Rapunzel was caught between three swords.
The first: Cassandra, who upon seeing the woman on the roof draw her blade, pulled the Princess behind her for her own protection.
The second: Adira, who was caught between fighting off Cassandra's advances and trying to decipher the arrival of their guest.
And the third: the raven-cloaked, skull-faced mystery that drew their long knife atop the roof of the inn, and watched them all scurry beneath her like rodents.
Yet, despite the three swords cast in her direction—including one that was directly being pointed at her—she wasn't afraid for her life. She was more concerned as to how things escalated this quickly. An hour ago, she and Cassandra were lying in a bed together, catching up with each other's lives and genuinely believing that things were starting to look up for them on their long journey to Madrid. Now, everything was falling apart.
Again.
Because of course, it was.
"Look, there are two ways we can do this," the woman on the roof stated, her tone filled with not so much malice, but rather irritation. "The painless way, and the extremely painful way. We'd both prefer the former."
She never said it outright, but it was clear who she was from the moment she took out her sword. Cassandra gritted her teeth and forced Rapunzel further behind her, despite the Princess's efforts to take a stand on her own.
"If you're here to hurt Rapunzel," she threatened. "You're going to have to go through me."
The figure was unamused. "Lady, trust me: That is far less of a threat than you think it is."
Cassandra growled. Who the hell was this woman? As if she didn't have enough to deal with. Adira was standing not even ten feet away from her, eager to slice her in half as payback for the sins she committed months ago, and now there was someone else who was trying to get to Rapunzel. Add onto that her sleep deprivation and the fact she had barely eaten anything in days, and that spelled a fight that she knew she had very little chance of winning. She considered grabbing Rapunzel's arm and high-tailing it out of there. She knew they wouldn't get very far, but she could at least leave the assassin for Adira to deal with. Whoever she was, she was no match for the warrior from the Dark Kingdom.
Then again, when Cassandra glanced back at the white-haired warrior to judge her reaction, she saw a woman just as baffled and concerned as she was. Something about the cloaked figure was bothering the seasoned fighter. That was enough to give Cassandra pause and quiet any intrusive thoughts that told her she would be able to easily escape this.
The figure sighed, and then suddenly jumped off the roof, turning over in midair and landing gracefully on the road behind them. She splashed down in the mud but kept calm and cool, her posture straight and square as she adjusted her feet from her landing. Now on ground level, they could all see just how short she was—she couldn't be taller than five feet, if she was even that lucky. Despite her diminutive stature, however, she remained imposing, dressed like death, and completely unprovoked by Adira and Cass's blades. She kept staring straight at Rapunzel, the gold mask brightly reflecting sunlight off its polished surface, and Cassandra repositioned herself to stand between them before any harm could come their way.
Rapunzel was prepared to confront the woman, when unexpectedly, Adira rushed in front of her, providing yet another human shield. Her words were far more controlled than Cassandra's, though no less pointed.
"No one is going to be harming the Princess," she stated. "If that's what you are after, then you are going to have a problem."
"I don't want a problem. I barely want her dead," said the figure. "But I've been asked to guide her to her death. I can't say no to a request."
Adira's gaze narrowed. Guide her to her death? That phrasing was peculiar. Why was that triggering something in the back of her mind?
"You're an assassin then?" Adira asked, trying to ascertain the truth before the inevitable. "Who hired you? If it's money you're after, she's a Princess. She can pay you double whatever it is to leave her alone."
"Sorry. I don't work for money," the figure stated. Her voice was as small as she was, yet there was some level of maturity there that contradicted her obvious youth.
"What do you work for then?"
"Right now?" the figure said, directing her knife at Rapunzel. "I'm working to save humanity from her. She's been touched by La Muerte Azul. Of all the curses a girl can catch, that might be the most inconvenient. Do you know what her life means now?"
Cassandra spoke up, defending her friend's honor. "Hey! She's not going to hurt anyone, asshole!"
