Chapter 2

The city of Sullovar managed to surprise Yorda every day she spent there.

Presently, she followed the Mayoress through the halls of her mansion, hands clutched in front of her as she trailed sheepishly behind. "Where are we going?" she asked, hoping she might understand her.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" The mayoress didn't turn to look at her, yet her voice carried tones of genuine sympathy. Even from this angle, she looked resplendent; glitter glimmered in her braided hair, the fabric of her waistcoat had been threaded with sequins and jewellery, and elaborate floral patterns splayed through ripples and creases of her dress.

"N… No," Yorda stuttered a response. The common tongue was still beyond her. She could manage one word at a time, and only if she could rely on context to do the rest of the work. This one seemed to do the trick. The mayoress carried on walking, descending a stairway spiralling into darkness.

"You can tell Ico about this place tomorrow morning," she whispered cheekily. Yorda wished he'd been awake to join them. He'd done most of the work since their arrival, negotiating how the two could be of service to the country. She wasn't too certain on what the exact details were. She wasn't even sure how they landed accomodation with the leader of such a sprawling, populous city. What did she see in them? "Mind your step, things are about to get jagged."

They both left the stairway, and Yorda felt the smooth, polished floor give way to hard, uneven stone. They had offered her many pairs of shoes the other day. None of them felt right. The mayoress was graceful enough to allow her to walk barefoot in the mansion grounds, (which the staff hadn't wrapped their heads around yet) although she hadn't found the nerve to join her ally outside yet.

As they walked, Yorda noticed crystals poking and jutting out of the stone walls, illuminating the two in bright blue rays. The sight enchanted her a little. Her mother's magic had nothing on such natural wonders. "Come, we're nearly there," added the mayoress, climbing a short slope past similar crystals. Yorda followed dutifully, noticing a faint glow on the horizon. Curiosity piqued, she climbed quicker, leaning forward and pushing herself on her hands to reach the top quicker.

There, she stood before an endless sea of glowing crystals.

The sight took her breath away. All she could manage was an automatic "Whoa." At least some of her words carried over into common tongue. "I could never imagine places like this exist…"

"This is my secret place," said the mayoress. "I like to share my secrets with people here." She nudged Yorda's shoulder, who turned to her as she lifted the hem of her dress. She was also barefoot.

The young girl gasped in surprise. "I thought I was the only one who did…"

The mayoress gave her a warm smile. "There's a lot about yourself you barely even know," she replied, the language coming naturally to her.

Yorda smiled fondly to herself, spirited along by her memories. "I have missed this," she said, traipsing elegantly over the harsh stones in the path. "You know, maybe Castle escape not so bad."

Ico looked at her in bafflement. "What are you talking about?" he asked with a chuckle. "You got the short end of the stick the whole time. Don't tell me you're getting nostalgic over spending a whole night as a statue."

She giggled, kicking through a puddle in her way. "No, you right," she said. "But now, when I dream, I remember only how big it is." She stopped and faced him, her hands expressing with her words. "I think to myself, 'If only Castle here now, we could play there all day, and never get bored.'"

Ico nodded to himself. He could understand why Yorda was so childlike and energetic at such a late stage. She didn't have the words to express what life was like before he came along, but it couldn't have been any better than being coupled up in an iron cage, suspended over a 60-foot drop. She'd never had the chance to live like a child, and she'd spent the last decade making up for lost time. "At least until the shadow creatures come back."

"Yes, but I fight them this time!" She pretended to hold a sword in her hands, slashing the air while making the appropriate sounds with her mouth. "Or, you train me," she added quietly. "I don't know."

Ico looked into her eyes. The mischievous glint he saw made him chuckle, pausing while he caught his breath. "Oh, we're lucky we don't have to deal with those spectres now," he said to himself. He ran ahead, leading her into a dense woodland. "Could I have the map?"

"You promise not to break it?" Yorda asked, looking at the stream ahead of them. "I may run about more now, but you always risky one. I easily see you get it wet, or ripped, or worse."

"Hey, I'll be careful," he replied, taking her by the hand. Where before, he only did this to drag her along during moments of stress or panic, now he only held her hand when he wanted to take it slow, and walk side by side. By now, she was bold enough to run as fast as him. Still, that instinct did emerge from time to time, especially if they were lost.

