Villainy I

  ( "Lambkin" )

  In the dark depths awaited a barrier with a purpose easily mistaken, for it was not only designed to keep the curious out, but also contain those within.

  Intrigued by the sobbing and screaming, she slid open the peep-hatch, and bore witness to the banquet beyond.

  Two dolls strained against their chains. One sought to consume, the other, preserve.

  When the wine began to spill, she found her gaze drawn to weaker. Their restraint was worthy of respect, while it lasted.

  Suddenly, the two dolls weren't the only ones bound. A vice locked around her. Its grip tightened, and tightened.

  Lungs wheezed. Legs kicked. Spine squirmed.

  One by one, her ribs buckled.

  She awoke with a spasm that flung foul fluids from her tooth-lined throat. Deserved pain wracked her entire body. A fitting punishment for her near-defeat. The grim cold had almost devoured her. If not for her twin corruptions, she might not have survived. Ichor oozed through fairy flesh, its invasive touch gradually thawing bone and mending muscle.

  As she lay, her blurred vision could pick out little more than contrasting specks dancing in the air above. Ghostly white drifted slowly and silently, whilst buzzing black zigged and zagged with wasted vigour. She snatched one of the flying flinch-inducers, briefly tolerating its oh-so pathetic struggle.

  Suffer for your frailty, feeble thing.

  She started to squeeze. Slowly. With every slight contraction, the carrion creature crushed just a little more, until its fuzzy chitin began to collapse.

  From the blurred chill came a voice she was all too familiar with. "Good t' see thee finally wake, Li'le Lambkin."

  Li'le Lambkin...

  Oh how she hated that name. The mere suggestion that she was but another pitiful sheep made her want to reach into that maggot-munched maw and force the most explosive of smiles. She alone had endured unadulterated corruption without losing her mind. She hadn't needed to nail her skeleton and brain in place to stop the ichor from tearing her apart, unlike him.

  One day you'll outlive your usefulness, Skaphos, then you'll learn just how sharp this lone wolf's fangs are...

  Toothed fingers and toothed palms rubbed at her toothed face. Cluttered calcium clicked and clacked. "My eyes~" she slurped. "Something's wrong~" Talking was difficult when one's tongue trailed down to one's knees.

  The hulking, swarming shadow loomed. "Thy corneae are desicca'ed. Fros'bitten." Skaphos' every word was laced with delight. A true sadist relishing their chosen delicacy. "Fleetin' penance for failin' t' retrieve thy quarry's keys."

  "Fix it~" she snarled wetly.

  Skaphos sighed. "Very well. Let it not be said I am without mercy."

  Something shifted within the irritating cloud, likely the Candy Cane she'd retrieved on the parasite-riddled pervert's behalf. A dead fairy's essence he'd defiled to help him commune with his fabled 'Mother of Magic'.

  The internal ichor's response was immediate, crawling through her veins as a tide of tiny fingers. Slime swelled within her sockets. Dozens of dark handprints distorted her vision. For a moment she tried to endure, not only to prove her resilience, but deny Skaphos of glee. Yet as the pressure built, and her eyeballs quivered upon the verge of rupturing, she couldn't help but kick and howl.

  Guttural laughter boomed, as if they were in the presence of the realm's cheekiest jester.

  After just a few more seconds of ocular agony, her full vision returned. The fetal fluid coursing through her twisted veins was nightmarish, but effective.

  It seemed they were still in the Enchanted Forest, though winter had laid claim. Skaphos sat upon a frosted trunk, his chuckles fading as he sucked raw meat from small bones. Each he finished was added to a small stack beside him, forming something of a miniature graveyard.

  Beyond him stood the hooded few he'd baptized in his own filtrated blend. A process which granted insight, supposedly. 'The Enlightened', he called them. During the attack on Tuberly they'd been draped in Titania's colours of black, white, and orange, but they'd since donned their usual midnight-hued needle robes.

  As far as she was concerned, the congregation was little more than a pack of leashed lunatics. Tamed psychopaths that'd happily butcher one another, and likely even themselves at a snap of their so-called scholar's fingers. Or was it prophet? She had trouble keeping up with all of Skaphos' deceptions.

  "You lied~" she slurped. "You promised me worthy opponents~ You said Titania's favoured would be strong~"

  Culling the weak was satisfying, but all too unrewarding. Only by tackling tougher opponents, by bettering equals, could one advance. Tragically, the higher one climbed, the fewer such adversaries remained.