"Of course not," countered the figure. "She's going to hurt everyone. She'll decay and kill every living creature in the world before she's done. When the curse hits its apex, she will become Death itself. It's inevitable."
Rapunzel's heart skipped a beat. That…that wasn't possible. She knew that the curse would grow more powerful, but everything in the world was in danger? Surely, that couldn't be right. There was no way that whatever was inside of her was powerful enough to be that dangerous. But then, she thought of the wasps, and the power that radiated from her when she triggered the curse inside of that cave. All of those insects dead in the blink of an eye. That was what she was capable of after bearing the curse for just a week. If what the woman was suggesting was even partially true…
Adira spoke up before Rapunzel could linger on such terrible thoughts. "You never answered my questions. Who are you, and who hired you?"
Rapunzel felt the figure's eyes narrow on her through her mask. It was all very strange. If this woman was really here to kill her, why hadn't she done so already? What the hell was she stalling for? It definitely wasn't out of the goodness of her heart. No matter what she claimed, she couldn't be that moral. She was a killer, after all. But despite her deathly appearance, there was that young demeanor that was seeping through the cracks. The short height. The higher voice. The fact that she called Cassandra, "Lady." That was a strange thing for one adult to say to another. Rapunzel doubted she was a child, but still, there was something off about her that rendered her hesitant.
"I am the Psychopomp," the figure stated. "I was—"
Adira cut her off with an exacerbated gasp. "Wait. The Psychopomp? But you're—"
"Tired of talking," the assassin said distastefully. "Look, this is going to end with her dying, so she can either come here and let me do it willingly, or I can fight through you. I think we'd all prefer the former."
Rapunzel felt Cassandra place a hand on her shoulder and pull her even further back. She had already made up her mind. She was going to fight someone, whether it was Adira or this Psychopomp woman. Psychopomp…wasn't that Greek? The woman didn't have any distinguished accent though. If Rapunzel remembered correctly, a psychopomp was a creature of myth. They were beings that escorted living things to the afterlife; a fitting title for an assassin, she supposed. Yet, perhaps the most perplexing thing of all wasn't the assassin, but the sudden shift in Adira's posture. The way her fingers shifted and tightened around the hilt of her sword. The very slight quiver in her knee that betrayed a small doubt that Rapunzel couldn't recall ever seeing from her. Her elbow pulled back toward her chest. She seemed defensive. Thrown off her game.
Whatever trepidation Adira felt, Cassandra was the opposite. The former bodyguard wasn't taking the threat of harm toward Rapunzel lightly, and she made no intention of hiding her rage. She was broken down by the elements, her clothes stained from rainwater and mud and dead insect blood. She was running off of maybe five hours of sleep over the past week, and Rapunzel's curse had sent her mind spiraling. And now this woman comes along—Psychopomp? What kind of name was that? She wanted to kill Rapunzel, and she was acting so damn casually about it too. That was her friend she was speaking about. How fucking dare she think that way…
"I'm tired of talking, too," Cass snapped, nearly lunging past Adira's guard and taking a stab at the assassin. "If you want to fight so bad, why don't you just do it already?"
The Psychopomp's body tensed up. She went quiet. The wind seemed to stop blowing, and Rapunzel felt her heart skip a beat. The skull-faced mask showed zero emotion, even as the assassin's voice gave away her immaturity. What was she planning to do? The answer was simple.
Attack.