He looked at her as they walked, and forgot all about the stream until his foot planted in it. The cold rush of water against his toes shook him, and he jumped back with a yelp. Yorda laughed to herself. "Okay, stay still," she said. "I will put map in bag." She whipped it out of her pocket, checking it as a precaution before bequeathing it to her husband. "Ah, we get there tomorrow morning," she added.

"What do you think we'll find there?" Ico asked, standing still while she opened the bag. "Because as far as leads go, I can't see it being that helpful. But…" He shrugged. "Who knows? We might bump into another procession for an unlucky horned child. That'll be a start."

"If no, we send letter to Sullovar," Yorda proposed, rolling up the map and tucking it neatly in the bag. "Do you think she's still there?"

"Who, the mayoress?" Ico heard the bag buckle shut. "Okay, ready to go?"

"Yes, her." She walked ahead, walking recklessly into the stream. The rush of cold water made her scream, but she forced herself to stand in it, braving a grin. "I-it's fine," she stammered. "If you want, I make s-stepping stones for y-y-you."

Ico stepped into the stream with her, immediately regretting his choice. "A w-woman as scholarly as her?" His teeth chattered as he spoke, but he refused to be defeated. "Oh, d-d-definitely." He waded ahead, stretching out his arms to keep balance. "G-gods, she was so much like you!"

"M-maybe I'm next mayoress!" Yorda declared, wading a few inches behind, trying and failing to overtake him. "Hey, wait!" She stretched out her arm, which he immediately took.

""I-I can s-s-see that happening!" Ico felt her wrist in his fingers, holding gently as they inched their way to the brook. "Nearly there now…"

The fire continued to crackle, belching a trail of smoke that climbed up to the night sky. Ico watched it transfixed, sitting on a log just close enough to feel its warmth. Yorda had already gone to sleep. He turned to look at her, lying in the grass with a woolen blanket over her. She looked so peaceful.

But still, he could not shake the feeling out of his head. With the Matador around, he didn't feel welcome going anywhere near Arskel. If he 'defeated' him and proved the innocence of horned boys, would they let him back in? Would he still need to wear the turban? "I suppose not everyone knows about these," he reminded himself, rapping his knuckles on the stubs.

Something rustled in the bushes. Ico looked towards it, trying to locate in exactly. Slowly, he picked up a leftover stick and hovered it above the fire. The end lit up, and he carried it with him as he approached the bushes. He swapped hands just as he approached Yorda, worried he might drop cinders on her face, light up her blanket or something silly like that. Once out of range, he put it back in his good hand, held it above the bushes.

There was nobody there. Not a rabbit, nor fox.

Dissatisfied, he returned to the fire, stepping quietly through the grass. There it was again! That rustle from behind him! He knew it. He threw the stick into the fire and turned back to the bushes. He inched closer, closer, watching his shadow stretch up the nearest tree. Did the figure see that? Had he just been rumbled?

Ico froze, fearful that any noise might give him away. His eyes turned to the bush, waiting for another telltale rustle. There it was! On impulse, Ico leapt towards it with spread arms, ready to pin whoever was hid behind it. His head made contact with the thing first, knocking it to the floor while his body slammed on top of it. The blow dazed both of them, and it took him a few seconds to figure out what it was.

It was a man, dressed in leather, with long, brown hair veiling his ears. He, too, was dazed.

"What are you doing here?" Ico hissed.

"I-what are you talking about?" protested the man, wrestling for freedom. "I was just out hunting!"

"Oh, at this time of night?" Ico shoved his arms into the ground, holding him down with all his energy. "You'd better not be with the Matador, or I swear, I'll-"

"Who in the gods' name is the Matador?"

Ico paused, still keeping the man pinned down, but less aggressively than before. "You genuinely don't know?"

"Does he have something to do with those horn stumps?" said the man with a sneer.

He sighed, rolled off and let the man go. "What were you hunting for?"

"Well, foraging, more than anything," he replied, rubbing his arms with a scowl. "I don't suppose we could borrow your campfire to compensate for you attacking me?"

"Look, I'm sorry," said Ico. "We're kinda on the run, and I wasn't sure if you knew about me."

Something rustled behind him. Ico turned, just in time for Yorda to emerge from the bushes. "Is there problem?" she asked.

