“What was that?” asked Luke suddenly, his head turning in the direction of the call. Slowly, so as not to knock Luke from his perch in her hands, Caroline stood to her full height, listening. There were no more roars, but she heard more distant screams. It didn’t appear to be coming from the palace, though. It was further off, beyond the front gates, in the village itself.
“I’m not certain, Luke,” she whispered, squinting into the sunlight and trying with all her might to hear. Inside the walls of the palace, she heard yelling. Probably the captain of this squadron of the guards. They were moving out; she heard the clanging of armor and weapons as they filed through the halls. Then, just outside the gate that led to the palace perimeter, she heard even louder clanging as more soldiers filed through. There seemed to be a great deal of them on the move, one hundred, if not more. Whatever was happening, Caroline realized, her father had mobilized the men quickly. This comforted her, but at the same time, the roar had shaken her to the core. Worse still, in her gut, she had the terrible, foreboding feeling of familiarity. She had heard such a sound before, but with much less intensity, passion, and volume. And if it was any indication of what was going on, she didn’t particularly want to see what was happening with her own eyes. Then she looked down at the small man in her hands, looking up at her expectantly, and she knew what she had to do.
“Dearest Caroline, please, listen to me…” said Luke. “I haven’t an idea of what’s going on, but we haven’t much time; please, return me to my balcony, so that I may gather my weapons, and prepare for… OOF,” he began, tripping as he tried to stand in Caroline’s hand. She gasped, but he landed softly back in her palm, using her fingers to right himself.
“What happened? Was it your wounds?” she asked fearfully, cradling him as she lowered her massive, glowing face toward him. “Please tell me you are not hurt, Luke; I could never forgive myself if you were harmed while under my care.”
“I am perfectly all right, Caroline,” he answered straightly, dusting himself off. “I simply tripped on the uneven terrain of my present surroundings. But please, we must make haste; take me back to my balcony, my dearest, I beg you.”
Caroline stared down at him, swallowed hard, then shook her head no. “Luke… you cannot. You are hurt. You would not be able to…”
“Caroline, I simply MUST. It is my DUTY. I must defend the people, and… most of all, you…”
“Luke, you have done so much for me already, I could not possibly ask you to do more without feeling eternally guilty. You must stay here, and await my return…”
“Your RETURN? What do you mean by this?” he answered quickly, becoming more worried with each passing second. “You… you can’t mean you intend to…”
“I was all that stood between my family and their destruction last time, Luke. I have to. I must protect everyone; it happens to be MY duty in this instance, not yours.”
“Caroline…”
“And I must protect you, too… my prince. I could not survive without you…” she answered softly, raising a finger to gently stroke his shoulder. He placed his hand on the soft digit, but kept his eyes locked to hers.
“Caroline… you are a gentle lady, one who strives to help the poor… you found me in the caves, and that was danger enough. How could you expect me to condone you placing yourself in such risks again?”
The princess gulped, finding the next words to be some of the most difficult she had yet spoken to her love. “I do not expect you to condone it, Luke. I simply ask that you forgive me.”
“ForGIVE you? What…” he began, and suddenly realized what was happening. Caroline, still barely balancing the prince in one hand, had reached down along one of the balconies on a lower floor, and plucked a long red banner off that hung regally over the doorframe. Then, bringing it up toward the prince, he pulled back, gripping one of her fingers. Both of them already knew what was about to happen, and as much as it pained each, they knew it was perfectly inevitable. “Caroline, no… you musn’t. I have to HELP!” said Luke uneasily.
Caroline’s eyes welled with tears, her hands quivering with how upset she was becoming. “I am so sorry, Luke. This is… so hard for me, you must understand that. You must. But please… I cannot bear to lose you again, and I don’t intend to.” With that, the hand still holding Luke bean curling inward, and despite the attempt he made to fend off the gigantic fingers, Caroline had him in the gentlest grip she could an instant later, pinning his limbs to his sides. The tears now rolling down her rosy cheeks in full force, Caroline’s heart heavy as she was forced to restrain Luke against his will, she wrapped the red banner around him, tying it in a firm bow. It wasn’t enough to harm him, but it was thick enough that she doubted he could pull it out, or at least for a while. It would buy her some time. Cupping the subdued Luke in her hands, Caroline wept over him, her tears dropping down onto his head and salting his hair as he struggled with his bonds unsuccessfully.
