Buried in the graves of the forgotten
Tangled in the vines of this woven dream
Once I thought I heard your name through the grapevines
And I found the secrets you laid to rest.

Oh, my love
When we’re entwined together, you better
Reap what you sow and know what you harvest.

I’m the one whose eyes are kissed by the sun
Reach out for me and take my hand
Trust not the ground under your feet
For it will take you away, quick as a breath,
And lead you into another eternal rest.

Oh, my dear
When we’re entwined together, you better
Reap what you sow and know what you harvest.

The hands of fate would keep us apart
But we never have to let go if we keep climbing
Tied to the sun and moon, freefalling in the sky
Take a look at this ring of life
If you put a finger to my lips, I promise I’ll never lie.

Oh, my child
When we’re entwined together, you better
Reap what you sow and know what you harvest.

Dream by day, fly by night,
Follow the silence and it will be all right.
If you listen to the grapevines,
Don’t forget to close your ears
And remember my mistake
Only the dead can outrun their fears.

Oh, oh, oh…
Quando ci uniamo insieme, dovreste
Raccolga che cosa seminate e conosca che cosa raccogliete…
 
 
– A family poem, passed down by the House of Sienna

-------------------------
          
 
“What did she mean by 'Listen to the words of the song'...?” Olivia mumbled to herself. She stood in the courtyard, leaning against the old garden trellis and reciting the poem her grandmother had taught her over and over. The lyrics were comforting—and certainly a welcome reprieve from the terrible nightmares she had become accustomed to—but the actual words had no meaning.

“Buried in the graves of the forgotten, tangled in the vines of the woven dream,” she repeated once more. “Once I heard your name through the grapevines, and I found the secrets you laid to rest.” She looked around. There was an eerie silence out here. Although it seemed like a lifetime ago, she remembered standing here before, when the vineyards were bustling with the activity of men. They used to work here, harvesting the grapes that made that delicious Haledonian wine. Now, the vineyards were empty, and the once lush vines were stained brown and slightly withered as they wafted in the cool evening breeze. Was winter coming early this year?

Olivia shook her head. She had to focus. Her mind and senses were clear, but she was still delirious. She could barely stand. Begrudgingly, she pushed herself away from the trellis, faced the garden, and tried to remember the next verse.

“I can't believe it,” came a loud and sudden voice that caused Olivia to jump.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Vlanis, the ugly, scar-faced warden, shuffling down the garden steps two at a time. She had the look in her face of a cat who had just cornered a flightless bird.

“There are only two reasons you'd still be here,” the warden said when she reached the bottom step. “Either you're too weak to walk...or you're crazy.” She moved closer to Olivia and cackled when the former countess took a feeble step backwards, only to stumble into the trellis and nearly fall over. “I have my money on both.”

“Get away from me...” Olivia whispered weakly.

“What's that?” Vlanis took another step closer and put a hand over her ear. “Did you just give me an order? You must have been living underground, little girl, because I don't take orders from you anymore.”

Olivia tried to speak again, but her mouth was dry. She hadn't had anything to drink since...that last cup of tea...

“...You should've fled the city while you had the chance,” the warden said. “What did you think? That your mommy was going to take you back into her open arms?”

Open arms. Olivia turned back towards the garden and, squinting in the setting sun, she could see five statues. These were statues of her ancestors—each a honored member of the Sienna family and each facing a different direction with a distinct pose. Some of them had arms at the side and some of them had arms pointing in one direction. They had been standing there all along, so quietly, so unobtrusively, for all these years... Could there be something more to them?

The next verse suddenly made sense. I'm the one whose eyes are kissed by the sun... Reach out for me and take my hand...

No statue was facing the sun now, but only one of them was looking in the opposite direction—towards Olivia, towards where the sun would rise. The statue featured a woman in the kneeling position, with an outstretched palm and a hand over her brow, gazing up into the heavens. The old stone was weathered and chipped in places, but Olivia recognized the woman as her great-great grandmother.

“It's not polite to turn your back on someone when they're talking to you,” Vlanis bellowed. She reached out an arm for Olivia, but Olivia quickly ducked away.

“You're not taking me back to that cell, Vlanis.”

“Take you back?” Vlanis laughed and her round belly rumbled and shook like a bowl of pudding. “Your mother doesn't want you in that cell. She wants you dead.”

