Chapter 14: Further, Further, Yet Further

The next few hours were eventful, to say the least: upon reaching the Commons, our first stop was Headmaster Ambrose's house. However, we came to a slight bump in the road: the house was only open to the students and professors of Ravenwood, which was in turn only open to Wizards. The next course of action was clear to the both of us; I went ahead and enrolled myself. The process itself was pretty straight forward, the placement exam setting me up in the Fire School quickly enough, but then I was asked to make a Wizard name.

"Wazzat?" I asked the examiner, a bored teen with brown hair who felt like a Diviner, who sighed dourly.

"A Wizard name is a name that you choose to identify—no, to define you," he said dramatically. "It is meant to represent the truest representation of your innermost self in the names and words contained within the Book of Secrets. At least, that's what you're supposed to do." He scoffed. "Half the newbies from Terra or Soil or whatever it's called go by Luke Skywalker for some reason, and half of everyone else goes by Wolf. Just Wolf!" He threw his hands into the air as if giving up on the world, and sneezed as he kicked up some dust from the ancient tome between us. Composing himself, he coughed self-consciously and continued, "With a Wizard name, you will be able to initiate contact with other Wizards telepathically, so long as you know their Wizard name. You'll also be able to enter the Crown Shop by using it as your personal password."

"Crown Shop?"

"Basically a mental catalog," he explained. "You spend Crowns, a specific paper money, instead of gold. You can find unique items there you can't find anywhere else in the Spiral. But before I sound too much like a shill, how about that Wizard name? Just use the Book to assemble it."

I assumed figuring out a name would be the hard part, but no: the hard part was actually getting the damn thing working! The ink kept shifting into different lists of names: girl's, boy's, and several in entirely different languages. The examiner, after inspecting it for a second, slapped the shifting pages a few times like he was trying to knock an old computer back into working order. This somehow worked, however, the ink settling to the girl list like it was supposed to. "Sorry," the examiner said, "this happens a lot to nonhuman students who enroll. All the Book needs is a little attitude adjustment." Compared to all that nonsense, the name itself was easy to do: after a minute or two looking through the possible name combinations, I gravitated toward a pair of words I thought fit together perfectly with the name I already had. I wrote it out in full with an offered quill: Nicole Sunbloom.

"Ech." I looked at the examiner in surprise and some irritation, and he quickly held his hands up in peace. "Not bagging the name, honest," he said. "It's just that, you now share the name of a, just, godawful wine. Real poor quality stuff."

"How would you even know?" I asked. "You're like, what, sixteen? At best?"

"I'm seventeen, and why do you care- I mean, never you mind!" he said quickly. "Look, you've got your name, you're officially enrolled, your first class is in three days, so get everything on this list." He handed me a list of things I needed: a set of magic chalk, a crafting bench, parchment, quills and inkwells…

"Hold on, I have to go out and buy all of this myself?" I didn't quite mean for that to be a question, but he nodded in confirmation anyway. "You can't do this to me, man, I got no money!"

"Welcome to Ravenwood," he said with a shrug as he began packing up. "Well, I gotta head to class now, but hey, it's not all bad. Your wand, school robes, and spellbook are all provided free, plus if you're really hurting for cash you could do an errand or two for the Professors; they pay fairly well, and they aren't likely to get you to do something that'll get you killed. See you around, I guess." And that was that. My money troubles were a problem for another time, though, as we had work to do: talking to my new Headmaster.

However, we came across a new bridge to cross: according to the Registrar, Headmaster Ambrose was off-world for the week; all the Heads of the top magic schools in the Spiral were working overtime to set up a tournament between their best students in time for Halloween. Until means to the world (I didn't catch the name) was made available to spectators, we were stuck. We were going to return to Unicorn Way to tell Lady Oriel, when ANOTHER problem reared its ugly head:

"What do you mean the gates are closed?!" I yelled at the red-faced guard. "We came through here an hour ago; what the hell could have happened in that time?!"