"No, I just got a bit jumpy," said Ico, flashing the man a smile. "What's your name, sorry?"

"Eles," said the man. "I'm with a trade caravan, we're just on the edge of the forest." He picked up some twigs by his feet. "Okay, I'll admit I was curious about you two, so… I owe you an apology, I guess."

Ico shrugged. "I'm Ico, and this here's Yorda."

She gave Eles a smile. "He not hurt everyone, don't worry."

Eles looked at her in confusion, eyeing her from head to toe. "Where are you from?" he asked. "We've been all over the land, and I've never heard an accent like that."

"Hmm, far away land," Yorda replied. "It fell in the sea, and now I live with him." She wrapped her arm around Ico, nuzzled against his shoulder.

"I came from a village called Doen," added Ico. "Ever heard of it?"

"Uh, yeah," Eles replied. "Real backwaters-y place, hasn't seen a child born there in over ten years. It's almost a ghost town by now."

Ico's arms fell limp by his side. "W-what?" he stammered weakly.

Eles shrugged. "They used to string up children born with horns for some kinda sacrifice. One day, they had this real bad storm, and all the mothers there suddenly lost the use of their wombs." He noticed how pale Ico's face had suddenly become. "Are you okay, buddy? What, you used to…"

Realisation glimmered in his eyes.

"Okay, I was exaggerating a bit," he added. "There are a few children there, but they're about, like, no older than ten. I guess most of them moved to other villages, or cities or whatever." He shrugged. "Villages die, sometimes."

"O-okay, yeah…" Ico took a sigh,turned away to process what he'd heard. Did the Queen do that? he wondered. Doesn't make sense for my village to be cursed like that. Unless it was some kind of punishment.

"Where you go?" asked Yorda.

"We were gonna go to Arskel," said Eles. "Why, you heading there too?"

She shook her head. "We go away from Arskel. Bad trouble there, Ico not safe."

"I got it. You need somewhere to lay low until it blows over."

Yorda looked at Ico, who had returned to their camp and huddled by the fire. It won't be that simple, she thought to herself. He won't be able to relax until we solve this mystery once and for all. She turned to Eles. "We looking for place where horned men live."

"Horned men?"

Yorda nodded.

"Eh, can't say I know anything about that," said Eles. "Maybe the scholars at Sullovar know something about that?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes, Sullovar! I can't tell you how much I've-" She stopped, cleared her throat, and tried again. "You no recognise language?"

"Nope."

She blushed. "I think it too far to travel there," she said.

"That's not an issue," said Eles. "We'll be travelling there pretty soon, if you wanna join us."

"I speak to Ico about it," she said. "You be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we should be."

"Okay," said Yorda. "We see you in morning." She turned and waved Eles goodbye. He watched her disappear into the bushes. I thought my group were oddballs, he thought.

Day broke with the rising crescendo of the morning chorus. Ico awoke to the smell of a smouldering campfire, stirring memories from last night. "Ugh, Yorda?" he mumbled, getting to his feet.

Yorda was knelt by the bag, fastening the straps. She flashed him a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Um, no," he replied, still rubbing his eyes. "I had this bad dream about going back to my village, and finding it completely empty. Well, I think the shadow monsters were there, and I vaguely remember seeing the Queen's face, but other than that…" He shook his head. "Another reason not to go there."

"I think it do you good to return," said Yorda, tipping the bonnet over her eyes. "Maybe mother and father still there."

"We'll see." He swiped the turban cloth from the bag and wrapped it around his head. "Is Eles there?"

"I not see him," said Yorda. "But then again, you sleep, and I rather go with you to see him."

"Can't argue there," said Ico, reaching out to the bag. Yorda shrugged and slung it over her shoulders, seemingly in defiance. (Defiance to what, he wasn't sure.) "He came from over there, didn't he?" He pointed towards a hedgerow bridging two trees. Yorda gave a small, uncertain nod. Only one way to be sure, he decided, making for it.

They cut through the bushes, and found a large clearing, empty save for an old wagon wheel lying by a used fire. The smoke trail still snaked into the sky. If this was Eles' caravan, they had only just left. "Damn, I must've overslept," he muttered.

Yorda surveyed the scene before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slip of paper wedged in a nearby tree, ran to pick it up. "Hey, I think this for us," she said, handing it to him.