“...You're lying.”

“I would not lie to you. The order to end your life came directly from her lips.”
 
Olivia moved back, towards the statues in the garden.

“My mother is a terrible person,” she said. “But she is no murderer. She's the only reason you kept me alive.”
 
“I kept you alive because I wanted to see you suffer,” Vlanis said, matching Olivia step in step. “If not for you, I would be servicing the queen now. Instead, I'm stuck in this shithole town, forced to be your babysitter. That ends today. I've enjoyed every minute of pain in your life, but I am honored to be the one to finally end it. Your mother deserves so much better.”

Olivia knew she was close to the statue when the last rays of sun disappeared from her neck and a shadow was cast over her body.

“My mother will get what she deserves in due time. And so will you, Vlanis. I will not be taken in.”

Olivia reached out and squeezed the statue's hand. But try as she might, no amount of pushing or pulling or twisting or turning would cause the statue to move. It remained there, stiff as a rock, staring up at the sky with that same blank expression. Her heart sank.

Vlanis noticed Olivia's hand on the statue and summoned up another bellow of laughter.

“Your ancestors can't save you, little bird,” the warden said, sticking a fist into Olivia's gut. “They're dead, and so are you.”

Olivia crumbled to one knee, just like the statue, and put a hand over her face to shield from Vlanis' next attack. But this one came from below, as Vlanis lifted her leg and threw her knee into Olivia's chin.

Olivia's head buckled back and smashed into the stone base of the statue. Bleeding out one ear, she crawled towards the back of the statue while Vlanis planted another heel into her spine and threw her to the ground.

“I think I'll start with your eyes,” the warden said, drawing her blade. “I'll give you a nice little scar to match the one you gave me.”

By the time she had finished speaking, Olivia had circled around the statue. Vlanis smirked and followed the trail of blood—very slowly, so that she could savor the moment—all the way back to the front of the statue, where Olivia was pulling herself by the statue's outstretched hand.

“She's made of stone,” Vlanis said. “For the last time, she's not going to help you.”

The warden reared back her hand and slapped Olivia across the face, but not before Olivia could grab onto the statue's other arm. As she fell, so did the arm, and a low rumbling could be heard.

This time, it wasn't from Vlanis' belly.

“What the...!?” Vlanis exclaimed as the statue moved to the side, revealing a passageway underneath. An old, rickety set of stairs led down into total darkness. “How did you...?”

She never got the chance to finish her sentence. Olivia grabbed her by the ankles and sank her teeth into the soft flesh of the warden's leg.

Vlanis yelped. “You bitch!”

She tried to retaliate, but Olivia had already managed to slip into the narrow passageway. Her feet were the only thing still visible. Vlanis dove into the opening headfirst and grab them, but her belly was too big to fit through. Grunting, she wriggled and squirmed, but it was only after she was able to suck in her gut that she could squeeze through. Even then, she had to crawl down the steps on her chubby hands and knees, as the walls never allowed someone of her girth to move much.

Already at the bottom of the stairs, Olivia stood up, weakly, and stared into the empty darkness. It frightened her to be back underground like this. Even though there were no torches to guide the way down here, she could see those steel bars again. Those suffocating walls. Those nightmares. Those horrible monsters in the shadows.

“I'm going to kill you...” Vlanis panted. “I'm so going to kill you...”

Olivia closed her eyes—for leaving them open was of no use down here—and mouthed the next words of the poem. Trust not the ground under your feet... For it will take you away, quick as a breath... And lead you into another eternal rest.

The ground creaked and her eyes shot open. She quickly withdrew her foot.

Listening closely, she could hear the sound of rushing water—seemingly miles below her. If the ground creaked, she was likely standing on some kind of wooden bridge, and one wrong step could send her plummeting to her death.

Behind her, Vlanis' groans were getting louder. It was only a matter of time before she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Olivia stretched out her arms. The walls were so close together that her elbows easily grazed the rocks on either side at the same time. There was no way she would be able to slip past Vlanis.

She would have to go forward.

Holding her breath, she raised her right leg and slid her foot forward, very slowly applying pressure to the floor below. With each ounce of increasing pressure, the floor began to creak more and more. Before the full weight of her leg had been applied, a loud snap was heard and the floor beneath her foot vanished. She quickly retracted her leg, but that only caused the floor beneath her left foot to moan and creak and begin to give way. Still holding her breath, she stood there in the darkness, one leg frozen in the air, clutching desperately to the rocks on the wall.

