Spellbound
(Revised Edition, December 2008)
by Cheezey

Epilogue

The darkness of night had filled the corner of Third Earth that held Castle Plundarr even more fully than it had back in the village where the Mutant who was in the wastelands behind it, Jackalman, had been imprisoned just hours earlier. He had remained relatively silent on the journey back from the unicorn forest, aside from the time he had taken to answer the other Mutants' questions on how he had come to be imprisoned. Slythe had been surprised to hear that Chilla had nothing directly to do with his capture, but neither he nor any of the other Mutants intended on offering any sort of apology to their uneasy allies, the Lunatacs, for their accusations of it. Slythe had wisecracked that perhaps Luna would leave them alone if they thought the Mutants had no respect for them, and Vultureman hoped that he was right. They were tired of dealing with them so often anyhow.

But none of that was on Jackalman's mind as he stood alone in the field behind his fortress on that night.

In his hands he held Mirlana's remains and a shovel. He had not said a word to the other Mutants—likely they would have derided him for it—but he intended to give her a proper burial. Honor was considered a hindrance and a weakness to most Mutants in battle, but the jackal held a lasting respect for the fallen warrior maiden for her kindness toward him. He had at first thought of leaving her remains with the warrior maidens, but in the end had decided against it. If the women did not shoot at him on sight because of who he was—and he had to admit, he would have deserved it—they might have ignored or been suspicious of them had he just left them nearby.

In the end he decided he must do it himself. Perhaps a Plundarrian burial was uncustomary for her kind, but it was better than none. So in the loneliness of the moonlight, the canine dug a hole large enough to hold her remains and items, and he carefully placed them in. As he replaced the dirt over her grave and patted it down, he said a silent prayer and smiled.

Many miles away, Tygra stared out the window of his bedroom in Cat's Lair. It had only been a little more than a day's time since he had left that very room to be with Celeste, and so much had happened to him during it. He wondered how was it that she had fooled him so completely. Why had he been such an easy target for her? What character flaw was inherent within him that had allowed Celeste to manipulate him with such ease? The tiger did not understand how it could have happened, how it could have gone so far and so quickly without him being aware of it, and it frightened him.

He was shaken out of his reverie when he heard a light knock at his door. "Tygra! It's Cheetara. Are you in there?"

"Come in," he answered quietly.

Cheetara opened the door and entered, closing it softly behind her. She approached him softly, her face filled with concern. "You barely said two words at dinner, and ever since you've been back. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I just feel so guilty for putting you all in such danger over something so selfish," he said with a sad shake of his striped mane. "You all came and saved me, but Code of Thundera or not, I don't feel like I deserved to be rescued. It was my own fault for being caught in her lies, and it would've been just what I deserved after how I acted. Especially after I betrayed Lion-O. No amount of her will should have been able to push me to do that."

"She was a powerful demoness, Tygra, with dark magic. It would've been hard for any of us to resist her influence if she'd had the chance to weave her magic on us the way she had on you. Everyone makes mistakes, Tygra, and Lion-O bears you no ill will for what happened."

"He may not, but I do. Honestly, Cheetara, you have to admit that this one even tops out the Keystone incident for foolish decisions."

"You're too hard on yourself, Tygra. Do you think the rest of us have never weakened in a way that we're ashamed of? How about the time Vultureman used his telepathy beam on me, and I let my pride prevent me from telling Lion-O that I had a feeling Panthro was in trouble? Remember, Panthro was kidnapped by the Lunatacs as a direct result of it, just because I was afraid to look like I was crazy. That was pretty stupid and selfish of me, but you all forgave me for that. How is your moment of weakness any different?"

Tygra smiled in spite of himself, but shifted the subject nevertheless. "Speaking of the Lunatacs, I wonder what ever happened to Chilla? Damien enchanted her much the same way Celeste enchanted me. I wonder if she's feeling the same way I am right now."