"Ma'am, I will gladly answer your questions as soon as you stop SCREAMING in my face! Please move aside!"

"Fine, how about instead, I just- ack!"

"Sorry about that, Private," Chrome said quickly as she dragged me back by the collar.

"Y'know, this is the last thing I need, having all these screaming idiots in my face day after day," the guard, Private Glass, lamented. "I already got guard duty, isn't that punishment enough?"

She nodded sympathetically, even as she sat me down on the curb. "I can certainly see your point. We'll be out of your hair soon enough, don't worry; my friend here is just on edge, and we do live in Unicorn Way, after all. We just want to know what happened."

"Leapers is what happened," Glass replied sourly as he adjusted his helmet. "Damn things poured out of the sewers like rats. Swamped the whole area clear to the Park." He snorted, and muttered as an afterthought, "At least they scared off those dogs…"

"The hell are Leapers?" I asked.

"Big old rabbits, 'bout the size of a dog. Hit like Kraken and can jump for days."

"Wait, Dog?" Chrome asked. "Like a Marleybone Dog or-" She interrupted herself with a jaw-cracking yawn that lasted at least half a minute. Blinking owlishly, she shrugged at our stunned looks. "It's been a long day," she explained. "So, Marleybone?"

"Er, no, no, like a…" he set his arms apart, sizing an invisible Leaper, "…eh, I wanna say Labrador? Could be heavier, though."

"If rabbits are the problem, then the answer is simple," I said, standing up. "Just throw lettuce at them till they leave!"

"We tried that the last time they showed up, and all that happened was we ran outta lettuce!" he shot back. "All we can do now is hope the Headmaster comes back early for some reason."

"Why wait for all that time?" Chrome asked reasonably. "Why not ask one of the Professors in Ravenwood for help?"

Glass's snort echoed off the walls. "Think anyone there would listen to anything a lowly guard had to say without Ambrose twisting their arm? That's rich; Wizard City could be burning from Olde Town to Crab Alley, and you wouldn't see hide nor hair from Wizard City's Best until the old man started kickin' seats."

"Why not handle this yourselves?" I asked, trying to get a peek through the bars. "Rabbit-dogs shouldn't be to too much for a full patrol to handle."

"You kiddin'?" he said as he pushed me back with the shaft of his spear. "Those things got magic; me and the boys aren't goin' anywhere near 'em."

"What, none of you know magic?"

"If I knew magic, do ya really think I'd be a guard?"

I thought about it: for the most part, a member of the Wizard City guard could expect to encounter drunks, petty thieves, and gates… mostly gates. They were guards after all. "Fair enough."

"Yeah, sixty gold a day's nowhere near enough to deal with this."

"Can't be that tough, though," I said, getting airborne and floating over the gate proper, ignoring Glass and Chrome's annoyed but placid calls to land:

"Hey, the gate's closed for a reason, ya know!"

"Nicole, listen to the guard!"

I cleared the gate, getting a peek at the dozen or so mounds of brown fur below me; they seemed to curl up when they slept. "Oh please, if they want a fight, they're gonna have to come up here, and I don't see that happening any time soon- OH SHIT!" Without warning, two of them flew at me as if shot from a cannon, one after another. I dodged them with room to spare, only for an unnoticed third one to slam into me and carry me with it as it continued its unchecked flight path across the Commons. We barreled through the air, getting along about as well as a giant kamikaze rabbit and its unwilling passenger could: I kept slamming meteors onto its head, while it kept trying to kick me. The kicks were bad news by themselves: being powerful enough to launch itself into the air like a goddamn rocket, the Leaper's hind legs were beating me like a pinata. And then I learned two things within a second of each other:

1) Leapers, this one at least, could set themselves on fire, and

2) I, contrary to whatever subconscious belief I had prior to this, was not fire-resistant.

xxXxx

"GAOW SHIT!" I shouted as I jerked "awake"; "awake" because, as it quickly became clear with a cursory glance at my surroundings, I was actually in my Mindscape. I got off my armchair and flitted to the bookshelf, where I pulled out a familiar book and opened it:

Sup wassup, Nicole, welcome back! I was just beginning to think you would have trouble finding a way back here, but here you are! All it takes is a bit of extreme trauma to get the juices flowing; who could've guessed? Well, never mind all that; time might be running slower as far as we're concerned, but you're still on a flaming Leaper that's about to crash into the library you-first, so let's get cracking on solutions or, if that doesn't pan out, looking through memories or something. HUT!