Turning around now wasn't even an option because a single pivot of her foot would cause the ground to open up beneath her.

“Oh, Olivia—come out and play,” Vlanis' voice boomed, echoing through the cavern's walls.

Olivia finally exhaled. Even her slow breaths caused the floorboards to quiver. She could actually feel the cracks beginning to form, like stepping across thin ice in the wintertime.

“...Don't come any closer...” she whispered, loud enough for Vlanis to hear her but not loud enough to cause the floor to break away. She hoped.

The sound of Vlanis' thundering footsteps suggested she had no intention of heeding Olivia's warning.

“I don't know how you knew about this place, but it doesn't matter. You will die here.”

“We'll both die here if you take another step forward.”
“Oh? And why is that?”

As if to answer her, the sound of splintering wood filled the cavern, followed by a piercing scream, and the entire bridge collapsed. It fell as one unit, being shredded apart by the jagged rocks on the side, until it was so twisted and jumbled that pieces of wood began to rain into the wild torrent below.

High above all of this, Olivia had managed to wedge her ankles into the rocks and hung there,  suspended between the walls on outstretched arms and legs, listening to the water and rocks rip apart the floor that was once beneath her feet. When she was done gasping for air, she leaned forward and began to blindly feel her way from handhold to handhold in the darkness. Her arms were shaky, but the rocks were rigid and dry, and there were enough open spaces that she could simply stop and remain in suspension while the vertigo passed.

She tried not to think what would happen to her body if she let go.

Ten, twenty, maybe thirty minutes later, she had reached solid ground again. She stepped on it warily, though, and was a little startled when it actually felt firm. She threw herself upon it and laid there for a while, listening to the sound of the river beneath the earth roar.

“Good-bye, Vlanis...” she whispered, and leaned her head against the rocks.

The rest of the poem. She had to recite it from the beginning, but she knew it all by heart. When she reached the next part, she breathed a sigh of relief. The hands of fate would keep us apart... But we never have to let go if we keep climbing.

Climbing. That would be easy.

Sure enough, after walking forward for a bit, she came across another set of stairs. It was still pitch black, she was able to climb them on her hands and knees without incident. When she reached the top, she felt around with her hand and was able to locate a handle, which she used to hoist the large stone over her head out of the way.

It was nighttime on the surface world, but the moon provided enough light to see. Clutching her side—which now pained her—she reached up and pulled herself out of the hole in the ground. She didn't know exactly where she was, but she recognized the rows upon rows of grapevines. She was obviously somewhere in the vineyard. Deep in the vineyard.

She could see the manor in the distance and figured she was about five hundred yards away. This part of the vineyard hadn't been used in decades, but there was a clear opening where she now stood.

“Well, what's next?”

Tied to the sun and moon, freefalling in the sky... Take a look at this ring of life... If you put a finger to my lips, I promise I'll never lie.

She looked around. The sun had set and the moon was visible just overheard. Fireflies dipped and bobbed through the ancient tangled vines, and the chirping of crickets gave a soothing melody to the otherwise soundless night.

But there was one odd thing. One very strange, out-of-the-place thing. In the center of the clearing, there was an oak tree. That's not to say oak trees were all that uncommon, for there were plenty on the outer rim of the vineyard, but this one had hundreds of carvings into its massive trunk. All around the tree, there were letters and symbols and drawings, of people and animals and everything in between, all permanently etched into the bark.

She circled the tree at least half a dozen times, staring at all the elaborate carvings—most that were more detailed and vivid than an oil painting—and wondered who made them. They were like nothing she had ever seen before. She had spent days wandering these vineyards before, but never wandered this far or came across something quite as beautiful as this.

“This must be the ring of life...” she mumbled beneath her breath. “It has pictures of every creature, real or mythical, live or extinct, that is said to exist in Adelais.” She circled the tree one more time. “But whose lips am I supposed to paying attention to?”

She started putting her index finger to each of the creature's lips, maybe expecting something magical to happen. But nothing did. Still, each drawing was drawn upright, so that her finger was always pointing upward. She followed her finger up, into the knotted branches and shadowed leaves, and hung her head.

