A Swarming Sermon

  ( Bubblebun )

  Bubblebun sprang from one frozen branch to the next within the shrouding canopy. Each swift movement unseen. Every crisp of frost unquestioned. As far as her prey was concerned, she was nothing but a stirring breeze. Her honed fairy body didn't just grant her speed, but incredible control. If she'd wanted, she likely could've flipped and cartwheeled in pursuit and still gone undetected by their lacking human senses, but alas, it was not the time to test her luck.

  The Enchanted Forest was a very big place, but Bubblebun had obtained two useful clues that day. Firstly, the enemy had been using ancient ruins as meeting points. Secondly, at least some of the bastards had been descending from Rainbow City. Knowing that, she'd taken cover by one of the balloon landings, and awaited anyone suspicious. The docks weren't known for high levels of traffic during the night, so the sheer number of arrivals had been enough to raise an eyebrow, let alone the familiar fabric many of them carried beneath their arms.

  Bubblebun had followed the increasing crowds. One by one, they'd all wriggled into midnight robes.

  "...Gotcha."

  Now she stalked them from above, drifting through the treetops. A wraith seeking violent vengeance.

  Time to act.

  She darted above the packs, scanning for an isolated individual. Someone who'd unwittingly strayed from their group, ignorant of the danger they'd invited. Sure, she could easily wipe out an entire team, but there was no point in taking chances when she was finally on the right track.

  Eventually, Bubblebun found someone almost vulnerable enough, they just needed a little help. She raised a hand to her mouth, connected the tip of her thumb and index finger to form a shimmering film, then blew.

  The iridescent orb wobbled for the briefest of moments, before frosty stars blossomed upon its surface. She might not be able to bounce on her bubbles in such cold temperatures, but that didn't mean they were entirely useless.

  She watched the delicate sphere lower until it flirted with the edge of the target's vision. They paused. They turned. They blinked in confusion. The rest of the unaware group moved one pace ahead. Two paces. Three. Bubblebun descended before the fourth. She snatched the neck and wrung.

  Veiled in midnight, she slipped to the back of the bunch.

  Soon enough, the villains assembled at what had once been a colossal, cathedral-like structure. With less than a quarter of its mighty walls remaining, most of its grandeur was now lost, present only in imagination.

  The congregation, however, required no such envisioning. Masses of robed figures squeezed through barely-standing archways and clambered over crumbled divides to glimpse at an icy altar. Atop it waited a large ceremonial dish. A known symbol of forbidden practices.

  Surrounding the focal point were dozens of freaks whose robes were outwardly punctured with hundreds of needles, like a gathering of hedgehog fetishists. Unlike everyone else present, those individuals stood a stride apart rather than rubbing shoulders, for obvious reasons. Then, from within the spiky-draped elite, he rose. A towering beast of a man host to a sickly swarm.

  Is that ugly bastard the one in charge?

  Rusted iron groaned and heavy chains creaked. In contrast to those he dwarfed, his spikes faced inward. Huge nails had been hammered deep, burying their bite in bone.

  Bubblebun clenched her fists.

  If I take him out, would that decapitate this cult, or would I be risking it all to prune a hydra?

  "Faithful," addressed the plated preacher from beside the bowl-bearing altar, his voice booming yet raspy. "It brings great joy t' mine accursed 'eart t' see our numbers swell so." He clanged a fist to his breastplate. "Blessed am I t' receive so many o' ye despite the foul infestation forced upon this form o' mine."

  Whispers flittered through the congregation. Hushed words intended only for those closest, but even flattened beneath the cowl, Bubblebun's hearing was second to none. Most were wondering the exact same thing she was.

  Why the hel have they come all the way in the middle of the night to listen to this flyblown fucker?

  "As I am sure ye 'ave all realised by now, the so-called Queen 'as a penchant for reshapin' the innocent int' the unsightly. I am but another victim o' 'er mutagens. The only difference between me an' the rest o' 'er wretched enforcers, is that I reject 'er will. I refuse t' corrupt an' murder for the sake o' 'er infernal greed. Instead, I cling t' the one thing she cannot pry from mine afflicted fingers..." The bulbous helm tilted back, allowing the singular peephole to peer skyward. "...Faith."

  Bubblebun, frankly, could not give less of a fuck whether he spoke true or not. If he was responsible for the deaths of her sisters, he'd pay with his life.

  "I ask not for ye pity, nor pittance, nor even loyalty. True, the hour o' prophecy cometh. True, the comin' Moonchild shall need brave lib'rators t' stand alongside 'er. But I am no tyrant. No enslaver." Massive mitts reached out, as if embracing the audience. "Each an' every one o' ye deserves t' choose! Fight, flee, or cower, whichever ye decide, I shall not judge. But know this," his hands closed tight, "Stargazer blood will flow, an' not in offerin' t' The Baneful Beyond. No. It is a price the brave must pay if our loved ones, our descendants, are t' know freedom. We did not desire this war, but it is due, an' nigh." A single finger extended. "I ask but one thing of ye. Spread word. Speak that which the tyrant would keep unspoken. Warn ye fellows, so they too may choose."

