Flame and Wind

It's as though I don't have enough problems in my own dimension.

I stride through Sol Palace. Servants and soldiers part for me in receding tides of shadow and amber, my flames cutting through the shadows. The carpet sizzles under my footsteps. I vault up the stonework and faceted, jewelled pillars of the throne room, to the Sol Chamber on the floor above.

A rainbow of colours shine from the edges of the door. The gems are restless.

The darkness melts away as I enter the chamber, and the flames at my fingertips pop and spit embers, lighting my path. The seven Sol Emeralds pulse in time with my heartbeat. The gem on my forehead fizzes.

For all the times that everyone rushes around trying to collect the emeralds, Chaos or Sol, the fools aren't even aware of what they're actually taking. Holy Chaos, the amount of times I've seen a certain group of hedgehogs having a playground spat over dividing up the gems. Watching the ensuing chaos made me feel somewhat like a big sister on the sidelines, keeping an eye out to make sure the children didn't kill each other. No, they're not aware at all.

The gems aren't merely differentiated by their colour. They each have different inherent qualities. Even now, the stones whisper in the still blackness. The Red Sol Emerald speaks of anger and lust; the Blue Sol Emerald of watery secrets and tranquility. Maybe normal people can't sense it. Maybe I project these qualities onto the stones after having spent so much time with them. Maybe it's nothing but a deluded fantasy on my part.

The Red Sol Emerald flickers and sparks before me. I gaze at it, then break the spell and slip to the floor, leaning against the pedestal. I rest my forehead against the chiselled stone. The gem on my forehead grates against the hard surface. It's never gotten scratched, to this day. An unbreakable curse, an unbreakable seal that fire cannot burn away, that no power can break.

A flicker. I glance up, and reach out a hand. The reddish light plays on my skin, speaking of spilled blood and stop lights, of flames I couldn't control, of sunsets I've regretted.

Flames whisper below the material of my gloves.

These flames. A curse and a gift. Like my crown, and my guardianship.

I touch the gem with my fingertip. My vision blackens, tinted lenses overlaying onto my world and filtering a chaos of images into my head. Metal, robotic metal. A rich world, of blue neon lights, of sand, of and green that was still alive. Of filthy metropolises, of untouched paradise, mixed with familiar faces and shouts from familiar voices. Silhouettes from long-gone nostalgia.

I know that smirk.

I take a second to look past the vision, with a wry smile, like glancing away from a book so you can get a laugh out of your system. Still as brash and reckless as our last inter-dimensional meeting, I see.

The blue fades out, and the dusky Sol Chamber fills my sight again. The gems quieten, and the Red Emerald stills. And I wish I could ignore the feeling of impending doom that the vision left me with.

'So…' I murmur. 'I'm going to his world. Again. At least I have the choice this time.'

I stare out the open panels, at the golden-robed attendants and at the streets outside the palace. Eyes and gems gleam in a myriad of facets, competing for my eyes' attention. My subjects. My responsibility. I can't just up and leave.

I don't have any friends; no one that could guard the Sol dimension in my absence. I sigh. Except for Marine, but she can barely keep her youth group in line, let alone a kingdom.

The Blue Emerald flashes, and I resist the urge to poke it away, sacred jewel or no. His world opened my eyes. I can't stand back and let it be destroyed.

I stand, and walk past the pedestals to a framed portal of glimmering light and rippling gold, and I plunge my hand in, breaking chains of starlight and time.

And I take out the Sol Sceptre — a gleaming weapon that distorts the fabric of the universe. Melted space and time drips down my arms in rivulets of gold and I turn on my heel, slinging the staggeringly heavy weapon over my shoulder like a battle axe as I stalk down the red carpet runner and down the stairs, dripping liquid power as I go.

Gasps spring up and are quickly stifled as I stride through the palace.

I walk in on a meeting of state, and the uproar is tremendous. I ignore the chaos and greet my high steward and his aides as they cross the room. 'I have to go somewhere.'

'You make quite the bloodthirsty warrior with the sacred weapon in your hands, Princess,' he says, a soft smile on his face.

'I'm a warrior with or without it. I have my flames and claws.' I turn, and the skyline and landscape of the kingdom sear my eyes in the bright light, rolling like the ocean waves outside the glass windows. I glance back at my steward. 'I just like how it looks, frankly.'

'And the space-time bending capabilities are helpful, I suppose,' he says in return.

'Well met.'

Putting jest aside, I pull the sceptre from my shoulders and hold it like a staff. The tip hits the ground and makes a dent. 'Guard the kingdom,' I whisper. 'I will return as soon as I can.'

I can barely hear his voice. 'Royal Flame… What if Eggman Nega…?'

Attacks and murders my people while my fire is burning in another world?

I meet his gaze. 'Pray that he lacks the ingenuity.'

He nods, and melts back into the storm of noise. I face my people, sceptre in one hand and fire in the other.

'I'm leaving,' I say, in a frenzy of murmurs and flame. 'I'm leaving to find the wind.'

Wind and flame. Another storm is starting.

The End

A/N: Reviews welcome, and thanks for reading!