“Oh, please don't tell me I have to climb up there... I'm not a monkey, gramma.”

Sighing, she grabbed onto the branches—which were fortunately low enough that she could hoist herself up—and began scaling the tree, one branch at a time. Drops of blood trickled from her ear, but she shrugged it off and continued climbing, until she had reached where the trunk turned into a dizzying array of thick branches and sprouting leaves.

“Dream by day, fly by night...” she whispered, recalling the next part of the song. “Follow the silence and it will be all right.”

Well, it was all silent up here. There were plenty of nests in the branches—some with sleeping birds and others abandoned—but she imagined it was quite lively during the daytime. Perhaps there was a branch without birds?

No, that would be silly. How could a song older than her possibly know which branch no birds would decide to call home?

Maybe she really was going crazy. After all, she had just had a conversation with her dead grandmother a few hours ago. Maybe she was still experiencing the effects of that tea. Maybe she was still back in that cage, with that monster... Maybe this was all a dream.

But then she looked down—at the trunk of the tree—and realized something she hadn't seen. For all the carvings in the bark, there wasn't a single hole for chipmunks or owls or anything of the sort. That was certainly strange, for creatures like that were just as likely to live in an oak tree as robins and sparrows. She curled her fist into a ball and knocked on the side of the tree. It sounded hollow, but there was something unusual about it. It rang. Like metal. Like it had metal casing around it.

She climbed up further into the climb and brushed away all the sticks and twigs until she found what she was looking for: a round opening. Somehow, somebody had managed to put an iron door that led into the trunk of the tree. She turned the handle and the door opened easily, effortlessly, even after years of never being opened.

There was nothing but silence and more darkness inside the iron tube.

Olivia didn't know what to think as she lifted her legs over the opening and slid through. She expected to hit the bottom where the ground was at—some twenty feet below. She also expected to be able to use her hands to slowly climb down. Neither of those were the case, as the iron walls were too slippery to grip onto—and the tube turned into a slide and twisted its way deeper and deeper underground. She was too weak to scream, but she allowed herself to get swept further into the darkness, wishing like hell this wouldn't lead her into a pit of boiling lava or worse.

Instead, it spat her out into a small underground chamber. She landed on a bale of hay and picked herself up, covered in broken straw.

In front of her, there was a small altar with two pillars on either side—each blazing with torches of eternal flame. Black cloth with purple stripes and the House of Sienna insignia on the front adorned the altar, draping over the edges and onto the sandstone floor. And on this cloth sat a long, narrow chest with gold trimmings. The chest was closed, but the key was already inserted into the lock, and it sat there, waiting to be opened.

“...If you listen to the grapevines, don't forget to close your ears...” Olivia recited the final verse of the song. “And remember my mistake, only the dead can outrun their fears...”

She stepped over to the altar. What could be in that chest? Perhaps it was a trap. That pathway underground certainly was. Why couldn't this be as well?

No. Her grandmother wouldn't lead her into a trap.

Unless that wasn't really her grandmother. Maybe that was a monster in disguise.

She stepped off the altar.

“...No,” she told herself. “No, I can do this.”

So she moved towards the chest and put her hand on the key, turning it ever so slowly until it clicked into place. She waited for something to happen, but nothing ever did.

Using both hands, she pried open the lid. As soon as she did, there was some terrible shrieking, and waves of headless spirits with black tails came flying out, circling Olivia and the torches until they filled the chamber. Soon the flames were swallowed up and there was nothing but darkness and that ear-piercing shrieking that kept growing louder and louder until anyone with a weaker mind would have been driven to insanity.

But for Olivia, she had already crossed the deepest reaches of insanity, and she looked on into the chest until the being inside began to glow. At first, it looked like a small, shrunken skull, whose eyes burned in a purple flame. The dual flame would grow for a moment, showing every intricate ridge of the skull in fine detail, and then return to a mere cinder. It did this at the rate of a steady heartbeat, but the flame grew larger with each drawing pulse, until the entire skull seemed to catch fire. Purple flames turned to purple light and began to form the outline of what was inside. The skull was mounted on some sort of handle that wrapped around and formed the perfect place for a hand to grip. Above the skull, the purple light began to travel across a slender, ebony blade, glittering and shining even in the darkness in a purple vapor.

