#15

Regina hardly gets ten feet towards the castle when Lancelot suddenly appears before her, creeping among the shadows. Emma runs to meet them.

"I'm afraid your hooked friend has dynamited our secrecy," he whispers in between gasps, clearly trying to catch his breath.

"What!?" Both women hiss, kneeling before Lancelot, who's having a hard time recovering from the effort he must have made in his way back to them.

"Well, let me summarize it for you," he finally rises, and gestures for them all to approach a more secluded spot by the near trees. "Apparently he terribly needed to see his damsel in her chambers," he points to Emma, who grunts in disgust. "And improvised a show of thumping on the door, enlivened by some inebriated, spiteful lover yelling. By the time I crouched down on Snow and David's window frame, he had managed to quite a crowd at your closed door, milady."

Emma and Regina look at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief, even though they probably shouldn't be that surprised.

"Unfortunately, the crowd included the King's knights, who took a sudden interest in taking part in the tragic play unveiling there, and, well, simply took the nearest bench and used it as a battering ram to tear said door down," Lancelot hurries to add, side eyeing the walls of the castle, where the noises are getting more clear and louder.

Emma's left wondering for a moment of the very telling fixation some men have with rams and tearing doors down, until Lancelot speaks again.

"In conclusion, Arthur saw you weren't there and panicked. When I finally left the window behind and began my way back here, it seemed like hostilities between two fronts were escalating rapidly to…"

He doesn't get to finish. The noise has ceased to be a distant murmur, to become a roar that spreads along the stone castle walls with a joyous echo. They turn towards it and, slowly, a quite surreal scene deploys before them. Dozens of human-shaped and blurred figures are approaching their esplanade. If Emma's not mistaken, they're walking backwards.

She recognizes the dwarves, Belle holding the preserved rose, Hook and Hood shoulder to shoulder, Granny with raised fists, and, in front of all of them, her parents, protecting Henry. Emma soon gets the whole picture and then understands the situation.

Behind the last row of the Storybrooke gang Arthur's men appear, led by the King. Both groups have drawn their weapons, and walk slowly towards each other, but no one seems to be in a rush to strike the first blow. Her mother, with the bow ready, is issuing orders to all her people, directing the retreat, until the esplanade begins to be flooded by them.

"I'm going to end that utter garbage of a pirate," Regina utters, raising her hands in attack position, while Lancelot runs towards his friends, pinwheeling his sword.

"We have been discovered!" David shouts over the racket.

"Oh, really?" Regina says, sarcastically, already igniting her hands.

"IN THE NAME OF CAMELOT, I COMMAND YOU TO COME TO HALT!" Arthur yells furiously.

"We're going to free Merlin, isn't that what you wanted?" Emma asks sarcastically.

"You will not fool us! We know what you want and who you are, Dark One!"

"Oh, so I'm the threat here?" she says, as all the Storybrooke gang begins to surround the tree, leaving them in the center of that security perimeter.

"Prove you're not one, give us that dagger!"

"So that's what your men were looking for last night?" she barks, pissed off. "It's in the safest and most protected place you can imagine. Good luck trying to get it."

"There are other ways to stop monsters like you." He replies, enraged. "Camelot knights, at my command…"

"People from Storybrooke, get ready…" Snow directs.

An instant later, the screams of both leaders mix, and chaos breaks out. The knights throw themselves against the circle formed by the outsiders. Storybrooke defense holds firm, they don't lose their formation and they reject the attacks the best they can. Until something tips the balance.

Regina, with an animal cry, spreads her arms, and two snake-shaped flames surround the Storybrooke troops without touching them. Their mouths of flaming fangs pounce on the knights.

"WITCH!" Arthur screams in hatred and fear.

"Indeed I am. The best of them all, for that matter," Regina exclaims, adrenaline and rage fueling her. She softens her voice and her icy gaze for an instant, long enough to turn to Emma and mutter, "Get on with it, we've got you covered."

"Are you sure?"

"I trust you," she smiles, before turning back to the battle. "Who wants their ass bitten?" she screams, making her snakes dance once more.

Emma takes a deep breath, lets Regina's voice ring out in her head like a mantra –"I trust you"–, and she mentally goes though each of the steps of the spell. She holds up the first bowl and dumps its contents into the largest bottle with the potion. Behind her, she hears Arthur unleashing all his rage.

