Anger Begets Anger
Lambdadelta made a mental note to thank Ange later. Somehow, Ange had destroyed Beatrice's Golden Land, and when she was about to fall into the abyss, Lambdadelta snatched her ward like a shark chomping down on a fish. For Ange's efforts, she decided a platter of strawberry cupcakes covered in rainbow sprinkles was a fitting reward, adding to the note that the frosting needed to be in the shade of Ange's hair.
She tightened her grip around Beatrice's ankle. The bone cracked, and Beatrice stiffened, stifling her yelp. Lambdadelta waved her hand in the darkness, parting it like the sea. As light bled around them, Beatrice squeezing her eyes shut, Lambdadelta gazed ahead.
A room encased them. It was one of Lambdadelta's private boudoirs. The walls were garishly bright bubblegum pink with zigzagging white stripes. Tiny pumpkins sat on fluffed pillows. Scarlet blankets, made of the warmest silk and cotton, fit the king-sized bed without a wrinkle in sight. The air was warm with a sugary scent that seemed to make Beatrice nauseous, evidenced by the green tint in her cheeks.
Lambdadelta released her and floated away from her bed. While she would have enjoyed a cat nap after hours of searching for Beatrice, she needed to focus. Beatrice had made a mockery out of her and the name of certainty. Her insolence could not go unpunished.
Fanning out her dress, Lambdadelta sat in a simple wooden chair at a simple wooden table. Compared to the intricate dressers and paintings spanning the walls, the furniture seemed out of place. But at the plain table was where Lambdadelta contemplated. She'd sit and sort through her fan mail, skim through novels, and examine maps where Bernkastel had been sighted during their time separated across games and fragments.
She drummed her fingers on the table. Her tapping filled the room, bouncing off the walls. She narrowed her gaze on Beatrice, her lips pursing together as Beatrice gripped her dress. She bunched it up in her hands, appearing like a student about to be scolded for a crime they knew they had committed.
"Beato," Lambdadelta began, the Golden Witch shuddering at her sharp tone, "what the hell was that?"
Beatrice cleared her throat. She rubbed her fist over her lips, unable to meet Lambdadelta's eyes. "If I may be so humble, Your Highness-"
Her fist smashed into the table. Beatrice jolted, taking a step backward. Lambdadelta tightened her jaw, her nostrils flaring, and she jabbed her finger at Beatrice. "Shut up with that hoity-toity crap. If you talk to me like that again, then I will cast you into the worst world imaginable," she growled, snorting as Beatrice quaked so terribly that she might have fainted. "I have had it up to here-" She jerked her hand high above her head. "-with you. Don't think you can earn my favor by fawning over me and exaggerating your compliments. I'm already royally pissed at you."
Beatrice nodded, tucking her chin to her chest. Lambdadelta sucked in a calming breath. The stunt Beatrice had pulled was like yanking the rug out underneath her feet. Right at the most compelling part of the game, Beatrice had seemingly lost faith in Battler. In return, she had wielded her red blade and gouged through his soul, thrusting him into the Sea of Fragments where he was unable to recall his name or heritage. Bernkastel had endeavored to find the fool, but with a truth that severely twisted into his heart, Lambdadelta knew it would take ages to find a body amidst the murky swamp of stupefaction.
The reasoning for why it happened aggravated her. The fourth game was going in Beatrice's favor. Battler was rattled regarding George and Jessica's duels, but when he refused to remember his alleged sin in both dimensions, Beatrice decided to halt her turn. Just when it was getting interesting, she had closed the game board and escaped to her fantastical world where no one could enter unless she willed it. Even Lambdadelta, her master, was denied at the front gates. For that, she stewed, her face red hot with embarrassment, as she leveled a glare at Beatrice for nearly destroying what should have been a pastime for her and Bernkastel to enjoy for years.