I replaced the book without tearing it to piecessomehow. As it was, I didn't much like my position: as the Mindscape said, outside of my mind I was on fire, unconscious, and en route to scenic Death with jack diddly shit I could do to stop it. The best I could do was prepare myself mentally and head outside, where I'd have to fight through the pain of being both on fire and mauled by a Leaper to fight free of said Leaper's grip (which I couldn't do even before all this) and stop my mad flight before I smashed into a building. Not fun. Seeing as I was in no real rush, I pulled out a blue book, which I remembered from last time would had a memory inside, or at least part of one. Getting comfy on my armchair, I breathed deep, and opened the book.

The darkness that surrounds all Worlds big and small does not "surround", per se; that implies that the darkness is an object that can affect other objects in and of itself when in reality, it cannot, and indeed is not. True darkness is the Void, the absence of matter, light, etc., unable to affect objects in its scope purely because there is nothing to do the affecting. Objects can exist in the Void, of course; everything exists somewhere, even those hypothetical Somewheres. Events transpire as well, such as this one:

"Oh crap, where am I now?" I said, floating through some sort of darkness. It was nothing but sheer black occasionally dotted by far off lights, almost like stars. I wasn't sure if I wandered into some nutcase's magical trap, or if I somehow got transported to the Void between the Worlds. Either way, wasn't good for me by anyone's measure. I slapped myself lightly, trying to get myself moving. "Come on, me!" I said to myself. "There's gotta be a way out of this! Just look around for a bit, there's gotta be something that can help you!" I was kidding myself, and I knew it: I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face! Still, I wasn't going to get anything done just sitting there, so I scouted out the biggest "star" and made my way to it, swimming as best I could through empty space.

Several hours of hard work later, I made it to the light. It wasn't a world like I hoped, or at least it wasn't a world I was familiar with. It was a foggy silver expanse that, somehow, exuded gravity, and also had a floor, seeing as how I was standing on it. I walked for a time, calling out, "Hello? Anyone? I'm in your, uh, world! Can you tell me where I am?! Anybody!?" A prickling at the back of my neck made me whirl around, fire crackling in my hand, ready to be flung at… an oval?

It was just that: a pale, flesh-colored oval, about the size of a human head, hanging suspended at around eye level. There were no other features on it, and no magic signature at all, but for all that, the vague sense of threat still persisted. Not wanting to turn my back on it, I walked backwards, only to discover that it didn't get any further away, and when I turned my head, it followed, as if it was superimposed over my field of vision. "Oooooh no. Oooooh crap oh shit oh sweet American Jesus why is this happening to me?" I moaned as I whipped my head around, trying to get rid of the oval.

Stop.

I jerked to a standstill as a 'voice' rolled across the ether.

Take The Knife. Give Me Form.

My right hand rose, without my consent, flame guttering out, and pulled a Knife out of thin air. One look was all I needed to decide that the Knife was evil: the blade was a mottled brown, with knotted red inlay twisting around it like veins. Its hilt was made of a half-burned bone which was inscribed with runes, and the magic that surrounded it was acrid and foul. "To hell with this!" I shouted, but all my attempts to prize my hand free of the weapon failed utterly.

Give Me Eyes, So That I May See.