“No… please, Caroline, don’t… don’t do this, you cannot…”
“You have no idea what I feel for you, Luke, and that is why I not only can, but I must,” she sniffled, rubbing her damp eyes quickly on her sleeve. “Be peaceful, and know that I shall return to you,” she said gently, walking Luke over to a fourth floor balcony that she knew would be locked and unused. Placing him with great care on the balcony, she moved back, tying the other end of the banner around the bannister of the balcony with a quick snap of her powerful thumbs. For extra measure, she tied another flap of the banner around the door handles of the balcony to ensure no one could come and get Luke while he was there. As she did, Luke struggled to a crouching position; despite his tied hands, Luke grasped weakly at the humongous, soft thumb that worked quickly to further his bonds. It pained Caroline even more to feel his gentle touch on her hand, but she shook it off, and, with another teardrop, pulled away from him. Then, turning to go, she headed for the low wall that she could step over into the perimeter around the palace, where she might be able to reach the front gates of the palace and, ultimately, the frontlines of whatever was happening outside. She turned tearfully to Luke, waving one last time before wordlessly stepping over the wall. She moved quickly, knowing if she stayed for too long, she might feel too guilty and release him, thusly placing him in great danger.
A minute later, Caroline had found her way to the front gate, which had been closed behind the guards in an effort to keep the palace secure. There was no one left to turn the chains and allow Caroline out through what was the quickest way into the village. But she was not about to let this deter her; squatting down by the gate, Caroline latched her fingers around the grates of the bottom, and utilizing her massive quads, began to lift up. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and she grunted through gritted teeth, but finally the gate began to budge, going up with a rusted groan. Lifting it to an acceptable height, Caroline slipped her legs underneath, sliding under while keeping the gate held up until she was adequately outside. Pulling herself up, Caroline was not at all prepared for what she saw.
The plaza before the palace where the crowds had gathered to hear her address not long ago was deserted, although, strewn on the ground, Caroline was saddened to find half a dozen guard corpses. She dashed past this to the winding road leading on the decline to the village. From here, she could see much of the visible kingdom. And what she saw shocked and terrified her. Smoke rose from dozens of structures. Flames rose from several more, like tiny, flaming beacons of the danger stretching uniformly across the space. Caroline shuddered. What could possibly have done such a thing?
A second later and she was sprinting through the village, in between the tight allies and the narrow streets. She glanced downward fleetingly, looking for any people attempting to flee the danger, but found none, allowing her the freedom to run without the fear of killing anyone. The houses shook with each of Caroline’s enormous footfalls, but not enough to shake them down. As she ran, Caroline saw the corpses of the soldiers and guards that had been sent out to defend the kingdom. Stopping for an instant, she propped one leg up on her bent knee, and looked at the bottom of her foot. It had become stained a rusty mahogany shade with the drying blood of the corpses. Gasping, she tried to rub it off onto the ground, scraping her foot against the dusty brick, but it was no use. Sickened and saddened for all of the lost lives, Caroline continued jogging through the lengthy thoroughfares, hearing the screams continuing all the while.
Stopping again, Caroline listened, trying to collect herself and discover which direction she should be headed in to maximize time. She bent lower to the ground, wondering if this would help at all. The screams became more apparent in one direction. As she turned her head to the left absentmindedly, she found herself face-to-face with a small girl, peeking out of the window of a second story cottage. The girl was sucking her thumb nervously, her eyes locked.
“Hello, little one,” whispered Caroline gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to make all of this right again.” The girl nodded, wordlessly, as the princess stood to full height. Now with a more clear sense of direction, Caroline ran off again, beads of sweat from the heat leaking down her back.