"What you did is unforgivable. Ask any other witch from the Senate, and they'd agree with me. I should take your titles away from you. I should destroy the origin of your magic. I should tear off your disguise right now and crush the spirits of everyone living in your purgatory." Lambdadelta's words rushed out of her mouth, her arms gesturing and fingers twitching. Her smaller frame trembled under the gravity of her frustration. "You humiliated me in front of Bern! She might not have any friends, but she can gossip with the best of them among the Senate! You aren't even thinking about my reputation! My fan club! My status! My beloved Bern, too!" She whipped her finger at Beatrice, hissing, "You didn't receive my permission to stop the game. Only I get to stop the game when you've bored me. Do you understand, Beato?"
Beatrice swallowed the lump in her throat. Lambdadelta gripped the edge of the table, her brow furrowing. Before her was a spineless wretch. She was like the brand of witches who claimed they were bold only to cower in front of true power. Lambdadelta's stomach churned, and she demanded an answer, her shrill voice piercing through Beatrice's ears.
"What he did-!" Beatrice winced and bit her lower lip as Lambdadelta uttered a shrill cry.
"I'm not asking about him! I'm asking about you and your methods!" she bellowed, shooting to her feet. "That's not the goal of this game! The goal was to make him surrender and acknowledge you! You were perfect in the second game! So, why? Why now?" She marched forward, her gloved hands snatching Beatrice's choker and dragging her down. "I made you a witch to appease my boredom! I don't have time to waste with your wishy-washy garbage! You're an eyesore! A fraud! A coward!" She shook Beatrice with each insult, the taller witch crumbling to her knees. Lambdadelta rocked her back and forth, her golden curls falling down her back. "When you said you'd win, I granted you certainty! I staked my name on it! I won't be abashed by the likes of you! I won't let you run away with your tail between your legs like a stray mutt!"
She thrust Beatrice to the ground. Her head cracked against a dresser. Blood trickled down her nose, and Beatrice keened, clutching the back of her skull. Rolling her eyes, Lambdadelta snapped her fingers. Her wounds immediately healed, and she even allowed Beatrice a slight hint of mercy by fixing her hair.
Catching her breath, Lambdadelta adjusted her lopsided cap. She pushed her large bow out of her eyes, observing how Beatrice shuddered like a small animal. She was almost precious in how she palpitated. The high and mighty Golden Witch was reduced to her plaything, a toy meant to be broken. She could have hurled jeer after jeer, cementing the truth in Beatrice's mind of their arrangement, and her tears would have tasted like sea salt caramels when Lambdadelta licked them.
But she returned to her seat. She wanted answers, not fealty. Composing herself with a quiet sigh, she commanded for Beatrice to stand. As she made herself comfortable, resting against the wooden backing, she watched Beatrice stumble to her feet. Her knees knocked behind the thick fabric of her dress, her pupils dilating as they made eye contact, and Lambdadelta smiled.
"Now, give me your reasoning," she ordered, "for why you had to go and ruin the game."
With quivering lips, she whispered, "He's an odious man-"
Lambdadelta's lip curled. "I told you-!"
"-who sinned against me! He's the reason for this tragedy!" Beatrice wailed, thrusting her fists out. She bashed her heels into the ground and flung her fists at random. She punched the novels lining the shelves. With her bony fingers, she ripped off chunks of oak from her dressers, Lambdadelta watching them break and collapse in piles. Her nails sunk into Lambdadelta's finest garments and shredded them much like a cat, her face so hot that Lambdadelta felt the temperature increase in her bedroom.
Stupefied, she permitted her pawn to rage. Beatrice snatched the table, Lambdadelta leaning back, and thrust it at the bed. The candies scattered, chocolate smearing on the ground. Not a single tear escaped Beatrice as she continued her rampage. She howled with the fury of a scorned lover, the type that Lambdadelta had heard countless times over the centuries, and she watched the show, not bothering to summon her favorite popcorn.
"How dare he forget? How dare he? Ushiromiya Battler, you bastard! Liar! Why? Why didn't you remember? Don't pin the blame on me! Compared to you, I'm as innocent as purity itself! And I was pure until you betrayed me!" Beatrice snarled, sinking her claws into a pillow. She choked the feathers out of it, the fabric popping like a balloon. Lambdadelta caught one between her fingers.
