Interlude - VI

  ( Cecilia )

  Cecilia's eyes stung. Every blink tested the surrounding flesh, its creases raw from the sheer volume of tears shed. Her throat felt as if it was cracked each time she swallowed. She must've apologised to Mama a hundred times that afternoon.

  "It's ok. I'm proud of you," Mama had said, again and again. She'd even smiled, despite Cecilia having thrown away their one chance at happiness.

  She wondered how much longer they'd be allowed to stay in the borrowed tent, and whether Mero would awaken before then. She'd been out cold since the final trial. A trial Cecilia had failed.

  ...I guess I should be thankful we survived. Not everyone was so lucky...

  The spectators and locals had held a service for Roselina. Her death was a great tragedy, apparently.

  'Her confidence, bravery, and tenacity will surely be remembered by all those who were fortunate enough to cross paths with her,' Candy Dandy had said.

  In truth, few had been fond of the bloom-laden noble. It was only after her demise that everyone idolised her, as if death had absolved her of every rude comment and bratty action.

  Despite their differences, there had been things Cecilia had admired about Roselina. For one, without Mero's intervention, she would've undoubtedly been victorious. If her tales of dedication were true, then she likely would've been the best choice for a future Fairy Princess. Yet now the world would carry on without her. Uncaring. As if she'd never been at all.

  It seems so cruel...

  Cecilia looked to Mama and sighed. She was sleeping. Her weakened lungs barely able to fuel her body. Just getting to the Flossmeadows had taken almost all they'd had. A part of Cecilia, a dark part she didn't want to acknowledge, couldn't help but question if Mama would even make it back.

  I really messed up. We would have had more time together if we'd just stayed at home...

  Mero spasmed and spluttered awake.

  "Mero!" Cecilia rushed to her side. "I'm here. Mama too. It's over. You're safe."

  Mero's scarred hand grabbed Cecilia's arm with surprising strength. Scrawny fingers dug into flesh just like they had done during the climb. "You won?"

  Cecilia tried to stop the wet blur from overwhelming her vision.

  "You won, right?" Mero squeaked a second time. "Tell me you won."

  The word was stuck in Cecilia's throat. She struggled to pry it free. "...No."

  Mero stopped. Mero stared. Mero's head lowered back down to the pillow.

  "...W-would you like to come back to Tuberly with us?" asked Cecilia. "You can stay with me and Mama, if you like..."

  But Mero offered no response. She just gazed, vacant and unblinking, as if staring at a starry sky. If not for the subtle rising and falling of her chest, Cecilia might've thought her dead.

  "...I'm sorry, Mero. I'm really, really -"

  "Do not apologise. You had our future in your hands and you threw it all away, so don't you dare apologise. Words... words can't fix everything."

  Cecilia gritted her teeth. Her first instinct was to apologise again, but if sorry only served to upset further, then what else could she do? "I really am," she whimpered. "I'm so, so, so..." She couldn't bring herself to repeat the evil word.

  From outside, the sound of rustling grew louder. Cecilia wiped fresh tears upon her sleeve and took a deep breath. She prepared to beg whoever was approaching to allow them to stay just a little longer.

  A light tapping quivered the entry flaps of the tent. "Hoho. It is I, Candy Dandy. May I enter?"

  Cecilia shuffled over to Mama and gave her shoulder a gentle shake, just enough to wake her. "Of course, Mister Candy Dandy. Please come right in."

  The gingerbread gent wiggled his way through, his limbs as stiff as ever.

  Cecilia bowed in the deepest respect. "Please understand, sir, we do not mean to impede, but my sister and Mama aren't well enough to travel."

  With a wave of his cane, Candy Dandy summoned a gummy stool for him to sit upon. "Hoho. All is well. They've both given much for their family. As have you, Miss Cecilia."

  She lowered her head even further, as if crushing weights had been added to her neck. "No... I failed them, sir. I failed Queen Titania too. Victory was within my grasp, and yet -"

  "And yet you chose your sister's safety," said Candy Dandy. "Hoho, fairy eyes are much keener than my own, you see. The princesses were watching carefully, and while they were unable to save Lady Roselina, they believe your motivations were pure."

  Mero seemed to break from her waking slumber, and shuffled to a seated position. "Roselina?"

  Candy Dandy's iced features flinched. It seemed he was not aware that she was yet to be told.

  Cecilia, however, knew better than anyone that Mero need not be coddled. "She's dead."

  Mero's spheres remained as watery as ever. To others, she may have appeared saddened by the news. Cecilia, however, recognised no regret whatsoever.