Catching her breath, Caroline looked toward the ground again, trying to listen and examine for any passerby so she could avoid crushing them. And then she heard it again. The organ-ripping roar, screaming through the sounds of human yelps so loudly it almost seemed like the air before had been tranquil and silent. It tore through Caroline’s eardrums, and she had to clutch her palms against her ears to try and remedy the situation. She heard the clanking of metal: swords, armor, shields. She heard the word “retreat” cried out in a terrified voice by what she presumed to be one of the soldiers. And then her heart stopped in her chest as a massive, stone-splitting crash took place, knocking over three houses that stood right next to Caroline in a spray of old brick and grout. She coughed, regaining herself and blinking the dust from her watery eyes. And as the dust settled, the air becoming clearer again, Caroline’s hair stood on end at what stood before her.
“Elizabeth… take the children. Now. Go,” ordered Richard sternly, his younger daughter and son hugging themselves to his sides. “Please.”
Elizabeth nodded knowingly, her face pale and terrified, as she took the hands of her screaming children and began to pull them down from the throne steps. Leaning forward, she stepped up to Richard herself and kissed his battered cheek before darting back down the steps with the children.
“NO! N-N-NO!” moaned Phillip. “We can’t! I can help, really!”
“Where is Caroline? Is she all right?” cried Anne, wiping at her cheeks. “What if she…”
“Please, children, come… NOW!” shouted Elizabeth, not wanting to scare her children but also realizing the direness of the situation.
“Take them to the…” whispered Richard.
“Yes, I know where,” answered Elizabeth quickly.
“You will be safe there. No matter what happens, do not come out until I return for you.” Elizabeth nodded and rushed the children and herself through the back door leading to the servant quarters of the Great Hall. Turning to the guards remaining in the room, the King pointed to the door. “You must defend the kingdom. Please, leave me, join your brethren.”
“But… your Highness…” protested one of the guards. “And leave you here alone?”
“I am capable of taking care of myself, soldiers. I haven’t lost that quite yet,” answered the king solemnly, shifting his robe to reveal a sword sheathed at his waist. The guards nodded.
“V-Very well, sire. We shall return after the beast is slain.”
“May God give you his blessings in your times of need, men. Good luck.” The soldiers bowed and also darted from the room, leaving Richard alone. His hands now beginning to shake slightly, the king took a step forward, moving for the stairs. Just as he did, though, the stained glass windows across from the throne on the other side of the hall were smashed to pieces, a bolt of glowing energy flowing through. It smacked into Richard, electrocuting him and sending him flying backward against his throne. Groggily, he raised his head to find Catherine standing calmly at the bottom of the stairs, smiling.
“Hello again, Richard.”
“Catherine…” growled Richard, beginning to stand up again. However, another bolt struck his hand, forcing him back into the throne as Catherine flicked two of her finger and began striding up the stairs.
“Don’t get up; I wouldn’t want you to be… put out on my account, dearest Richard. You’ll forgive me for not bowing, though. My knees, you see… when one gets older, things seem to just… fade away, don’t they?” she asked, running a hand through her bountiful, fiery red hair, her large hazel eyes glistening with a quiet rage. To anyone else, this would have looked ridiculous, as Catherine looked young enough to pass for thirty, while Richard was pushing his mid-sixties.
“Of COURSE not. Such formalities shouldn’t exist between two very, very old friends,” answered Richard through gritted teeth, his hand sliding slowly for his waist to reach his blade.
“I feel exactly the same way, Richard, exactly.”
“Have you returned to right your wrongs, Catherine?”
“My WRONGS, Richard? Well… yes, in a way, I suppose you might say that.”
“It was you who wrought this terribleness upon the lands, wasn’t it?”