Rapunzel blinked, and suddenly, the assassin was there right in front of her, blade outstretched and mere inches from piercing her neck. Time slowed to a crawl. She had stormed past Adira and Cassandra before they could even react to her, and in the haze, Rapunzel saw Cassandra's eyes widen with fear and surprise and…and helplessness. A thick, deep trail had imprinted itself in the mud from where she once stood to her feet, where a pair of golden, glowing sandals radiated from beneath her raven cape. Not that Rapunzel noticed it. All she could see was the skull face consuming her vision, and then, there was Eugene. Her tower. Meeting her real parents. Varian. Lance. The kids. Pascal. The blizzard. Cassandra's betrayal. Varian's redemption. Zhan Tiri. Every single moment of her life, each vivid and colorful and lasting less than a fraction of a fraction of a second. She always heard stories of a person's life flashing before their eyes right before they died. She didn't know, however, that she would feel those memories just as powerfully as she could see them. All of her happiness and rage and love and anguish pooled and transfused into a single, horrible moment—right as the cool steel of the Psychopomp's sword touched her skin.
The metal barely nicked her—and then suddenly, at the last moment, Adira battered the Psychopomp away, sending the assassin flying back into the mud.
As the assassin scraped into the mud, the world seemed to unfreeze. The air rushed back into Rapunzel's chest right as she realized it was gone. She stumbled back toward the inn, grasping at her throat. The slightest mark had been left on her neck, not even deep enough to draw blood. She barely had time to find her balance or regain her footing before Cassandra suddenly grabbed onto her arm and pulled her away. She dragged Rapunzel away from the fight frantically, as Adira charged forward, not wasting the opportunity while her opponent was down. Maximus, seeking to protect Rapunzel the best he could, neighed and charged after her, while Fidella followed her owner to cover.
"Come on! Hurry!" Cassandra cried, leading Rapunzel around the side of the inn. When they were out of sight of the assassin, Cassandra grabbed Rapunzel by both shoulders and talked to her as sternly as she could. "Stay here. I'm going to help Adira. If anything happens to me, get on Fidella and get as far away from here as you can!"
It took a moment for Rapunzel to process her friend's words in the chaos, but she didn't truly feel the panic grip her until Cassandra tried to leave.
"Wait, Cass!"
Rapunzel reached for Cassandra's hand, but it just slipped away from her. The fighter raced back into the fray without looking back, going to do the one thing she was ever any good at. Rapunzel watched her with the same cruel powerlessness that had been affecting her for the past week. She instinctively wanted to run after her, but what good would that do? She didn't have her hair, and she was still worse off in a fight than the others. The only thing she would do is get in their way and distract them. Of all the times that her powerlessness had gotten to her, this moment was clearly the most damning.
Cassandra rushed to get back into the fight—not that she knew if she would be any good. The Psychopomp was locked into a battle of swords with Adira, aggressively lashing out with a quick flurry of swipes that barely missed their target. Adira was in control for the moment, keeping on the backfoot, avoiding the strikes rather than parrying them, but she was moving with more care than usual. It was a stark cry from her first encounter with the mysterious warrior from the Dark Kingdom, where she dispelled Cassandra and Rapunzel's attacks without even drawing her sword. The assassin was putting up a fight. Max was trying to assist as well, jutting into the fray and kicking at the cloaked fighter with his hind legs, but she was able to roll away from the stallion's blows and keep the pressure on Adira.
"You're good," the assassin said with a laugh. "Where did you get your training?"
Before Adira could respond, the assassin lunged forward, drawing back her sword. Adira prepared to block, when the Psychopomp's legs suddenly pulsed with energy, and in a golden flash, she suddenly appeared behind Adira, speeding around her guard faster than Adira anticipated. Her back was wide open, and the Psychopomp swung down her short blade hard onto her defenseless target—only to be intercepted at the last moment by Cassandra's sword.
"Back off!" Cassandra pushed the Psychopomp away with her sword, and the assassin tripped and stumbled back into the mud, falling with a disappointed grunt. Adira, stunned, quickly swallowed her sympathies and scolded her savior.
"I had that under control," she grumbled, taking the brief moment of reprieve to regain her composure and adjust her grip on her weapon. Cassandra just smirked at her.
"Sure, you did. That's why I had to save your life."
"You didn't save my life," Adira stated.
Except, well…yes. Yes, she did. And Adira hated to think that.
