to get up, show herself, and run to Erika, to hug her, to ease her pain. And she wanted to hurt that woman. But she couldn't. Itsuki had tricked them, and she would not make it all in vain, she would not throw everything away. When the hall was empty, Tsubomi got up with Yuri. They just walked out the front gate, undisturbed. The sun was shining too bright, Tsubomi could not bear to look at it. She just kept walking, leaving the Aegis behind.
"Are you alright, Tsubomi?"
Tsubomi did not answer. She had lost her heart when she left Erika the first time. What did she have to lose now?