"I think it's a wonder a cold-hearted woman like her could even have feelings," Cheetara said with a light laugh. "You certainly couldn't tell it from any of the things she's done in the past."

"She was certainly feeling something when she lit into Damien once she figured out what was going on," Tygra mused. "And I'd have to guess she must've been feeling something pretty strong to make her angry enough to kill Alluro."

"Well, I can identify with wanting to kill him with that arrogant attitude of his," Cheetara chuckled. "But really, I'd be surprised if she didn't bounce back meaner than ever." She shook her head. "More's the pity, if the experience would've taught her something about feeling the kind of pain she and the rest of the Lunatacs inflict on others." Cheetara met Tygra's eyes. "But right now I'm more concerned about you. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Tygra. You really don't deserve that. After all," she smiled, "I wouldn't be here talking to you if you hadn't found Celeste in the first place." She drew him into a warm hug.

Tygra's smile broadened as he hugged his closest friend back. "Thank you, Cheetara. You always know how to cheer me up."

In the dark and dirty engine room of Skytomb, Chilla stood in front of the industrial-sized furnace that fueled its power. She was once again dressed in her usual style of dress of a cape, boots, and tight white dress—an outfit of which she had several duplicates in very similar variations. Despite her inherent dislike and discomfort in the heat the furnace put out, she opened the hatch and tossed the red toga and sandals she wore back in Damien's home into the blaze. "Good riddance to bad memories," she said to herself as she watched the flames consume them into ash.

A sudden voice from behind her indicated that she was no longer alone. "Re-enacting Damien's dramatic exit, are you?" Alluro questioned with an odd smirk from the balcony above.

She turned, glanced up at the psi, and then returned her attention to the fire. "Just getting rid of some junk that holds absolutely no value to me," she answered flatly.

Alluro took a few steps toward her, down the metal stairwell. "Luna is concerned about you," he said abruptly.

Chilla looked over at him again, that time with a mildly inquisitive expression on her face.

"She thinks you're acting strangely," he continued. "And she's wondering if you might vanish again… or do something equally ill-thought out."

"She told you that?" Chilla raised a dubious eyebrow. It was not like Luna at all to talk about her personal feelings or concerns. In fact, Chilla had once remembered their illustrious leader saying that she would rather spend a week locked in a room with Slythe and Mumm-Ra together than discuss anything of a personal nature with some of her crew. "What exactly did Luna say?" she pressed, suddenly struck with the feeling that Alluro was there for something else that had little to do with Luna at all.

"Like I said, she expressed some concern that you might not be completely over your feelings for Damien," the psi answered, catching her gaze and watching it intently. After a significant pause, he added, "Are you?"

Chilla hardened her expression, unwilling to indulge him any further. "I just burned everything that could possibly remind me of the creep, so what do you think?" she hissed in response, the frost on her breath evaporating almost instantly in the furnace's heat. "I couldn't care less about him. He was just some worthless man who tricked me long enough to put me under a spell so he could use me. I wouldn't have put up with him at all if he hadn't affected my mind with his magic." She slammed the heavy iron door of the furnace shut. "Actually, I'm surprised he even got that far. It's not like his type has any appeal to me. None at all. So why would I care? He's dead, and it's no great loss."

She brushed the grimy dust from the furnace off her gloves to see if Alluro was going to say anything, but he remained silent, so she continued. "Falling in love just makes you weak anyway, and believe me, I won't make that mistake again. It's something only the insecure need anyway. So you can tell Luna that it'll be a hot day on the ice moon before I give any man the chance to mess with me that way ever again."

Alluro straightened haughtily. "Right. I'll let her know." His tone was stiff, but hung in the air like the smoke from the Thundrillium burning along with her toga and sandals. She did not have anything to say to it, so she decided to let it be, and it seemed that Alluro was of the same mind, for the engine room door slammed shut loudly as he made his exit, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. Chilla resumed watching the fire behind the iron grate of the furnace door.

"Never again," she murmured. "Never again."

The End