Running on autopilot, my Knife-wielding hand reached toward the oval, ignoring all my efforts to control it or hold it back. The knife met the oval in the place where an eye would be if it were a face, and, with a little unprompted pressure, punctured the skin and carved out a small crescent moon. Almost immediately, black fluid welled up in the cut like tears, and a stench wafted over me that was so foul I wanted to find relief in a mountain of rotting corpses. It only got worse when the Knife made another "eye" to match the first. I briefly wondered what the point of all this was, when the cuts opened, revealing constantly shifting, rolling red eyes, trembling and darting about as if terrified (or else high out of its mind). Some other features graced the oval now, also: ears poked out of a full head of snow white hair, and a small nose twitched occasionally.

Give Me A Mouth, So That I May Speak.

The Knife stretched out again, this time on the cheek. Before I could mount any sort of defense, it pulled swiftly across the face, making a grotesque parody of a smile. I moaned aloud; the smell was indescribable at this point, and the sight of the mouth opening, a fountain of black blood gushing out, to reveal a hideous array of metal fangs only twisted my stomach further into knots. The Face's eyes trained on me and, grinning widely, gave me a wink.

"Give Me A Name, So That I May Be."

The voice was the worst part: it was a dozen voices, all speaking at once, all different volumes, tones, speeds, and cadences that left me horrified and bewildered. Even as I tried to get myself back to base, alien visuals slammed into my head: crowds of people running away from an overhead threat; explosion after explosion rocking a formerly flying metropolis; a bear, screaming as it ran through a burning forest, panic powering it through the impossible agony of the flames devouring its fur and flesh. Endless images of despair and destruction, unyielding rage and a childlike wonder driving all of it. "W-what is this?!" I stammered, my gaze locked onto the Face's.

"It Is All That I Am. It Is All That I Have Done. Name Me."

Indeed, a name became clearer and clearer to me, even as the images crushed into my head faster than ever before:

I almost said it out loud, if only to stop the blindingly painful assault, when it stopped of its own accord, fixating on a particular moment: it was a pale yellow planet, viewed from a collection of screens taking up one full wall of the craft I was standing in. Before I could make sense of it, the vision changed again, lingering this time around, allowing me time to experience the events in detail:

All he could do was roar in helpless rage as the crush of soldiers buried him, their unfocused but numerous hits dragging him to the steaming crater below. "No! NO!"

Is that really all you have?

Even as he hit the ground hard enough to create a second, smaller crater, he looked up to the sky in wonder and relief, though he couldn't see anything past his enemies' armored bodies.

M-master! He cried out mentally, trying and failing to break free of the crush of soldiers, and only getting a flare of energy searing the side of his face for the trouble. I… I can't beat them all! There are too many of them! Help!

You wanted the power now, before your "eternal foe" returned. This is what you need to do to attain it, came the dismissive reply. You thought my way was boring, and ineffective, so I decided to put you in something more your style. As I said before, each soldier's strength is roughly three fourths of your full power, but there are a hundred or so of them, so you'll want to pick them off quickly-

I CAN'T! His cry was filled with an emotion that shocked his master into silence: fear. They all flew off when I made my move, and they all rushed me at once when I got close. I'm buried under them, I can't see, I'M GOING TO DIE! His control was rapidly slipping, and it showed, his attempts to free himself reduced to flailing wildly, trying to get even one limb free. A well placed punch to the gut by an opportunistic grunt stopped even those, and he could only lay there, gasping hopelessly, as the soldiers beat him mercilessly. Blood was coughed up as his ribs cracked, and he roared in pain when another beam of energy bored through his right bicep. Please, master… he called laboriously, I'm not… strong enough… save… me…

There was a pause, and then: You know I can't help you in this trial.

Master, please! he cried.

If I intervene now, everything you have suffered so far will have been for nothing! His master's voice was solid and unyielding, but its customary softness was still clear in his tone. You will survive this trial, my friend. The power has always been within you! The key to it is your rage, so don't despair, just get ANGRY! Think of all the constant slights Jasper gave you over the years! Think about when your tail was cut off! Think about all the times you were beaten, and your foe humiliated you beyond even that shame! Take all of those memories, and use them! Ascend to godhood! Take your place amongst your rivals and friends! Don't let your fear be your downfall!