  "Tragic indeed..." muttered Candy Dandy. "...But, you did what you had to for your family, is that not correct? Your mother has been unwell since you first arrived. You believe if you are to become Fairy Princesses, Queen Titania may be able to help her. That is what drives you both, no?"

  Cecilia swallowed hard. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear the answer to her next question. "Would she? If I'd won, is there anything that could've been done?"

  Candy Dandy let out a declining, ponderous hum. "...Allow me to preface this by stating that I simply do not know. It is true that Queen Titania has access to every medication in the queendoms, but not all ailment are so easily cured. I am no professional myself, either. That said... Princess Pearlypop informed Queen Titania of your deeds today. Our monarch values familial loyalty above all else. That is why I am here. To invite all three of you to the Royal Palace so that you may meet with the Radiant Queen."

  "Us?" asked Mama weakly. "At the Royal Palace? To meet with Queen Titania herself?"

  "Hoho, indeed." Candy Dandy rose to his stubby feet, as if he'd said all that was required.

  Cecilia was torn. She'd already put Mama through so much. To force another journey on her, only to be met with disappointment again would be cruel, yet at this stage, what other choice did they have? Was this not what they'd been fighting for? "Mister Candy Dandy, sir. We have no means of travel. It's not that -"

  "Nonsense," interrupted Candy Dandy. "A carriage awaits you. It is ready to depart when you are."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Cecilia fought to restrain the excitement that threatened to flutter through her chest.

  Don't get your hopes up. Don't get anyone else's hopes up, either.

  If nothing else, it was nice to see Mama smile again, albeit weakly.

  Mero, on the other hand, was tense with anticipation. Tight fistfuls of bed sheet shook. "Candy Dandy... what is the purpose of this meeting?"

  "Is that not obvious? Queen Titania wishes for you both to join the royal family. Miss Mero. Miss Cecilia. You are to be Fairy Princesses."

  Enlightenment

  ( Briar )

  Thornweald's elder had told them all not to heed the rumours, and they'd been foolish enough to trust him, at the time.

  It had been bright and dry that afternoon, with a slight breeze that softened the sun's bite. The perfect weather for brambling. Briar had managed to avoid every single prickle whilst harvesting almost two full buckets of berries. She and her friends had barely noticed the hours fly by as they plucked away, passing whispers of local bachelors.

  When they'd spotted movement between distant trees, they'd paid it little heed. The figures were robed in Titania's colours, after all. Back then, they'd believed her to be a benevolent ruler, and so they'd shrugged the sight off and carried on picking without a care. That mistake still haunted her.

  The tyrant's butchers stormed the village that evening, hacking at any who tried to reach the village's flares. Briar had thought things couldn't get any worse as she cowered in the sharp thicket, watching as her fellows were cleaved into chunks, but she'd been wrong.

  When the eruption spouted, the attackers hauled men, women, children, and even pets from homes to throw them into the sobbing soup. The things that crawled back out were twisted and pained beyond imagining.

  Briar had thought all hope lost. She'd accepted the gruesome fate that awaited her. But then the hooded killers suddenly ceased, as if their appetite for murder had been sated. They launched the flare themselves, signalling to their tyrant that the job was done before slipping away.

  That was when Briar realised. Titania had never intended to wipe them out. She'd just wanted to send a message. Those of Thornweald had refused to migrate to her prismatic prison one too many times. They'd allowed Stargazers to practice in their midst unchallenged. They'd defied the tyrant's absolute will, and had to pay the price.

  No one objected when the tyrant's executioner, Splishsplash, arrived to escort them from the burning ruins shortly after.

  Briar hadn't Stargazed back then. It was only afterward that she converted. She figured, if offerings could hold The Baneful Beyond at bay, then perhaps they could help stave off the tyrant too. Maybe she was naive, or maybe just desperate, but either way, the routine helped to restructure her life after all else was lost.

  When Puddingpuff first approached, offering freedom of faith under her roof, Briar had thought her an ally. That was until her kin-in-worship whispered otherwise. She wasn't stupid enough to ignore the rumoured prophet's warnings twice.

  That was how she'd come to attend his sermons. A hideous, nausea-inducing giant of rusted armour and riddled flesh. Just a few weeks ago, the idea of siding with such a thing would've seemed utterly crazy, but much had changed since then.

  He'd promised her protection. He'd promised her the truth. She just had to do him a small favour. Spread word.

  Now, shivering within her midnight robe, Briar stood ready to receive her needles

  Crisp snow carpeted the ground. Every breath released a swirl of crystals. High above, the stars twinkled, their gentle light obscured only by the black claws of leafless trees.