  "Bold claims for one who lies in ruin," said Skaphos.

  Cunt. When his time comes I'll trigger his teeth one by one. He'll smile slowly.

  "She lost control~ Any idiot with enough magic can detonate~ There's no victory in self-destruction~"

  "Maybe not for the deceased." Skaphos gurgled amusement. "...'Ast I ever told thee o' the sentence we bestowed upon undesirables durin' The Reckonin'? Those who failed t' master their boons were tied t'gether an' launched from trebuchets. Screamin' bundles o' squandered potential. Most just splat'ered on impact, takin' a paltry dozen lives at best, but every now an' then came somethin' most glorious. Det'nations that scoured bat'lefields an' levelled towns entire." Finishing his tale left him bellowing all the louder.

  No wonder these lands are so warped...

  "I don't care for ancient history, old man~ You deceived me~ You claimed your goddess feared the icy one~"

  "Hush, Li'le Lambkin. 'Twas not the 'er of t'day the Mother o' Magic feared, but the 'er of t'morro'. That sweet, succulent snowflake would've become Queen o' Queens an' united the world against us. She would've barred the 'eavenly gates an' denied the divine... but no longer. Fate is just as mutable as flesh, an' thine actions 'ave changed the course o' things, Lambkin. The Queen o' Queens is dead. The Moonchild was seen t' shine. Those she freed will tell tales o' 'er 'eroism. Victory is within our grasp. Soon, the 'ole world shall be blessed."

  "My patience wears thin~ I did not come here to smother sprouting weeds~ You best pray to your cowardly goddess that one amongst this sisterhood proves worthy, lest I take you apart instead~"

  Skaphos appeared utterly uninterested in the threat. For a moment, his slug-like tongue busied itself by lapping a tiny tibia clean. "...Stay the path, Li'le Lambkin. 'Eed mine guidance, bleed well, an' thou shalt meet thy match soon enough."

  "You talk of my replacement?~" She strained her way up, inspired by the challenge. "The one they call Splishsplash?~"

  "Nay, she wouldst not satisfy thine egregious thirst." Skaphos snapped the final leeched bone asunder. The bluntest of the two shards was added to the pile. The sharper he pressed into his squirming skin until stygian juice spurted. Rusted digits scooped a writhing mixture before smearing a circle around the calcific collection. Finally, his bloodshot eye peered skyward. "But trust well, Li'le Lambkin, mine Li'le Flut'er keeps a devil far worse than 'er..."

  Villainy II

  ( Puddingpuff )

  Puddingpuff lingered by the forest's edge, unseen, until she was certain the hooded stray had gone with Cutiehorn and Bubblebun. She'd promised her departed friends that she'd stay away from Cherrychomp, yet with their untimely demise, she couldn't help feeling responsible, like a puppy had been left upon her doorstep.

  She proceeded down a series of specific snowy trails and took cover behind a specific snowy tree before plucking the locket from her pocket. One click of a latch later and it flipped open to reveal a mirror. The visage that stared back from within was weary. Its eyelids looked just as heavy as they felt, and dark, burdened bags had formed beneath pink eyes.

  If only my complexion could endure as untarnished as my mind...

  It wasn't uncommon for Puddingpuff to skimp on sleep. Not only did the constant nightmares make it a thoroughly unenjoyable experience, but she also had a multitude of plates that required constant spinning. She had a realm's finances to juggle, a utopian illusion to maintain, a future faefire crisis to prevent, and an unsuitable ruler that required both caution and counsel. Now to add to that, a pack of audacious villains had dared to earn her ire.

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  Sleep can wait until I'm done dishing out just deserts.

  Puddingpuff gave one final check for potential observers, before crouching down beside a frozen berry bush. The all-consuming white had made locating the exact area more troublesome than usual. If travelling to said precise shrubbery wasn't such a regular occurrence, she may not have been able to find it at all.

  Beneath the iced thorns lay one of the many satchels Puddingpuff had tucked away throughout the Enchanted Forest. She reached inside and pulled out a simple grey cloak. It was nothing like the fanciful fabrics she usually dressed in, but that was very much by design. Though admittedly, on this occasion, she couldn't help wishing it were a tad warmer.

  She wrapped the cloak tight, making sure even the heels of her boots were well hidden. After pulling up the hood, she returned her attention to the locket and ensured all pink curls were tucked well back before dabbing an ashen lens into each tired eye. One application of cosmetics later, she stepped out from behind the tree and made for the nearest balloon dock.