Ico looked at it with surprise. He wasn't expecting the man's caravan to carry any kind of paper. Perhaps they had a scholar among them? Without hesitation, he opened up the slip and gave it a read.

"Ico,

Gone to Arskel for business

Will leave for Sullovar from Tidemoon Harbour

Either pay 500 coins, or offer goods for trade

Eles"

She groaned. "We have to go back to Arskel to get either goods or money."

"Don't worry about it," said Ico, pocketing the slip. "For now, I say we keep moving." He turned to her. "How far 'til we reach the gate?"

She still carried the watermelon skin in her hands, picking pieces out to nibble from time to time. Ico gave his one last look, then threw it carelessly in the grass. Yorda stopped to stare at it in curiosity. These fruits were like none in the castle. Heck, the concept of food that grew was still alien to her. What were these doing behind a rock, of all things?

"Hey," said Ico. Yorda gasped and ran to keep up with him. "Gotta keep moving," he added sternly.

Yorda nodded to herself, taking note of the world around her. They had long left the beach behind, and had been walking through this forest for a good few hours. The sun was at its apex, warming the air around them without the sea breeze to keep them cool. The grass crunched under Yorda's bare feet. It felt softer than the grass from the castle; more alive.

"Where are we going?" she attempted to say. She knew by now that he didn't hear that. Strangely, ever since they had washed ashore, she realised she could understand what Ico said. Back in the castle, all she heard was nonsense coming from his mouth. Back then, he somehow found a way to guide her; to tell her where to go and what to do, without the luxury of her language.

"Don't worry," said Ico with a smile. "We should find a village or something soon."

Yorda gasped, dropping the watermelon skin. "Did you just understand me?"

"Uh-huh," said Ico thoughtlessly. "Sure."

Back in the castle, she knew better than to try speaking to him. What was the point if neither of them understood the other? When she did speak, it was more for herself than him. But now, now she understood him. She ran ahead of him, turned and faced him. Listen to me," she insisted, "my words, my thoughts. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Ico stopped to stare at her. "Um… Sorry, still can't figure it out," he mumbled. "Maybe somebody in the village knows the language you're talking. Who knows, maybe I can learn it."

The smile on his face was sincere. It did nothing to ease the pain in her heart. She slowed behind him, dragging her toes through the mud. "I just want to talk to you…" she whispered, feeling a tear crawl down her cheek. When neither of them understood the other, at least they had basic communication to keep them going. Things were so much simpler then. Now they were free, it felt like a door had opened for Yorda. A door into life beyond the castle.

It felt like her mother still held her by the neck, stopping her from going through it.

"Hey, do you hear that?" Ico said, stopping. He turned his head, and Yorda found herself doing the same, to distract herself. She heard distant shouting, sounds of men singing and children laughing. She turned to him, and saw hope in his eyes. "I knew it!" Immediately he was off, racing towards the sound.

Yorda ran after him, struggling to keep up with him. She could hardly imagine how he felt with both of his horns gone, but he still had the same energy she expected from him. She tried to run after him, flailing her arms, panting at every step, but he grew further and further out of reach. Come on, Yorda, she told herself. You are not the fragile princess locked up in a tower, anymore. You are free. Free from mother's magic. Push yourself!

She leaned into her run, pushing her legs an inch further. Her flailing arms grew controlled and swung by her side. She found a rhythm to her breathing, ran in step with it. Suddenly she realised he was growing closer again. She was keeping pace with him! Her legs and lungs ached, but they had never experienced adrenaline like this before. This was a good pain. Pain of growth. For the first time, Yorda was beginning to understand what she could truly do.

Then Ico stopped, and Yorda smacked clean into him, knocking him to the floor with a yelp. "Yumin," she squeaked, rolling off him.

"Hey, watch it," he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. Now she was back on her feet, she could see what had grabbed his attention.

They had reached a path cutting through the forest, curving down the hill towards a sprawling port town, with dozens of ships he'd never seen before moored at the docks. The sounds of people echoed from the streets and into his ears. "I knew it," he said again. Before Yorda could reply, he threw himself around her, burying his head in her shoulder. Startled, she smiled, rested her head atop his.

He jumped back. "Let's go," he said, running down the hill. Yorda stood there in shock. "Ico…" she whispered, before running after him, following the same rhythm.