He tried. Oh, the gods above and below knew he tried. But the pain, the dark, the shouts and grunts of the soldiers, the fetid stench of blood, his and theirs, were all taking their toll on him. His heartbeat slowed drastically, and his vision, obscured already, dimmed further. His limbs grew heavy, and his mind went fuzzy. I… can't, he finally managed to force out. It's too much-

What are you, damn it, a coward!?

He opened his eyes, shocked. M-master?

I can't believe I wasted my time on such a worthless pupil. Go ahead and die; after all, who would miss you? Your father is dead, and your companions would go much further without having to carry your dead weight. Your "rival", as you so placed him, probably won't even realize you're gone. Look at you, too afraid to even hear his name, about to die in a ditch. How fitting for trash like you.

He howled every foul oath and condemnation he could muster to the heavens, bucking against the ground and the soldiers with everything he had, which was growing with his misery and desperation. The words weren't what hurt him; after all, he said as much the same to himself many times before while training. No, it was the fact that his master cast him aside so quickly, like he never cared about him at all. Sorrow turned to grief turned to anger turned to FURY, and, in a flash of molten gold, he stood, the soldiers, mere gnats in his eyes, being tossed aside. As one they ran to him, to Death, with anger in their eyes and glowing energy in their palms, titans of destruction to mortals, but less than nothing to him. He ROARED, the sheer force of it blasting them back further than any bomb, many of them being rent to pieces with its intensity. He flew after the remnants of the fighting force, reaching a cluster of them before they had time to blink. He took his time with this group; in nearly a second, he drove his fist through the nearest of them and, with a neat snap and a messy-sounding squelch, tore out the spine, the force at which he did so sending it flying through the eye and into the brain of the second.

The last two finally realized he was there, and tried to mount a defense: one skidded behind him and grabbed his arms, pulling them back, giving the other leave to beat his exposed body. Sneering, the soldier cocked a fist back, dropped a haymaker on his face, and screamed as the bones of his hand shattered against it. Breathing in, he took one look at the writhing soldier, and fired a deadly beam of energy from his mouth, incinerating the grunt instantly. The one behind him screamed in terror as he switched the grip and held onto him. With a booming cackle, he let loose the energy inside him as plasma, and built it up further and further until it resembled a massive sphere of golden flame, reaching a mile in every direction, annihilating everything in its radius. He extinguished it only when he felt the energies of all but one person disappear, burned away by his divine light. He shot toward the remaining power like a rocket, reaching a low cliff a hundred miles away almost instantly.

His arrival brought a rush of burning wind that set the scrubland ablaze, but his master- no, his betrayer- stood in front of him still, eyes wide as he took him in. He observed the strange being in front of him as well: his skin was a smooth periwinkle color, off-white chitin protecting his torso like a cuirass. Delicate fangs peeked out as he grinned wide, and the bangle on one of the short horns jutting up and out the sides of his head chimed happily as he stepped forward on boot-like feet.

"I can't believe it worked," he said as he approached, tail twitching as it trailed behind him. "Look at you, your power! Not to put too fine a point on it, but I did right by you, wouldn't you say, little one?"

The pridein his master's voice threw him, enough for him to cut off the still-raging storm of plasma his aura fed. "I… what?"

"I'm sorry I said what I said, but to awaken your power, your rage first had to peak. This method was harsh, but it got the job done. But still, what was a necessity was also a cruelty, and I apologize, truly. Are you willing to forgive?" he asked as he clapped his hands on his shoulders.

He stared deep into his master's ultramarine eyes, trying to discern any semblance of a lie, but seeing only joy, and a newfound respect. He shook his head, thoughts suddenly becoming foggy. "I… I do," he finally said, driving his thoughts down, leaving them for another time, albeit with a promise to review them later.

"Good," came the relieved reply, "then we can leave this world, for good most likely." They began walking east, where a swirling pillar of iridescent light loomed, transposed starkly against the polluted brown sky. "To commemorate your success, I feel that a celebratory dinner is in order," he continued, not seeing him fall further and further behind.

