Chapter 4: Rondo

…

Phrolova took Rover into her Elysium. It was as though they had stepped on the face of a cathedral's stained window: repeating clovers of black lined with gold crested a compass whose arms stretched towards the edges of the arena. The heart of the compass split radially, rays of sunlight turned inwards, directing the ranks of scales, crests, and spears fleeing the encroaching dark.

The sky had broken white, as if it were an endless window. Fragments drifted down. It seemed no matter how many shards the darkness swallowed, new shards replaced them. As far as the fog would allow, broken mirrors rose like gravestones. No matter where Rover looked, their broken faces turned towards them.

Three mirrors differed from the others, directly bordering the arena. They weren't broken; rather, their glass was missing, replaced by statues of a dancer who wore a dress like that of a Lycoris, hooking upwards in unison with the brass leaves and stalks wreathing the frame of the mirror. It was as though the dancer had broken through, while all others had been broken.

"Where are we?" Rover asked.

"On stage," Phrolova said. She gave a slow twirl in the center of the compass, soaking in the ominous spotlight. "I was going to take you here from Ragunna, and we were going to do a play."

"If it was going to be just the two of us, maybe I should have waited a bit to make it more cinematic."

Phrolova smiled. She closed her eye and raised both of her arms, taking a deep breath. She exhaled, and her hands drifted to the sides of her dress, grabbing them with two fingers. "Can you have tragedy with only two characters?" A dark pool enveloped the arena from her feet, and a shadowy mass rose. As the inky darkness withdrew, it revealed Hecate mimicking Phrolova in a curtsy.

As Hecate spun to the right, Phrolova spun to the left. They drew curving paths on the floor with their feet, taking leaps then tiny, rapid steps. A flicker of recognition crossed Rover's mind. The way Phrolova expressed herself in her hands, waist, and legs betrayed a delicacy that required hundreds of hours of rehearsal.

In their fascination, Rover did not notice when Hecate no longer mirrored Phrolova. In a spin dropping down to one knee, Hecate reached across the arena to catch Phrolova's landing foot. Then with a long, smooth motion, Hecate catapulted Phrolova upwards. It was as though she were floating; she only broke her posture when she caught herself on a swing made of brass Lycoris leaves.

Phrolova raised her hand and began her narration, a hint of fatigue in her voice. "A knight wanders in the castle of the demon lord… and they see something they shouldn't."

Rover noticed Hecate turn towards them.

"'Foolish knight,' says the lord of the manor. 'You have seen my heart, so I shall have yours!'"

In an instant, Hecate was upon Rover. She slashed with both of her fans. Rover rolled to the side but was caught by her leg spinning in a twisted pirouette. For every five steps Rover took, Hecate cleared that distance in a single stride.

"With devastating ferocity, the demon lord pounces on the knight, tearing through their aura of invincibility in an instant!"

"Ragh!" Rover grunted, releasing their havoc wing. Flying backwards, Rover slashed with their scythe, parrying a blow. After gaining some distance, Rover's intuition blared, and they forced themselves to tumble on the ground; razor sharp blades slashed where Rover had been flying mere moments before. There were three Lycoris wraiths. They at first seemed like birds of prey with blades for wings, but once they united with Hecate, they folded themselves and their arms became six red hooks lining her dress.

"The knight gains their footing, but even in the desperate fight, the demon lord only grew more formidable."

Hecate used the wraiths as if they were extensions of herself. Rover parried blow after blow; in the middle of a flurry, a wraith wasn't accounted for, only for them to nearly cleave Rover in two at the hip. Hecate swung a chain of wraiths at Rover, and they zigzagged under it, catching a sword they had thrown an instant before and stabbing at Hecate's face. But the sword didn't reach: it was repelled as though by magnetic force by the appearance of an Evil Eye. The Evil Eye glowed and shot a beam of energy, singing some of Rover's hair as they pushed off with their legs and back into the dance of blades.

"The knight fought with all they had – were their arms growing weak, or had they simply lost feeling? Had they regretted coming here, or did they want to dive even deeper!"

A curtain fell over Rover's vision. Pulled back, it revealed Hecate donning a dress with eyes like those on the wings of a butterfly. In one hand she wielded a chainsword. With every spin of her body and swing of her sword, Hecate's dress flowed and folded, giving the illusion of a magnificent beast blinking. The beast stalked at a distance, lashing out at long range with her bladed whip. Every time Rover pursued, Hecate evaded, her feet so sharp it glided on the solid stone as if it were ice.

"Alas! The knight resisted, but it was as though fighting an army – who could fight the demon lord but a party of adventurers? Journeying alone, all the knight could ask for was to die with company."

Wheels of thorns pursued Rover, tearing lines across the face of the compass. In deadly coordination, the Evil Eyes and thorn wheels alternated in driving Rover in sharp paths away from Hecate. She slammed the ground with her blade-whip, and a line of exploding Lycorises divided the space in half; with Rover's area of movement restricted, they did the only thing they could think of: go on the offensive. Exerting their havoc wing to its limit, Rover shot halfway to Hecate before hearing a sharp, ringing noise: time slowed, but not for Hecate. She readied herself and in an instant was upon Rover. Hecate kicked Rover into the air and jumped. Like a hawk tearing chunks out of prey, Hecate dove at Rover with her whip retracted into a sword. It took all of Rover's focus to parry, every deflected hit disorienting Rover further and further. With Rover unable to resist, Hecate extended her sword into a whip, wrapped Rover up, and slammed them to the ground so hard they bounced. Hecate landed nearby. As Rover struggled to return to their feet, it was as though Hecate were appreciating their own work.

Phrolova looked down from her brass Lycoris swing. Her legs were crossed, head resting on her left hand. "Seeing the knight lying on the ground…" Phrolova paused. "The demon lord-"

"The knight" – Rover dragged themselves back on their feet, surprising Phrolova – "with their body bloodied and battered, looks to the demon lord and makes a request." Rover let their havoc wing disappear.

A/N: (edit) minor word changes.