For Olivia, there was no sound in the room as she reached for the skull. Even as the shrieking of the spirits grew to unbearable levels, she calmly wrapped her fingers around the handle one by one and drew the blade from its resting place. No sooner had she done so did the shrieking stop, the flames ignited again, and the echoes faded away into the cackling torchlight, leaving behind no trace, save for the purple and black vapor still being emitted from the now visible epee.

Olivia turned the blade over and ran her finger down the side. She was amazed at how comfortably it felt—like it was made for her—and she gave it a couple of practice thrusts before she remembered how much her side ached and she nearly dropped it back into the chest.

Groaning, she searched around in the chest and found a belt from which she could sheathe the blade, as well as a small leather poach with a handful of gold. She tied the belt around her waist, hung the pouch from the belt, and slid the blade carefully into its sheathe. The moment her fingers left the hilt, the purple and black vapor disappeared, and she quietly closed the chest.

“This would be a lot more helpful if I could remember how to use a sword,” she thought to herself.

Now that the room was lit up again, she could see a door on the other side of the altar. She walked around and opened the door. This one took a bit of forcing, but eventually she was able to push it open—only to be welcomed by a familiar darkness. She considered taking one of the torches with her, but simply touching the hilt at her side caused the blade to light up again and provided enough light to see.

“Yeah, I'm definitely keeping this thing with me,” she muttered to herself as she stepped into the darkness. After some walking, she recognized she was back in the cavern from before, and eventually stumbled across the staircase that led to the oak tree. Choosing to climb this one instead of risking the path of the non-existent bridge again, she headed for the surface, glad to finally be out in the open once more.

“Well, friend...” she said, looking at the epee at her side and then at the manor in the distance. The candles were lit in the top window, so she knew her mother was still awake. “I don't suppose we'll ever return to this place.”

“Oh, can't you stay awhile?”

“Huh?”

Olivia turned around, only to be decked in the face by something hard. She was immediately driven into the dirt and tumbled at least ten feet backwards before she finally stopped. The aching in her side grew even more intense and she struggled to stand.

It wouldn't have mattered, though, because a very angry, very bloody, very sweaty Vlanis now towered over her. When the bridge had collapsed, her body had gotten snagged on the rocks—preventing her from plummeting to her death, but not before ripping open her clothes and skin. The scar on her face had completely ruptured and she was now oozing blood everywhere.

“I think I'll carry you back down there and throw you off the edge,” Vlanis said, picking up Olivia as easily as a twig. “I know how much you love being left alone in the dark.”

It was then that Vlanis first noticed the sword dangling from Olivia's side. The very sight of it caught her off-guard and she dropped Olivia and stepped back.

“W-where...” she uttered. “Where did you get that sword...?”

Olivia crawled to her feet and numbly grabbed the hilt of the epee. The purple and black vapor returned.

“I'll never tell you...” she said.

“You don't know what you have there. That sword belongs to your mother.” She extended her hand. “Give it to me now.”
 
“Take it from me then.”
 
“Don't be a fool!”

Olivia had no idea why there was so much fear in the warden's voice, but she used it to her advantage by aiming the epee at Vlanis. Suddenly, the vapor began to engulf Olivia's entire body, and her eyes turned white. Renewed strength began to fuel her body and some kind of strange force began to take over.

“LEAVE OUR FAMILY ALONE,” Olivia shouted, and her voice wasn't her own, but many voices, all crying out in unison. She was thrown forward, thrusting the epee, and it was all Vlanis could do to get her own sword up in time to counter the attack. Back and forth, their metal blades clashed, with each blow causing Vlanis to stumble further and further back towards the massive oak tree.

“I've served your family well for generations!” Vlanis cried, but soon Olivia was too much for her. She missed a parry and the epee was driven straight into the flesh of her right thigh. She missed a second time and the blade sliced into her left cheek. Finally, with her back against the tree, she raised her hands over her head, ready to crack Olivia's head open with the hilt of her sword, but the epee found its way into her gut.

Her sword fell. Blood began to pour from the open wound as Olivia slowly withdrew her blade and the color returned to her eyes.

“How did you...?” Vlanis gasped, fighting the blood in her lungs to get off just a few more words. She slumped to the ground, with a frozen expression of shock on her face, and leaned against the trunk of the oak tree. “I served your family well. I deserve better than this. You don't...deserve that sword...”