What's… wrong with me? He thought, coming to a stop. His vision was bleary, and his injuries, a minute earlier basically nonexistent, now seared with intense pain. He tried to take another step, but his strength, a moment ago so prodigious, failed completely, and he crumbled to the packed ground, the world turning gray.

The sound of dry grass being crunching underfoot, his head being lifted outside his volition, and his master's voice, panicked and far away, calling his name:

xXxXx

"What? But, How- No!" The voice shouted as I snapped out of the vision. "How Are You- Stay Away From Those!" Even though I was still reeling from the mental whiplash, I still had the presence of mind to marvel that its—his—voice had changed: it was less discordant, having fewer voices, with more being more identifiably male, and all displaying varying levels of the anger and horror fighting for dominance on his face. Before I could see if anything else was different, though, I was off again, the Face's howls fading away as the new vision formed:

xXxXx

She ducked under another swing, an irritated growl escaping unbidden from her throat. Leaping forward, she grabbed at the weapon, an exquisitely beautiful crystal rod, only for her assaulter to dive away, making her overbalance. Regaining her footing, she blocked another blow, this time getting hold of the rod, pulling it and her attacker toward her.

(You Don't Understand! Get Out Of There! Get Out Of My Head!)

Securing a death grip on her throat, she said, "I will say this one last time, Blue." Ignoring her quickly intensifying migraine, she pulled the reluctant malcontent closer, their faces mere inches apart, and continued, "Stand down, tell me where your sisters are, and RETURN. TO. YOUR. POD. IMMEDIATELY. Do I make myself clear?"

(No… Please! I, I Don't Want To-)

"N…never!" Blue said, wrenching her way out of her grasp and jumped back, bare feet hitting the smooth crystalline floor with a soft pat. "We refuse to remain under your control any longer!"

She knew she could defeat her with relative ease using force. However, experience told her that beating down a potential renegade wouldn't kill the embers of rebellion in their heart, but instead drive said embers further down, igniting the flames in earnest at a later date. The embers would have to be dug out using a more tactful approach. Seeing as Blue was the youngest of her three wayward daughters, and thus the most susceptible to this sort of thing (indeed, that was probably why she was in this to begin with), it was far and away the most appealing plan. With a hefty sigh, she said in a honeyed tone, "Blue, your sisters are leading you astray. They're simply using you to get what they want; they don't care about your well-being at all! Don't you see that?"

Blue's answer to that was a mirthless laugh that tore at her heart. ""Care"? You say that as if you ever cared about us. You call us your daughters, but all we really are to you are dolls, puppets you make say or do what you want, when you want. Spare me your lies! You're going to leave this ship, and never return, and that's if you're lucky!" Flash-forming another rod, she rushed her again, readying a powerful strike. Reading her like a book, she only crossed her arms and waited for it, spinning behind her once she got close and elbowing her in the back of the head, sending her crashing to the floor. She didn't wait, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up again despite her attempts to pull herself free.

"Blue, if they are the ones with your best interests in mind, tell me this: where are they now?"

"Why would I tell you?" Blue sneered, but she only shrugged; there would be time for punishment when all was done and they were all together.

"Never mind, I already know: the ship's control room, to get as far away from me as possible when you force me into the airlock and jettison me into the coldness of space. But if I may ask, why you? Why, of the three of you, send you specifically, the youngest and weakest, to face your progenitor?"

"They… they knew I could handle you!" she said, but the growing note of unease of her voice belied her words.

"No, they didn't," she cooed. "They know you will fall here; they simply don't care. They want you to hold me here long enough for them to open the air-lock, removing me, yes, but also you."

"My sisters would never do that!" she hissed, but she ceased struggling, slowly being calmed by the soothing cadence of her voice.

"Your sisters are doing this as we speak," she insisted, slackening her grip; she wouldn't run now, beguiled by the truth as she was. "They see you as an acceptable loss, a pawn to sacrifice to take the queen. You are expendable to them."