  True, the palace tower was a far more convenient method of entering Rainbow City, but it lacked discretion. Even if she were to step out in full disguise, she'd likely be followed by curious fans. There was only one way for a Fairy Princess to go undetected by the residents, and that was to hide amongst them.

  With her head low but senses keen, she slipped into the queue.

  Rainbow City was just as initially unpleasant as usual. A dizzying barrage of kaleidoscopic brilliance. Puddingpuff often cursed whatever short-sighted nincompoop thought it a good idea to construct a sky city from highly refractive crystals.

  Before she'd inherited its management, the impoverished citizens had resorted to chipping fragments from their homes for sale at foreign markets. It was with great reluctance that she'd organised the repairs. Ultimately, it was immeasurably easier to re-facet the existing structures than demolish and rebuild with more sensible materials.

  Recently, however, something else had been attracting Puddingpuff's concern. A subtle reduction to the fluidity of foot traffic in certain streets. An unspoken social distancing, accompanied by distrusting glances. It was an unease that most failed to notice, or dismissed entirely, but not Puddingpuff.

  Damn that fool's soft heart...

  Puddingpuff had warned Titania against relocating swathes of survivors up to Rainbow City countless times before. She didn't just fear that Splishsplash might miss some minor sign of contagion, but more so for their already stressed supply chain. Much of the city's food originated from the very villages that were being burned down. Providing essentials was becoming more difficult with every fresh influx. Even the diamond siphons could only condense so many clouds per day.

  There'll be no more vegetables from Tuberly, fish from Mirrorpond nor fruit from Plumpberry... To think, even faced with a potential famine, my metamorphic perk proves pitiful. Transforming wood and paper into cake might fill bellies for a time, but signs of nutritional withering would show within weeks.

  We need to request non-perishables from Obon immediately. The convoys won't have it easy in this weather. They'll demand the extortionate, and we'll have no choice but to pay...

  I refuse to believe any of this mere happenstance.

  Food wasn't the only issue their unseen enemy had pressed upon them. It was a poorly kept secret that many of the forestfolk still clung to forbidden faith, whilst many skysettled looked down on said practices as primitive. That in itself didn't mean that the two groups were incapable of coinciding. Not at all. When Puddingpuff had first brought prosperity back to Rainbow City, people had flocked from all over the queendom to form a crucible of combined cultures. Through respect and acceptance, the flavoursome melting pot had gradually evolved its own united identity greater than the sum of its parts. Forcibly injecting entire established communities, however, tested that solidarity.

  It wasn't as if the forestfolk were to blame. Puddingpuff understood their plight. They'd sacrificed their freedoms in return for royal protection, only to see their homes razed to the ground. It was natural for them to cling to whatever few familiarities remained upon finding themselves in a strange new place. In doing so, however, the most recent waves had not served as additional ingredients to the soup that was Rainbow City, but rather formed distinct side dishes. A difference that could devolve into division under appropriate stress.

  I'm going to have to announce rationing sooner or later... Would it be better to warn the city's peacekeepers in advance? No. Common people have loose lips. It'd only sow further anxiety.

  Puddingpuff had proposed they rebuild the lost forest villages, but Titania had objected, and the reason quite obvious. Each and every person that remained within reach of ichor presented another vulnerability. A tiny cog of acceleration in her decline. Unfortunately, Puddingpuff could only put up so much resistance when she was yet to discover a solution to that particular problem herself.

  Our enemy seems to pay the rune's toll in slaughter... I wonder, just how many our compassionate Queen would be willing to sacrifice for the greater good?

  She stopped to watch a sorrowful-faced group lay tributes beneath her slain sisters' banners.

  It was a shame. Winterwish's merchandise had only just hit the stalls yet was already being used in mourning. For a brief moment, Puddingpuff caught herself pondering whether she should implement a price hike, before quickly disposing of the thought. She was happy to capitalise on most opportunities, but the idea of profiting from her friends' deaths turned her sweetened taste buds sour.

  Perhaps I should have it given away for free?

  She rolled her lips.

  ...No. Let's not go crazy now.

  When she reached the community hub known as Citrine Circle, she discovered a large, mixed crowd had gathered around the mighty amber sculpture of Titania. Some amongst the assembly wept, whilst others just seemed to be seeking comfort, like herding animals. From somewhere deeper within, a speaker could be heard.