Regrouped and refocused, Adira, Cassandra, and Maximus formed a line opposing the assassin, who mumbled to herself as she pushed herself up to her feet and brushed off her muddy, feathered cloak.
"So, do you know this lady?" Cassandra asked nervously. "Actually, better question: do you have a plan to take her out?"
"Not one that'd I would say out loud," Adira grunted.
"Okay, so does that mean you do have a plan, or—whoa!"
The words barely left Cassandra's mouth before the Psychopomp charged forward again, charging forward in all of her golden glory. By the third time, Adira had gotten a hang of the timing and intercepted the assassin where she stood, clashing and locking swords.
"It means keep your focus!" Adira answered, struggling to hold the Psychopomp off despite the woman's smaller stature. The assassin groaned.
"Okay, do you people constantly banter when you're fighting people?"
Cassandra dipped forward, lunging past Adira's guard. "Most of the time!"
The Psychopomp shrugged away Cassandra's offense and backpedaled to gain distance. Cassandra and Adira pressed forward, taking turns exchanging swipes at the assassin's head. Adira swung from the right. Cass countered to the let. Adira followed up from beneath. A forward thrust from Cass. An overhead swipe from Adira. They followed each other's lead, pacing their swipes to create a constant stream of attacks toward the assassin, and though each one was deflected, they could see the Psychopomp struggle to keep up with the pressure.
"Honestly, that's pretty tiring," the Psychopomp gasped.
"You get used to it!" Cassandra shouted, picking up her pace. Adira attempted to charge forward, but Cassandra moved in front of her, eager to strike at the woman who dared to threaten her best friend. Adira couldn't do anything to stop her except growl and wait for her to attack, not allowing herself to give the assassin an opening to strike. Cassandra moved to take the center position, practically standing in front of Adira and leading the charge to push the Psychopomp away from the inn, driven by her desire to protect the Princess. The Psychopomp kept back on her heels. She was losing the battle. Her sword wasn't strong enough to consistently deflect Cassandra's hard strikes. She just had to push a little harder. A little bit more. Almost there.
Unfortunately, Cassandra's emotions were running high, and she was inexperienced from months without proper combat, and she hadn't realized just how psychically exhausted she was from all the travel. She didn't realize just how much she had cut herself from Adira and Max's support until it was too late. She screamed, throwing all of her weight behind a stab aimed at the assassin's heart, but she used up too much of her energy. The blow whiffed like the others, and her boot lost traction in the mud, sliding her forward and knocking her off-balance. The Psychopomp took advantage of her haste, grabbing her wrist with her free hand and yanking her to the ground. Her sword clattered away from her, and for the moment, she was left defenseless—enough for the assassin to sense an opportunity to attack, and plunge her blade forward toward the defenseless woman.
For Adira, watching the situation unfold in front of her, it seemed inevitable. It all happened within a moment's time. Cassandra being too brash, losing her footing and her weapon, falling to her mysterious foe. All because the woman couldn't keep her emotions in check for two damn minutes. And now, she was about to die, snuffed out like so many others. She was so stupid for getting herself into that mess, and for just an instant, Adira considered not saving her. There was no love lost between them, after all, and it was a rightful punishment for getting in her way, for controlling her mind and trying to destroy Corona. It would job of capturing Rapunzel so much easier.
Just for an instant, she thought that. Just an instant.
Then, without hesitation, regret, or doubt, she rushed forward to save Short Hair's life. Because of course, she would.
It was a shame then that her life was hardly in any danger at all; that the Psychopomp's attack on the defenseless Cassandra was just a ploy to draw out the far more threatening target. Adira had to rush forward through the heavy mud to save Cassandra, and to deflect the short sword away, she had to duck down low and expose herself to an easy attack. Adira swooped in and struck away the short sword before it could strike its target, but the Psychopomp found her opening. She flicked her other wrist, and from the shadows of her cloak, a small, forked metallic rod snapped out into view. Cassandra watched from the floor, recoiling and flimsily guarding herself, as Adira pushed the sword away from her using her entire body weight, exposing her left side to the Psychopomp's new weapon. The assassin thrust the weapon forward, jamming the two prongs into Adira's shoulder—and when the Brotherhood member cried out, a sudden, jagged pulse of electricity shot through her, crackling brightly and reflecting into the sullen grey sky.