Thrusting the pillow to the ground, Beatrice snatched the pumpkins and squeezed. The burst. Stringy guts and seeds coated her hands. She gnashed down on her teeth, grinding them until Lambdadelta thought they would crack.
And they did. Beatrice clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened, and she ducked her head. When she removed her hand, fragments of bone dripping with saliva and crushed enamel fell into her palm. She didn't have the strength to gasp.
Instead, it brought her back to reality. Light returned to Beatrice's eyes. Her expression writhed in a mixture of emotions that would have amused Lambdadelta at any other time. She gagged, coughing out another shard of an incisor, and she slowly brought her gaze back to Lambdadelta, unable to breathe.
Her dimples sharpened as she grinned. Lambdadelta pressed her finger to her cheek and examined the carnage. Her room was thoroughly destroyed. Papers, candies, feathers, and wood had been scattered everywhere. Any semblance of organization vanished. She bent over and picked up a stray pumpkin that escaped Beatrice's rampage and weighed it in her palm.
"Did that feel nice? Isn't destruction a wonderful way to destress?" she crooned, smirking.
Beatrice's eyes welled with tears. She slowly shook her head, her fear like a savory aroma wafting from the main course of a meal. Rising from her seat, Lambdadelta tossed the pumpkin aside and approached Beatrice. Slowly, she slid her hand over Beatrice's palm and snatched the chipped teeth from her. With her other hand, she snapped her fingers at Beatrice's lips.
As Beatrice gasped, Lambdadelta nodded to herself. "There. Much better. Sharper, too."
Beatrice dropped her arms, slouching. She ran her tongue across her reformed, flawless teeth, her canines appearing jagged. "Why did you help me?" she murmured, a hint of suspicion in her tone as if she held the right to scorn Lambdadelta.
She curled her fingers into a fist. Opening her hand, she revealed the white powder that was once Beatrice's teeth. She blew it to the side, the particles fluttering like dust before falling to the ground.
"Why? A witch always helps her ward in their time of need. I'll always support you, Beato," she vowed, and she slinked her arm up. Cupping Beatrice's cheek, she smoothed a stray curl of hair behind her ear. "You're like a dog who keeps winning all sorts of pageants. Even if you have bouts of disobedience, so long as I keep you on a short leash, I can control you with ease."
Beatrice didn't make a sound. She let her mouth hang open, transfixed. Lambdadelta sneered and clapped in front of Beatrice's nose, casting her spell. The room shook as if hit by an earthquake, and Beatrice wobbled, falling backward. Lambdadelta didn't offer her hand a second time.
Her room splintered. Darkness crept through the crevices. It swallowed everything, devouring the furniture and pumpkins. Lambdadelta floated, and Beatrice fell. Her scream was consumed by the abyss, and she clawed through the nothingness, weighted as if she had an anchor tied to her ankle.
And she did. Beatrice didn't realize it yet, but Lambdadelta knew. She had chained Beatrice the moment she lost her sight. Lambdadelta wouldn't lose her favorite toy for a second time. She wouldn't feel another bout of uncomfortable disgrace that would have earned her the mockery stemming from her fellow Senate witches.
Sighing, Lambdadelta melted into the darkness. She spread her arms back, her form becoming intangible. Golden butterflies flew off her and turned in the direction of the game where Beatrice plummeted.
"We're alike, Beato, which is why I'll forgive your transgression. I've judged the sins of people who besmirched my good name. I've judged the sins of people who harmed me in other lives," she announced, chuckling, knowing Beatrice wouldn't hear her, "but you have to be strong. You have to conquer or be conquered. Either use your indomitable soul or let the goats eat you." She closed her eyes. "No matter which choice you make, as if you have a choice at all, Bern and I will enjoy you like a fine wine!"
Lambdadelta's cackling echoed in the black sea. When she reappeared by the shocked witch trapped in her chair, she looked forward to the exciting continuation of Beatrice's endless game.