"STOP THEM!"

However, the protective circle cannot be assaulted. Regina's fire snakes repel most almost of the attacks, and Arthur's knights are hopelessly outmatched.

Emma should be adding the next ingredient to the potion, but she can't help but to try and get a glimpse of the battle, squinting her eyes to look in between the holes left by her friends guarding her. She sees the king get ahead of all his men, unarmed an apparently unthreatening. The snakes don't take care of him, and Arthur takes a tiny glass jar out of a sachet in his waist. When he opens it, it lets out a cloud of dust, a bright pink nebula that settles over Zelena, the only one that remains on the sidelines, as if attending a function. She waves her hands and tries to brush away the annoying dust, until she goes still, a blank look on her face.

Arthur walks towards her and removing the wristband from her arm, orders, "Kill them all."

Zelena's sadistic and deranged laugh rumbles through the night, as her hands rise, shining with a bright green light. A cascade of water falls on the snakes, drenching all nearby citizens and reducing Regina's magic to smoke.

"Emma, hurry!" Regina pleads, leaving the circle and standing in front, face to face with her sister.

"Regina!" She yells. Zelena's arms flap violently, and the swords of Arthur's knights swing with a life of their own. They rise into the air and, at the same time, they rush against the Storybrooke citizens. Only Regina's quick responses, throwing them away, averts disaster. But Zelena doesn't stop, and Regina's forced to respond faster and faster, more desperate every time. Emma feels unable to concentrate, but she makes a huge effort to take her mind away from the fight, from Regina's grunts, from the screams of concern. Helplessness, rage, the need for control gets on her nerves and, when she pours the liquid from a small bottle in the potion, she notices her pulse trembling. With her other hand, she forces herself not to falter and lets the last drop fall. Just a few more ingredients and it'll be done. She can do it.

"Witch! Take charge of the Dark One!"

"Yes, my lord," Zelena growls, and the battle gets rougher. Zelena levitates until she rises above them and directs her magic towards the center of the circle, towards Emma. When the first emerald bolt smashes into her, Emma huddles with her hands up, ready to defend herself, but never gets to do it. Regina materializes next to her and with a simple magic slap deflects her sister's crackling flare.

Emma does the spell more urgently. She hears the curses crashing near her, the screams that both women utter and how the fight between the rest of those present intensifies now that they don't have Regina's magical protection. She finally dumps the last handful of powders into the potion and waits until it blends with the mixture.

Almost done.

"GO FOR THE DARK ONE, EVERYONE!" Arthur utters, instigating his men to go over their opponents, encouraging Zelena to launch an almost suicidal attack against Emma, but she ends up in direct close combat with Regina. Their magic crackles violently, the sisters so insanely charged with it they seem about to explode.

However, no one manages to stop Emma. Storybrooke troops stand firm, with Regina as the last and insurmountable line of defense. Emma isn't willing to fail them; she won't, even remotely, fail her.

She holds the vial with her tears, and with a deep, ceremonious sigh, pours a drop into the potion.

The night and the ground split in two.

There are no cracks, no collapses, but the world's splitting at her feet. An uncontrollable force that shakes everyone in the kingdom and forces them to stop, terrified. At the epicenter of it all, Emma. The bottle with the potion in front of her has exploded after shaping an unstoppable electric cloud. She can't even open her mouth, before being caught in the middle of a maelstrom of magic.

Then she gets it. The spell is claiming her; it spins around her body and waits for her. For her strength, her power, her two essences converging within her soul.

She extends her arms, lets the magic penetrate her and, when she opens her hands, it comes out in a colossal torrent against the tree, surrounding, strangling and releasing at the same time.

The battle has stopped, and no one can take their eyes off of it.

Emma can barely keep her eyes open, shaken with the most visceral spell she has ever tried.

Suddenly, the magic explodes, and the torrent becomes an indolent ripple. At its expansion, it forces everyone to crouch or fall backwards. Only Emma remains standing, fascinated and expectant. Before her, a shrunken figure stands up under a cloak that resembles the night sky and hides the body that has emerged in the place of the tree.

The silence is deafening and the voice under the cloak echoes throughout the esplanade.

"I was waiting for you, Emma Swan."

To be continued...