Adira's entire body tensed up, and soon, she was even unable to scream as her throat tightened and her body went numb. She froze in her tracks as the electricity surged through her, and when the Psychopomp thought she had enough, she drew back the electric prod and watched as the noble fighter dropped to the earth like a stone, fidgeting in pain as she struck the ground.
"Adira!" Cassandra cried out.
The Psychopomp laughed mockingly. "Ha! Not fast enough for that one, were you?"
From across the muddy street, Maximus neighed, snarling and more determined than ever. He dragged his hooves through the mud and charged forward, but the Psychopomp was ready for him as well. She had all the time in the world to raise up her arm, exposing another strange device attached to her wrist.
"Sorry, horsey. Hate to do this to you."
Cassandra felt helpless as the device on her wrist flicked open, revealing some sort of mounted crossbow. Maximus charged forward, but a small arrow struck him in the leg, and suddenly, though it barely pierced his skin, he was forced to a stop. Cassandra didn't understand what froze him until, with horrified alarm, she watched as the pointed tip of the arrow and the white fur beneath change color, growing static and turning a dark sickly grey. Maximus let out a panicked cry, trotting backward and glaring at his leg as it gradually grew stiff, the grey matter quickly traveling up to his body and his neck. Cassandra could only watch, confounded and terrified, as the noble steed that accompanied her on so many adventures was slowly petrified, frozen—and within mere seconds, turned to stone right before her very eyes.
She couldn't believe her eyes. It wasn't real. Was…was he dead? No. Impossible. Max couldn't be dead. What did that assassin do to him? What else was she capable of? All of those powers…they had seemingly come out of nowhere. Speed sandals. A lightning baton. Arrows capable of turning people to stone. Where did this one woman gather such powerful magical artifacts? In all their journeys, they had never come across someone holding so much power at the tip of their fingers. How was Cassandra even supposed to fight against something like that? The Psychopomp stood over her, proud of her work, and Cassandra's heart sank as she realized that even more powerful items could be hiding beneath that raven-feathered cloak. Adira was incapacitated. Max was turned to rock. Rapunzel…oh, God, what was she planning on doing to Rapunzel?
"Well, that was slightly harder than I thought it would be," the Psychopomp sighed, twirling her short sword between her fingers. "So, now that that's over with…any chance you want to just let me have the cursed girl?"
Cassandra's fear turned to bitterness, and though she was lying face down in the mud and couldn't fight back, she gritted her teeth and turned her anguish into fiery defiance.
"Go to hell," Cass growled, turning toward the mud. The Psychopomp rolled her eyes beneath her mask.
"Already been there, girl. Trust me."
Cassandra's mind scrambled for any plan of action. Attack. She had to find some way to attack. There had to be one last final trick she could pull.
And then, through the panic and the fear, the answer came to her, clear as day. How could she so easily forget?
The Psychopomp, finished with their battle, began to move past the mud-prone woman, when she suddenly stuck two gloved fingers into her mouth, and as loud as she could, she whistled sharply, drawing the assassin's attention back to her. The Psychopomp titled her head, perplexed as she calmly walked back toward her opponent. Cassandra braced herself on the ground as the assassin adjusted her grip on her blade.
"What? You calling for help?" the Psychopomp taunted.
Cassandra shut her eyes. Nothing was happening. Why was nothing happening?
"Oh, wait. You're just stalling. Right?"