“Well aren’t you just the sharpest king around. Yes, it was me. Are you impressed? Didn’t think it was possible to control it, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. Because it CAN’T be controlled. You’ve simply directed it with a few of your parlor tricks. You don’t know what you’ve unleashed… There is no need for so much destruction when all you really want is me, Catherine.”
“PARLOR tricks? I am disappointed with your short-sightedness, Richard. Surely you remember what I am capable of, even in my weakened form such as now?”
“Perfectly. And that’s why I ensured you will never be able to accomplish it again.”
“Then it seems you know why I’m here already, don’t you?” she asked, squeezing her fingers together. Richard received another painful shock, grunting. “Tell me where the keyhole is, Richard.”
“Y-You…” groaned Richard, his head in a great deal of pain. “You won’t get anything from me. I’ve been tortured far worse than anything you could hope to dream up with your sparks and smoke. And if you KILL me, you’ll never discover anything you want to know, not ever.”
“And that is where you are sorely mistaken, Richard. You see, victory is, at this point, not only within my grasp but inevitable. So I offer you this choice. This final, ultimatum, because of the bond we used to share: I owe it to you to make one last decision.”
“I can hardly contain my excitement.”
“Glad to hear it. Pledge your allegiance to me. Become my subordinate, my servant. And I shall spare you and the rest of that wretched family of yours. Bow before me… and you shall have a life more worthy than you have ever had trying to serve as king of my lands here.”
“I’m afraid I shall have to decline your offer, Catherine,” grinned the king slyly. Catherine cackled. She had been hoping for this.
“Then you choose destiny, Richard,” she said, squeezing her fingers together again, sending another bolt of cracking energy into the king. However, as she did, his hands grasped around the hilt of his sword and he pulled it from his sheath, pulling it into the air. Catherine saw it and sent a bolt of electricity toward Richard, but he held the blade perfectly straight in front of his face, deflecting the bolt directly back at Catherine. She fell backward, rolling down the stairs, and righted herself in shock. “I see…” she muttered, smiling after getting over the initial surprise. Richard clutched the blade confidently.
“Did you really think I would be unprepared for another of your pleasant visits, Catherine? I shall not stoop to your levels and practice the black arts, but I can at least be prepared to defend those I love with a trick of my own. Now it is time for you to hear one of MY ultimatums. Revert my poor daughter to her original form. Then leave this land, never to return, never to threaten my family again. And I shall forgive all of today’s transgressions.” Catherine threw her head back in full-on laughing, hardly able to breath as she wept tears of hilarity, clutching her chest for support.
“You haven’t changed, Richard. You always manage to put me in a good humor. So how about you try another one on me, and show me if those old bones of yours can move as fast as they used to?” she sneered, snapping her wrist and sending another bolt of energy at Richard.
Caroline swallowed dryly, her skin running cold. She could still, of course, hear the screaming and the kindling of flame along the destroyed homes, but for this moment, her vision was focused very squarely upon the monument of might and destruction that stood before her.
The beast was big. Very big. It was the first thing that caught Caroline’s attention. She was as big as a fully grown bear to Caroline. It stood on four legs, like its child, but somehow stood more hunched, lower to the ground; this had little effect on the fact that she was still gargantuan. Its face folded in on itself, leathery and thick, looking like it had received severe burns. The mother beast’s eyes glared a striking shade of blood red, looking glossed over from age; below this were her snakelike nostrils, puffing black steam like a train. A long tongue stretched out and licked the lips that were so wide they seemed to stretch all the way around her head, hiding two rows of razor sharp teeth. A pair of ivory horns like a buck’s curled from the sides of her head, bending downward almost like tusks that had grown from the side of her head. Her hair was even longer than her child’s, being so dark it wasn’t even brown any more, but more of a jet black, looking sticky, as if tar coated every inch of her fur. Some grays were speckled along her fur, showing their age, but were harder to make out amongst the matted mess of dirt, grease, and rock clutched in the ragged coat. Its legs bent back powerfully, having haunches that looked a little too long and thin to be proportionate to its size. Caroline also noted how long each claw once, looking so long they weren’t so much like human fingers as sharp eagle talons, clawing menacingly at the ground.