"Hey, I just thought," said Ico, taking a bite from his apple. "When was the last time that gate was actually used?"

"When we use it?" Yorda suggested, waiting for him to catch up.

Ico made a short sprint to catch her, slowing to take another bite. He had been complaining about being hungry the past hour, yet didn't want to use any of their rations. As luck had it, they were passing an orchard, and had money on hand for an apple. "Nah, before that," he continued. "I mean, actually got to it. Crossed the bridge and actually opened it."

"I not remember," said Yorda. Her memories before being in that cage had long since faded. Sometimes she even wondered if she'd been born in that cage, and never knew life within the Castle. Her mother insisted she was once a kind and benevolent queen, but never gave her the full story. What kind of queen would do that to her daughter?

"You know, I kind of glad I never open gate myself."

Ico took his last bite and tossed the apple into the grass. The path ahead began to slope. The sound of seagulls and wind were picking up. "Why's that?"

"You know how much it take to open big gate?" said Yorda. She huffed, feeling a cold shiver run down her arms. "I still remember the pain now."

"Yeah," said Ico softly. "You went all pale. Your hair lost all its colour."

"It take all my magic," she continued, focusing her gaze on the cresting path ahead. "I wonder if I open gate at other end, how much that take? Would it kill me?" She stopped suddenly. "And now, I walk towards it, not knowing if I have magic left." Saying it out loud put her whole dream into a context she'd never thought of until now. Was this even a good idea?

Ico put his hand on her shoulder, gave her a smile. "If it does anything to you, I'll pull you out," he said. "I did a good job saving you from the Castle last time, didn't I?"

Yorda chuckled and nodded. "We come too far now," she said. "I not know what happen when we turn back."

"Focus on busting the Matador," replied Ico. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Yorda chortled, stopping to double over and guffaw loudly, her bonnet falling to the floor. "Cross bridge, ha!"

Ico gasped. "That wasn't- Y-you know what I mean," he stammered, feeling his cheeks burn.

The laughter faded as Yorda picked up the bonnet. The two fell silent, save for the rising wind ahead. Curious, Yorda ran to the path's peak to get a good vantage point.

There it was.

She stood before a cliff overlooking vast, endless ocean. To her side, a small path dipped out of sight; no doubt the path the ferrymen took on Ico's arrival to the Castle. But ahead, there was the gate. Several giant, cubic statues, their backs turned to her. She counted them, noting the moss and decay that decorated them. Corners chipped off; colour faded. She counted sixteen in all. All lined up, ready to open apart on the right command.

She looked uncertainly at Ico. "This is it," she whispered. "What if it hurt me?"

"Did the smaller gates hurt you?" said Ico, trying to remember how she looked when she opened them. He didn't remember her being at all expressive back then. At least, not compared to now.

"No," she said, taking a deep breath. "I stronger now. I… I am not young Princess Yorda, trapped in castle, waiting for you save me." She cast her bonnet aside, taking steps towards the gate. "For last ten years, I walk my path. I make my decisions. Learn your language. Eat, drink, work, farm." Her voice picked up as she spoke, her stories growing in length. "I meet Mayoress of Sullovar, mine in Krollik. I walk barefoot in stone and snow, even on Royal carpet."

She now stood inches away from the gate, looked up to the sheer mass of it.

"My name is Yorda Chichiro, and I am a free woman!" she screamed in her language, slamming her palm against the rotting stone gate.

Nothing happened.

She stood there for a while, her palm glued to the stone, waiting for something to happen.

It stayed put.

As Ico watched, Yorda took a step back, her hand falling slack by her side. She began to sniffle, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Yorda…" he said gently.

She wrapped herself around him, sobbing and laughing in equal measure. "I am free!" she said. "I am free from mother."

"Free?" Ico said, embracing her softly.

She sniffed, trying to find the words. "There, there's no magic. No magic in me," she forced herself to say. "Gate is dead. Castle is dead. Mother… Mother is dead." She stepped back, her face flushed with emotion. "But me, Ico? I'm alive. I am alive. I with you, and…" She turned back to the gate. "I do anything, and not stop me." She cupped her hands to her mouth. "Do you hear me, Mother?!" she yelled. "This world is as safe as I make it to be!"