  The idiots gobbled it up like fairies at feast. Bubblebun caught her tongue between pressed incisors before it could click.

  Do they really think they stand a chance against Titania? Would they even believe me if I told them he's the one responsible for all of the butchery and eruptions?

  From the opposite side of the gathering, a voice called out. "Forgive me, Prophet, but I require your attention!"

  "Do not apologise, friend," responded the parasitic priest. "I am ever eager t' learn. Speak bold an' make thy truth known."

  Cloaked bodies parted, making way for the vocal. They seemed to be dragging something towards the altar. Something kicking and struggling and screaming. Something that made Bubblebun's whole body tense as if she was hewn from the same stone as the surrounding ruins. It was a child, and not just any child, but one who should be sound asleep high above in the Rainbow City Orphanage.

  Mordy? What the fuck is he doing here?

  "We found this boy snooping around," said the captor. "He claims he is on his way to become a Fairy Prince!"

  Boos droned and expletives rang out. A few at first, yet they spread like wildfire, as if their madness was contagious.

  Bubblebun flinched as a figure beside her suddenly pulled an iron dagger from their robe and brandished it high. She took a deep breath and considered unleashing a mass ass-whooping.

  To her surprise, it was the orator who called for quiet.

  "Faithful, please! Let us not debase ourselves with intolerance, as would the cruel tyrant. This young'un is simply mistaken. 'E knows not the error o' 'is ways." He beckoned Mordy up to the altar. "Do not fear me nor mine flies, child. We wish thee no 'arm."

  Cold air shuddered through Bubblebun's tightened lips as she tried to remain calm.

  "Tell us, child. Why wouldst thou subject thyself t' the tyrant's defilement? She would 'ave thee warped int' a weapon most wicked. An instrument o' subjugation."

  All eyes turned to the boy with the unicorn cape. Bubblebun subtly dipped at the knees. Muscles coiled tight.

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  Tell them what they want to hear. Don't say anything dumb.

  "You're all knob-heads!" declared Mordy. "The royals protect us! They fight for us! They die for us! And you're all ruining everything!"

  As reckless as the boy's words were, they brought a smile to Bubblebun's shrouded face.

  Damn idiot...

  The gathering roared. More and more iron blades appeared from beneath cloaks. The more fervent the extreme became, the more the previously reasonable were willing to abide. Far too few shook their heads in disbelief, and even fewer turned to leave. Those who did depart were followed by one of the watchful needle-robed. It seemed there were to be no loose ends.

  "Faithful!" boomed the prophet. "Ye are right t' be angry, but we cannot allow ourselves t' sink t' the tyrant's level. We must be better! Fair, just an' righteous! Let us grant the wayward a chance t' see true!" He ripped Mordy's cape off and laid it upon the altar beside the offering bowl.

  "Give it back!" cried Mordy. "That was a gift!"

  The prophet took up a fiery torch and offered it. "Lib'rate thyself, child. Burn this symbol o' oppression. Reject the tyrant, an' be free."

  "I don't understand..." Mordy gingerly accepted the torch. As brave as he was trying to be, fear pooled in his eyes, reflecting the flames. "But I know right and I know wrong, and I will never turn my back on true heroes!" He threw the fire aside, letting it extinguish amongst the snow.

  A smirk spread across the maggoty maw. Even the flies seemed to buzz and swirl with increased frenzy. "There is no 'ope for this one. 'E will wander forever lost. The kindest thing t' impart... is mercy."

  Two of the needle-robed struggled forth, took to their knees and strained to raise a humongous hammer, its head a mess of sharp spines.

  You've gotta be kidding me!

  Bubblebun looked around. Surely, this would be too far. Yet ridiculous claim had built upon ridiculous claim, forming a fictitious foundation the sheep failed to see through.

  Shit. I'm sorry, Cutiehorn. I can't just let this happen. It's time to do what I do best!

  Bubblebun burst forth, darting through the crowd like lightning seeking a steeple. She shrugged the robe from her shoulders, tore it in two, and bundled the scraps around her hands. A flick of feet launched her high, sight set not on Mordy, nor the prophet, but for the hideous iron instrument being presented.

  She touched down, ballet slippers gliding across iced cobbles. Midnight-wrapped palms snatched the spiked hammer. She spun, her whole body fuelling a force that she delivered to the prophet's helm.

  The cluttered cluster smashed into partially-protected face. Most spines shattered upon impact, yet a few slipped through the crevices to shred flesh. Stygian juice spurted, showering those huddled closest to the altar.

  Bubblebun turned to tackle the crowd, but something was wrong. Those at the front weren't rushing to challenge her. They weren't even looking at her. They were too busy screaming.