Caroline had only an instant to examine the vision of horror before the beast was pressing off of the ground, similarly to its child, for a pounce. Being much more experienced, though, the beast knew precisely how to act quickly and efficiently in a hunt, and before Caroline could take a breath, the beast was already planting its claws on her, throwing its full weight upon her. A smoldering house smashed beneath Caroline’s back as the beast pinned her to the ground. Despite the beast’s girth, it wasn’t as heavy as it looked in size. What it lacked in technical mass, though, it made up for in sheer, stringy muscle coating around its arms, rippling even around its neck as it lapped into the air just in front of Caroline’s face. The princess grasped her hands around the legs of the beast, grunting with all her might as she tried to throw the beast from her, but all she could feel were the trembling layers of fat and muscle, as it inspected its hopeful kill like a wild animal. Glistening saliva dripped from the beast’s mouth, sopping Caroline’s cheeks; its long, tendril-like fingers grasped around Caroline, smushing its beaten paw pads against the princess’s cold skin, and gripped tightly. Beads of sweat slipped off of Caroline’s forehead, and she felt great fear enter her heart as the monster’s face neared her own, its jaws fully extending to such a blood-freezing distance that Caroline could see every single tooth inside of its mouth as it approached her face hungrily.
Richard held his sword in the air, a beam of light connected to the tip of the blade as Catherine struggled to overcome the weapon. With a snap of her fingers, though, Catherine’s own strength won out, and Richard’s wrist fell to the side, knocking him over from the blasting power of the spell. He struggled to his feet, wiping a small bloodstain from his forehead, and grimaced, grasping the blade more tightly. Catherine fired another bolt, and Richard easily deflected it. However, he was unprepared for the rapid-fire follow-up, and a volley of three blasts hit him, knocking him off of the throne stand to the marble ground below. He clenched his eyelids, groaning from the pain, as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Catherine sauntered smugly down the steps, walking to the king’s side. She looked down upon him, pulling her head back regally and bouncing her frazzled red hair over her shoulders. She caught her breath before speaking down to the tattered form of the king, who still couldn’t quite stand up.
“Richard, I believe thanks are in order. I had been becoming so… BORED… with ordinary foes, I had quite forgotten what it was like to work up a sweat in the heat of battle. Believe me, I ought to take back most of what I said about your decidedly decrepit age. You seem to be in nearly good form. I hadn’t been expecting you to stay standing for more than two minutes, but look how well you’ve fared: five minutes. I’m afraid I must confess myself… impressed, Richard, and very much so,” she said, false kindness in her voice as she smiled at the king, several cuts still bleeding on his body, his arms lined with bruises. “What do you think?”
“You… will not be able to…”
“Richard, Richard, Richard… you seem to not give me enough credit. When a woman like me wants something, and she wants it badly enough, she tends to get it.”
And then, to Catherine’s shock, Richard began to chuckle, albeit weakly. “You don’t understand even now, Catherine. Your constant brute force approach to any and all problems was what lost you everything before. No matter how many spells you conjure, how many beasts you foolishly call down, how many innocent young girls you attempt to ruin through your cruel tricks… none of it will allow you to regain your former power. No army in the world that might ever exist could hope to do it. And that is why, whatever you decide to do, you will fail.”
“Perhaps, Richard, perhaps…” cooed Catherine, rippling her fingers. A magnetic force echoed from her palm, forcing the blade from Richard’s shaking hand and into her own. “Perhaps it won’t be immediate. But I have grown far too wise in all these years since your grave betrayal to allow anything to stop me. I WILL retake my power, of that you can be well assured. And my only regret? Once I do, I won’t be able to look you in those old, vacant eyes of yours and SMILE!” roared Catherine, gripping the blade. She plunged it downward, sending it right through the stomach of Richard. She spun the handle, cruelly twisting it. The king convulsed for a few painful seconds before passing.