With her one eye still bleeding, the warden turned her head to the side and her body went limp.
 
Olivia stood over her, out of breath, and stared wide-eyed at the mythical weapon in her hand. It wasn't until now that she could move her fingers. She did so immediately and the epee dropped to the ground next to Vlanis. The metal clang echoed in her ears.
 
 
-------------------------


Twilight had fallen over the Crossroads. The tavern was unusually quiet this night, with only a single table taken—lit by a single wax candle—and no other bar patrons to be found. Even the barkeeper was missing from the scene when Rene Chandel entered through the front door, wrapped in the same brown cloak from before. This time, she had no reason to keep her head concealed, and so her hood was down and her hair flowed down her shoulders like red streamers.
 
Way over in the corner of the tavern, seated at her usual table, was the blue-haired ninja known as Lynne 'Hawkeye'. She had her back to the door, but she was clearly seated with somebody whose face was blocked by her body. She didn't get up, or even look around, when Rene entered the room. Instead, she continued shuffling a deck of cards mindlessly in one hand while she sipped a bottle of ale in the other.

Given the excessive number of empty bottles on the table, she had been drinking here for a while.

It wasn't until Rene moved closer that the face of the person seated with Lynne became visible. Even then, the face was partly hidden by a gag over the mouth, but there was no mistaking Kamilla. She looked just like she did on all the wanted posters. Now, though, she was tied to the chair and her wrists were bound behind her back, preventing her from moving at all. Still, she was trying desperately to say something, and her eyes were moving wildly from side to side.

Rene was the first to speak.

“...This wasn't exactly what I had in mind,” she said.

“You said you wanted to talk to Kamilla.” Lynne put down the bottle and pointed a slender finger across the table. “There she is. Say your piece.”

“It would be a lot easier without this on.” Rene reached over and removed the gag.

Once her mouth was free, Kamilla blurted out, “It's a trap! Get out of here!”

Lynne laughed and stood up.

“I wouldn't bother,” she said, helping a surprisingly calm Rene into the nearest chair. “One of my ninjas has a bead on you right now. One wrong move and you get a poisoned dart right into your neck. And even if you somehow avoid that, I have ninjas posted all around this city, waiting to pick you off if you try to escape. I'm surprised you didn't see any on your way in. Oh, wait. We're ninjas. Of course you didn't see any.” She grinned. “You know what they say, Red. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice... you're fuckin' dead.”

“We had a deal, Lynne.”

“Yeah, but then I decided to play my own cards.” She picked up the deck of cards in front of her and began dealing them out across the table. “I've been known to do that on occasion, you know.”

“She kidnapped my daughter,” Kamilla said. “I can't believe you would let her do that, Rene. I thought you were one of the good ones.”

Rene looked at her. “Believe me when I say I had no idea you even had a daughter.”

“Would that have made a difference? I can't believe I even considered trusting you.”

“No honor among thieves, huh?” Lynne chuckled and looked at her cards. “Still, I'm dying to know what led to this whole charade. Kam looking for Rene, Rene looking for Kam... And poor ol' me caught somewhere in between. What's a law-abiding ninja to do?”

“I'm not telling you anything,” Kamilla said.

“That's really too bad. I mean, what would little Amelie say if she knew her mommy was keeping secrets? I wonder if Amelie has any secrets. Do you think I should ask her?”

“Don't you lay a hand on my daughter,” Kamilla growled.

“How about a blade? Is a blade okay?” Lynne studied her cards intently. “I think I just might do that if I don't start hearing what all of this is about. What would drive a rogue who has always been known to work alone to seek out a 'legend' like Rene Chandel? Surely it must be something big.”

“...You might as well tell us,” Rene said. “She has the upper hand here.”

“Oh, don't think of it like that!” Lynne said, putting down two cards and drawing two more. “We're all friends here, aren't we? I mean, pretend for a moment that you aren't tied to a chair and that I don't have skilled ninjas ready to pounce on you if you try anything funny. Can't we just put all our secrets on the table? I'll start. I have a yeast infection on my left foot. Okay, your turn.”

Kamilla glared at her, but she knew she didn't have much of a choice. For Amelie's sake, she would have to tell the truth.

“...I wanted your help with a special contract,” she said, looking towards Rene. “Like everyone else, I've heard of your feats, and I thought you might be willing to help. The cause is right up your alley and this is more than a one-person job.”