She wanted to continue to scream and shout. Before she could, one of the statues toppled over, falling down the cliff, cascading into the sea below. It's companions began to crumble, pieces bouncing off the cliff face before splashing loudly. Yorda stepped back to Ico's side, waiting until the last statue had fallen. Then, exchanging looks, they approached the cliff face.

Nothing remained of the gate. Even down below, the small makeshift dock the ferrymen used had been lost to the ages.

"It's gone," said Ico to himself. "It's finally, actually gone."

"Yep," said Yorda, turning to him. "Now, we take care of horned boys. They not gone."

"I hope," muttered Ico to himself, letting Yorda take his hand, and walk him away from the cliff face. There was something comfortingly warm in her palm, almost like when he first held it. This time, it wasn't some arcane magic. It was her. Everything she felt for him, encapsulated in a single connection between them.

And this time, she was leading him.

The bull-man wrapped his fingers around the bars and bellowed, and was met with a pelting of fruit, cauliflowers and somebody's hat. A crowd had gathered around the large cage, with only the leather-clad Matador standing aside to monitor things. "Please be careful," he said, his voice masked by the rabble. "These bars are thin iron, and could easily break if he's provoked enough."

Eles poked his head through the crowd to peek at the cage. The thing was cylindrical, lined with sharp spikes at either end. A small, broken chain trailed from the top. It may have been designed to fit small adults, but this bull-man was bigger than any human he'd ever seen. He certainly looked too big to lie comfortably in it, and couldn't even stand to full height. "Is this a grown horned child?" he asked.

"Hey, move!" cried one woman, struggling to keep in front of the crowd. The Matador, standing on his podium, waved his arms and blew kisses. Clearly he hadn't heard.

"Are you the Matador?!" Eles shouted.

He opened one eye to look at Eles. With what looked like an eye roll, he held out his hands, bringing the rabble to a low murmur. "Yes, what is it?" he said.

"I keep seeing all these bullheads everywhere in town," said Eles, finding some room for himself in the crowd. "Does this have anything to do with the horned children?"

"It has everything to do with the horned children!" the Matador declared. The crowd burst into a cheer, before he ushered them calm with a single motion. "You don't want our youth to grow into these monstrosities, do you?"

"How do you intend to do that?" asked Eles. "It can't be more barbaric than trapping them in some godsforsaken fortress in the middle of the ocean, can it?" Back in Doen, he hadn't given it much thought. But meeting Ico, seeing the nubs on his head, gave him pause for thought. Did the Matador know about him?

"Well, what are you proposing?" hissed the Matador. "You can't cure them just by cutting off their horns. Those little ivory appendages brand them from birth. They are a gift from thoughtless gods, who don't know what they're doing!"

The crowd cheered again. Eles looked at them with disgust and a fluttering of fear. I was told that Arskel was a sensible capital of commerce, he thought. Now it's turning into some bovine death cult. By this point, it was clear what the Matador was aiming for. He hated to ask, but needed to know what dangers Ico faced. "What will you do to them?"

The crowd fell silent. A twitch befell the Matador's eye. For a moment, it looked like he hadn't thought that part through. So that means he hasn't actually captured any children yet. A reassuring smile swiftly replaced the twitch. "Not to worry," he said to the crowd. "The child won't feel a thing. They'll be gone within a-"

He clapped his hands to close his declaration. The crowd, once again, burst into applause. The pelting resumed, the bull-man shrunk into a corner, covering his eyes and sobbing. The Matador turned to the crowd, but couldn't find the man who'd spoken to him. Even the top of his head had vanished into the rabble.

Wow, that took a while.

I meant to upload this sooner, but a friend invited me to write a story based on her characters. It was meant to be a simple underwater adventure, but it turned out four times longer than I'd imagined. I'll link it, in case you wanna give that a read.
/~ -bridge

Like the above story, I've been improvising the direction of this fic. Writing this chapter, I thought I'd discovered the right direction going forward: Ico and Yorda's relationship as adults. However, I felt the need to cap off this chapter by raising the stakes, and I'm glad I did. How do you think I should carry on with the story from here? I have literally no clue.

Hopefully this one will actually be readable when I upload it.

EDIT

Jesus Christ, I just figured out this chapter wasn't actually online. How do you people keep your fics updated so consistantly? This website is a mess.