  Bodies jerked and twisted. Skin split and tendons tore. Limbs rotated and divided. Scything bones exploded outward and flesh ballooned until it ruptured to spill swelling organs.

  Oh shit! This fucker bleeds ichor!

  Dozens mutated. Those who'd yet to fall to the corruption clawed and clambered over one another in desperate attempts to escape. The congregation became a roiling ocean of chaos, and the cathedral a coliseum of carnage.

  Worse yet, the prophet still stood. "Flee, faithful!" he spat. "The tyrant sends 'er executioners! Survive, an' tell o' what transpired 'ere!"

  Bubblebun squeezed the destroyed hammer's handle. The nest of needles that had served as its head might've been smashed to smithereens, but it remained nothing if not a sharp stick.

  She jumped, braving the buzzing swarm once more. "Shut your damn mouth!"

  The rusted armour presented one glaring vulnerability. The very corroded hole from which his vile tongue squirmed.

  Bubblebun plunged the makeshift spear down his throat, impaling him like a hog ready for roast. A resemblance she reinforced by tossing the makeshift gloves aside and pulling a vial of faefire free of her ribbons.

  Violent violet plumed, enveloping the prophet. He stumbled. Fried flies fell from the air, whilst flame-wreathed gauntlets swiped desperately, finding no purchase.

  Finally, the giant collapsed backward with a mighty metallic crash. Yet victory would be short lived.

  "Princess Bubblebun!" cried Mordy.

  She turned to see the orphan boy cowering beneath one of the dagger-wielding madmen. With rapid rotation, she grabbed the ceremonial dish from the altar and sent it spinning forth. The domed discus sliced through flesh and bone before burying itself in the ruined wall with a reverberating clang.

  Bubblebun snatched Mordy up in her arms before the divided deviant's upper half had even hit the ground. "We're getting out of here!"

  "What about the others?" Mordy clung to her as they slipped into the night. "People are dying!"

  "Dammit, kid. I can't save everyone!" Whilst Bubblebun didn't voice it, another, darker thought crossed her mind.

  Besides, survivors are only going to cause problems right now...

  Beneath skeletal canopies and across moonlit snow she raced, trying to ignore the rising sound of a lone pursuer. She didn't need to look back in order to identify what it was that followed with such aggression. Only a fairy, and an especially swift one at that, could match her pace.

  "There's something chasing us!" cried Mordy.

  Bubblebun took to the frosted branches, springing with all the speed she could muster until the cold roared around them. "No shit. I'm trying, ok?"

  A hysterical blend of slurped laughter was growing louder. The predator wasn't just following, but gaining on them.

  Terror dawned on the orphan's face. "...Can't you beat it?"

  Bubblebun dared a glance amidst an airborne twirl to avoid any loss of momentum. The nightmarish thing pounced through trees and swung from branches with a long, tooth-studded tongue. It may have been royalty once, but now strands of external saliva spattered in its wake. There was no doubt in her mind.

  That's gotta be the bitch that took out Merrymint and Winterwish... No wonder they couldn't handle her. Those freaky movements are far too fast.

  A thrash of flip-flopping limbs launched a scattershot of teeth. A split second later, tree-felling, ice-shattering explosions rang out. Thunderous resonance shook the air and struck Bubblebun's sensitive ears. The world spun. It was all she could do to make sure she landed on her back to protect the boy in her arms.

  The crash and subsequent skidding caused snow to bloom into crystalline clouds.

  Shit. Bad match up. This weather and those explosions are both problems. There's no clean getaway here.

  Bubblebun released Mordy and struggled to her dizzy feet. Thankfully, the frosty swirls would obscure them for a few seconds further. "Kid... you think you can make it to Dewroot alone?"

  Mordy looked up at her, worry bleeding from his eyes. "You... You're going to win, right?"

  She forced a smile, barely able to hear the boy's words over the painful ringing. "Hel, this'll be easy. I just don't want your brittle body getting in my way."

  The boy's expression hardened with determination. "I can do it! I can make it to Dewroot! I'll launch a flare the second I arrive!"

  "Don't stop for anyone," said Bubblebun. "Trust only those from the palace. Now go!"

  Mordy had always been a troublesome kid. Bubblebun had lost count of the times he'd sneaked out to explore the Enchanted Forest or steal snacks from Candy Town. Yet when it really mattered, he did as he was told.

  That's a good boy. Look after yourself, and the others at the orphanage.

  Bubblebun turned to face the dark and readied her stance. Fingers curled to form fists, one slightly larger than the other. Concealed within was her second vial of faefire. She'd wait until the enemy princess tried to outrange one of her punches, then release. With a little luck, the enemy wouldn't see it coming. Not until the glass ruptured in her face.

  A slinking shadow lurked through the dissipating mist. Joints squelched. Calcium chittered and chattered. "Such lovely teeth you have~"

  Bubblebun tightened her fist, subtly cracking the hidden vial within. "Shut up and bring it, bitch."