  Two rows of Enlightened lined her approach, their spiked veilings glinting beneath astral illumination. They'd already received insight. Soon, she would too.

  No more of the tyrant's lies...

  Ahead, obscured by swirling flies, stood the prophet. His sheer size made all others in attendance appear like mere children. By his side, draped over a frosted trunk, was her pierced robe-to-be, ready and waiting to mark her as one of his chosen. But it wouldn't be easy. The swarm stirred sickness even from twenty paces, and each step only tested Briar's gut further.

  At twelve she had to remind herself that the foul form before her was not of the prophet's own choosing, but a curse placed upon him by the tyrant.

  At six she took one final gulp of cold, hoping to prevent the accidental inhalation of bloated buzzers.

  At three she faltered. Flies had taken to her flesh. They scurried up her sleeves, twitched upon her tightened lips, and fizzed within the basins of her ears. She snorted out what little air remained within her lungs to keep them from tunnelling up her nostrils.

  Ancient plates groaned and flaking chains creaked as the prophet raised his arms. "Come closer, brave lib'rator. Thou art but two steps from revelation. Allow not nausea t' dissuade thee from thy 'ard-earned reward."

  Briar struggled to keep her eyes open even a fraction as erratic twitchers disturbed her lashes. She looked to the flanking Enlightened. Learning the truth had only strengthened their dedication to the prophet. Surely that meant she was on the right path. If only she could glimpse beneath their shrouding hoods, perhaps she could glean a reassuring expression or two...

  In silent insistence, the Enlightened raised their arms. Every pallid index finger was aimed towards the prophet.

  "Closer," he repeated.

  Briar forced a foot forward. One crunch. Two crunch. She craned her head upward to see a single bloodshot eye and an infested smile towering above.

  I am doing the right thing. I am doing the right thing. I am... I am doing what must be done, to help the Moonchild, and to free all forestfolk!

  Two of the needle-robed stepped forth to place hands upon her shoulders. At first she thought they wanted her to kneel, but the moment her legs bent they hauled her back up. It seemed they were only present to support her, firmly.

  Another approached the prophet himself and lifted a large, ceremonial dish aloft, not unlike those Stargazers used to make their nocturnal offerings, but the size of a banquet bowl.

  "Thou 'ast performed admirably, brave lib'rator. Thou 'ast voiced reason t' those imprisoned above. Thine actions 'ave furthered fate, an' served t' free thy fellows o' the tyrant's lies. Enlightenment is rightfully thine. Tell me, art thou ready t' receive insight?"

  Briar's body burned in its desperation for oxygen, but she still wasn't ready for carrion to land upon her tongue, so she simply nodded.

  The prophet's grin spread so wide that maggots rained from the gaps in his teeth. "Then behold, mine cream o' freedom!" He turned to the great ceremonial vessel and began to vomit lumpy, gastric slop.

  Briar's limbs recoiled and vision darkened. In that moment of panic, it almost felt as if she were falling out of her own body. She didn't know exactly what purpose the prophet's puke served, only that she no longer wanted any part in it.

  This isn't right! None of this is right! I have to get out of here!

  She tried to run, tried to pull away, but the two Enlightened at her side kept her in place, their grips like twin vices. "My prophet!" she gasped, sucking in a mouthful of flies. "I don't need insight! Not yet! I can still serve! I can still spread word! My work isn't done!" Every word was accompanied by a spit of foul, fidgeting fuzz. "My work isn't done!"

  Briar's hood was pulled back and hair yanked, forcing her to face skyward. The prophet accepted the overflowing dish. It loomed over her like an eclipsing void, spilling steamy spew. Hot, writhing ferment splattered down her outer arm, drenching and burrowing into the midnight robe.

  "Prophet, please!" she screamed. "I changed my mind! Let me go! Let me go!"

  Yet neither the prophet nor his Enlightened heeded her cries. Digging fingers pried open her jaw and kept it wide.

  "Drink deep, brave lib'rator, an' witness the truth o' things..."

  No, no, no, no, no!

  The prophet began to pour.

  Briar tried to resist, gagging and gurgling for as long as she could, but eventually, the squirming seeped down her choking throat. Beneath the shower of slimy bile, her face ruptured with ocular blisters. An outbreak of eyes split her skin and divided her vision a hundred times over.

  The first thing her new compound vision detected wasn't the prophet, nor his hot torrent, but something deep in distant dark. Something beyond all hope and reason. Something that could not be denied.