The Psychopomp looked left and looked right. Clearly, the whistle was a sign for calvary, but there was no one else in sight, save for the stone horse and the warrior still twitching in the mud. Cassandra clenched her fist. Come on. What was taking so long?
"You know, I probably shouldn't leave you alive I guess," the Psychopomp noticed, calmly stepping over Cassandra, hovering over her defenseless form. "Although, let me just say: maybe don't talk as much during battle. It's actually pretty hard to concentrate—"
A sudden, vicious screech filled the air, and the Psychopomp immediately looked upward—just in time to see the owl divebombing her, clawing at her face.
The assassin screamed, stumbling back and swatting at the air as the owl assaulted her, swooping its talons down toward his favorite target: the eyes. Cassandra perked up her head at the sounds of screaming, and seeing her pet return to her, she smiled wickedly.
"That a boy, Owl! Get her!" She cheered him on, and Owl screeched with enthusiasm, violently swatting at clawing at the assassin's mask.
"Ack! Get off of me, you stupid bird!" the Psychopomp screamed, desperately trying to throw the bird off of her. Owl refused to relent, however, following his master's commands. His talons swiped hectically at the Psychopomp's masked face until he was finally able to hook his grip into something: the dark, vulnerable spots covering her eyes. The assassin cried out in pain as Owl hooked into her face, and with all of her effort, she managed to wrap her hands around his body and throw him away from her. The bird was thrown to the ground, but his talons remained hooked within the mask, and the golden shield flew away from the assassin's face with him. He recovered quickly, flying up and away, taking her protection with him, and the hooded woman looked up to the sky and cursed at him angrily. With a furious growl, she turned back to Cassandra, and for the first time, Cassandra could finally gaze upon the face of the woman who tried to kill them.
She was young. Probably younger than she was. Her hair was so curly and stringy that it fell in coils around her face. Her coffee-colored skin was smooth, only worn away by the fresh cuts near her eyes that Owl left with his talons. Her lapis gaze was squinted and filled with a burning rage, and her thin lips curled into a grotesque, unfitting snarl. Cassandra didn't really know what she expected from an assassin, but all she saw was the face of a woman who, though by all accounts foreign to their land, was still ultimately just as human as she was.
"You…you little bitch!" the Psychopomp yelled. "I'll tear your goddamn head off—"
"Take this!"
The Psychopomp whipped around at the sound of another battle cry, but her reflexes failed her. Rapunzel burst across the muddy road like a bolt of lightning, frying pan held by her side, and with tremendous, powerful fury, she leaned in and swung the cooking instrument at the Psychopomp's head as hard as she possibly could. The metal connected with the assassin's skull with a mighty twang, and the Grecian woman spun from the force of the blow as she fell, twisting herself into knots as she was knocked unconscious into the mud. Rapunzel stood over her body, panting heavily, her knuckles red from holding onto the frying pan so tightly. She looked down at the woman with a level of disdain reserved for very few of her enemies, but once she realized that the battle was over, the hatred immediately turned to worry and relief. She rushed to Cassandra's aide, helping her friend up to her feet.
"Oh, my goodness, Cass. Are you okay?" she asked, frightened.
"I'm good," Cassandra groaned with a smirk. "Do me a favor. Grab a rope from Fidella's bag before you check on the others. We need to make sure this lady doesn't have any more tricks up her sleeve."
Rapunzel nodded, racing back to her horse. The well-being of Adira and Max was first on her mind, far ahead of the mystery of her assassin's identity or origin. She had to protect them first and foremost. Cassandra watched her run away, carrying herself on legs that just a few hours ago could barely support their own weight, and she allowed herself to breathe deeply. The threat was averted, for now. What they lost, she hadn't yet determined. But for the moment, they were safe.
She looked up to the sky and outstretched her arm. After a few seconds, Owl returned to her side, depositing the golden skull mask in her hand before settling on its perch on her arm. She smiled tenderly at him.
"Good boy, Owl," she said genuinely. "Glad to know that you still have my back."