  Not wanting to rub shoulders with riffraff, Puddingpuff looked to the surrounding buildings for a suitable balcony, then approached her preferred selection. The front door was unlocked. A reassuring sign that the occupants still felt safe, for now.

  Within, she easily weaved through the resident's inattention. A grey ghost that slipped silently through refracted shadows, leaving neither trace nor tall tales in her wake.

  The balcony provided a clear view of the gathering's focus. People were taking turns to ascend the central platform's steps and share brief eulogistic thoughts beneath the sculpted monarch wings.

  She recognised the two young lads next in line as a pair of brothers who lived close to the Sky Spire. Her recollection placed them in Merrymint's fanbase, yet now only one was draped in a mint leaf, whilst the other had taken up a snowflake standard.

  "I know Princess Merrymint wasn't the most popular," whimpered the leaf-draped brother, "but I think everyone would agree she was the friendliest of all the royals. Whenever she came up here, she'd greet everyone she met with the biggest and brightest of smiles. I think that's something we should all remember."

  A ripple of nods and polyphony of agreement spread through the congregation.

  I wonder, what would people be saying in the event of my demise? Not much, I suspect. They certainly wouldn't cry for me. No. Impulsive idiots would lament the loss of the Tearoom, whilst those of significant perception would be far more concerned with the inevitable decline to come...

  Puddingpuff narrowed her eyes at the sight of the next speaker. Typically, she'd recognise almost every face she passed in Rainbow City, for she made other people's business her business. From every skysettled born to every forestfolk forced to fit, she had files on everyone. Yet, the next up wasn't just familiar, but a young woman she herself had recently reached out to. A survivor of Thornweald who was quick to learn and enough of a looker to be of use.

  What manner of opinions do you have to share, Miss Briar?

  "Princess Winterwish and Princess Merrymint were true heroes..." There was a faint tremble to her voice.

  How peculiar. She's performed for some amongst this crowd before, and most confidently too, yet now hesitates?

  "They fought for what's right. For us," said Briar.

  Concern contaminated curiosity the more the dancer spoke.

  "I met a survivor from Tuberly earlier. One of the lucky few Princess Sunshine saved." She looked around. She took a quivering breath. "They said... They said they attackers wore the Queen's colours."

  Puddingpuff leaned forward, studying the crowd's reaction with bated breath. Most turned to exchange confused glances and anxious mutterings. But not all. No. A select, sparse few nodded, and it was their confirmation that spurred Briar on with accumulating confidence.

  "Now Princess Winterwish and Princess Merrymint are gone, and Princess Sunshine sits in a cell. It's... It's..." Briar closed her eyes and took a slow sip of breath.

  Don't forget who owns your tongue...

  "It's almost as if Queen Titania punishes anyone who defends our faith!"

  Detestable wench! I take you into my employment and you repay me by sowing incitement?

  Puddingpuff squeezed at the folded parasol hidden beneath her cloak as gasps rolled through Citrine Circle like a crashing wave.

  One amongst the crowd shouted. "Keep your blood rituals out of Rainbow City!" A sentiment that resonated and offended in equal measure, causing ripples of resentment.

  If Puddingpuff hadn't been so certain that her own intervention would only fuel the conspiracies, she'd have shrugged off her disguise and leapt down to silence the speaker herself.

  Her stomach cramped as she watched peacekeepers call for a calm.

  Careful now. Don't give these susceptible simpletons any more kindling.

  A pair of peacekeepers, or rather, what appeared to be peacekeepers rushed the platform.

  Who...? You two aren't on the city's payroll!

  They approached Briar not with words, but immediate force, hooking her arms and dragging her from the steps, kicking and screaming.

  "The Moonchild must be freed! The prophecy is at hand!"

  You insolent fuckers!

  The performance put Puddingpuff in an impossible position. Allow the plants to drag Briar away, and word would spread through the Stargazer community like a propagandarous plague. Yet to rush in and reveal the imposters would leave the entire city questioning the authenticity of their authorities.

  Her gut twinged as she scanned the witnesses. For every three that dismissed Briar's hysteria with a shake of their heads, one strained their necks to follow the action, watching wide-eyed as the dancer was hauled down a backstreet.

  I was a fool to allow this cult to linger. Cutting the infection clean will be messy now...

  Puddingpuff was just about to give chase when she spotted two figures slip from a connected alleyway. The false peacekeepers, free of both their thieved uniforms and their supposed captive. With shifty nods, the inept pair parted ways and attempted to melt into the sea of jostling shoulders.

  ...But at least I know where to start.