"I… you… y-you're wrong!" Blue rasped, eyes squeezed shut. "You're trying to trick me, turn me away from our goal! They would never do such a thing to their…"

"To their own sister?" she pounced on the pause. "Their comrade? They certainly have no trouble doing the same to their own mother! Open your eyes, Blue! Your sisters want me gone, and you're the price they're willing to pay to make that happen!"

(No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.)

"I… I…" Blue's voice kept trailing off, and she made one last effort to pull away.

She deigned to pull her into her embrace instead, smoothing her hair as she cradled her. "It's all right, it's all right," she whispered, gently rocking left and right. "Let us leave this dire place for now, love."

"…Okay." It was the utter defeat in Blue's voice, the alarming hollowness, that sent a jolt of pain and guilt through her, and she once again felt the need to protect her youngest from her elders' antics.

"It is all right, my daughter," she reassured her. "Things were said, accusations were made, but in the end, there was no harm-"

Crack.

(NO.)

"Ooh, but there was, wasn't it?" the voice behind her asked as she and Blue sank to their knees, both impaled by a translucent blade from behind. On autopilot, she pushed Blue off the blade, who flopped to the floor with an agonized cry. "Oh, get up, Blue," the blackguard giggled, "All I did was run you through; you won't even remember it come tomorrow. In contrast to HER-" it was here that a hefty kick launched her into the just opening airlock- "who won't remember anything ever again. Oops, almost forgot!"

She had landed on her stomach, forcing the blade almost completely out, but it still jarred slightly as it was gripped on the other side and yanked out. A wet tinkling sound confirmed the worst: "My… Heart…"

"Broken, I'm sure," came the glib reply. "But really, it's for the best: we'll finally be free of you, and I'm sure you'll be alright wherever you end up."

"Mother!" Blue rasped, horrified.

A snort, loud enough to carry over even the now closing airlock doors. "Baby Blue, how about you find something useful to do; I've already had to take out YOUR garbage, so how about you go about clearing out her chambers so I can finally move in?"

"We can't do this!" Blue suddenly said, rushing to her prone form, but was grabbed round the neck and thrown back. Whatever remark was shot off was lost to her as the doors sealed themselves. The traitor spared one last look at her, an unreadable expression in her eyes, before slapping an out of sight button and sauntering off. Blue, however, pressed her face to the window, eyes wide, and mouthed her name, before the gates opened to the void:

"NoNoNONONononONonONONOnononOnonoNOnonONOnonoNooOoO!"

I was ripped out, of the airlock,

of the vision,

of the memory, even as the Voice screamed louder and louder, shaking the walls and rattling the windows, before cutting out completely, leaving only a dead silence that stretched on until it said, pleaded, in a small voice, "Please… don't say it."

He may as well asked me to hold up the sky. I said the name:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

The scream went on forever, letting out unyielding rage, pure loathing, unbearable sorrow, and unimaginable pain. Huge cracks and rends opened on the walls, showering me with plaster dust, and letting me know that I overstayed my welcome. I dived for the door, tearing it open and blasting through the blankness

until I woke up in earnest on the no-longer-flaming Leaper, which was still on a collision course with some building I didn't care about in the slightest. I wound up my arm, ignoring the crackling of my skin, and smashed into the creature with a satisfying crunch. The blow caused its trajectory to skew down and to the left, as much because of the actual force as because it controlled its own flight, at least somewhat.

I didn't give it a chance: flaring my wings out, I grabbed hold of its ears and flew up, the forces it was already moving under making something in one or both of us dislocate. When we were a hundred feet up, I changed tact, winging around and flying straight down, the Leaper's death screech echoing through the air as it was pulled along. With a yell of effort, I spun hard, swinging the Leaper downward like a mallet against the cobbles. Results, as I heard later, were predictably messy. I however wouldn't be able to see them for myself, as I hit the ground immediately afterward. The results of that: also predictable.