“Who's the contract for?” Rene asked.

“I'm not at the liberty to say. But it's for a high-ranking political person who is of interest to my employer.”

“Princess Erika?” Lynne guessed. “No way. You've been her little pet for so long. This has to be somebody bigger... Who is bigger than Princess Erika? Besides in the chest area, I mean.” She pondered it for a moment. “Somebody from Ellewyn, perhaps? Countess Rebecca? Duchess May? One of the Paladins? Wow, there's just no end to the people I hate.”

“...It's the queen, isn't it?” Rene asked. “Erika hired you to take out Isabella.”

Kamilla's face said it all.

“Queen Isabella...” Lynne whistled. “That's some heavy stuff. You two bumbling fools wouldn't stand a chance. Have you ever seen her castle? I was invited there once. Something you two wouldn't understand. You see, when you don't always have a bounty on your head, you get invited to places. Very rich places. And unlike you, I don't go in there and think about what I want to steal. But anyway...” She looked at Kamilla's cards, tucked three away, and gave her three more. “When I was in Felwinter, I got to see the castle up close. That place is a fortress, and it's only better now that the Paladins have beefed up their security. You two would set off so many alarms that you probably wouldn't even make it across the courtyard without being seen. I mean, think about it. I trapped you both and I'm only one person. Those Paladins would eat you alive.”

“The cause is worth the risk,” Kamilla said. “As long as Isabella is in charge, Kaligar is in danger. The woman threatens our homeland with her selfish attitude and her apathy towards the war. If she remains on the throne, Kaligar will be run over by Sorena's forces and all that we love will be destroyed. What kind of future is that?”

Lynne raised an eyebrow.

“Are you asking for my help?” she inquired.

“I'm asking you to show a little bit of compassion for the people of our land. Should they suffer while Isabella sits in her ivory tower, oblivious to the problems of this world? Even you, Lynne, in all your self-righteousness, should understand...”

“Interesting cards we have been dealt here...” Lynne murmured as she waited for Rene to lay down her cards. She never did. “On one hand, you are committing a serious crime on a country that has been our ally for generations. On the other hand, I can't show my face in Masiela again without some hotheaded centurion trying to take it off because I kidnapped your brat of a child. But if I could take my place at your side, and do as Erika asked, perhaps I would receive a pardon...”

“...No offense, but I don't need you mucking things up,” Kamilla said. “That's why I wanted Rene.”

Rene smirked.

“Perhaps you've forgotten, but I've captured both you AND the infamous Rene Chandel,” Lynne said, leaning forward on the table. “And need I remind you that I have an entire army awaiting my every command? Can either of you say the same? Oh, of course not. Because you're forced to work alone. That's the life of a two-bit thief.” She spat in Kamilla's face and returned to her cards. “Just think about it... Three soldiers of fortune, brought together by a common enemy... This could be a story for the ages. Bards would sing about us for years to come.”

Then she laid out her cards. Three sixes.
 
 “Let's see them...” she said, flipping over Kamilla's cards. Nothing.

“...You know...” Lynne said, rocking back in her chair. “I'm not exactly sure you bring much to the table, Kam. After all, you've stabbed me in the back before.”
 
 “I couldn't care less about the contract right now,” Kamilla said. “I just want my daughter back.”

“And that worries me,” Lynne said. “I mean, here Rene and I are, risking our lives because we have nothing to lose... But what about you? You have a little whiny brat at home. What happens if somebody puts a sword to her throat and forces you to do something?”

“You mean like you're doing right now?”

“Exactly. Amelie is a threat to our little band of mercenaries. And you know what has to happen to threats?” She grinned. “They have to be eliminated.”

“I'll kill you if you hurt my daughter!” Kamilla screamed, wriggling around her chair. She thrashed around in her chair and finally managed to get onto her feet.

“Oh, dear... I do think that is a threat.” Lynne stood up and grabbed her katana from the table. Then, jumping onto the table, she thrust the blade into Kamilla's chest.
 
 “What are you doing?” Rene sprang to her feet, but Lynne quickly turned the blade on her and caught her just under the chin. The metal gleamed against her skin as she stood with a hand on her rapier.

Bleeding out, Kamilla could only stare at them in horror as she collapsed to the floor.

“...You didn't have to kill her,” Rene said.

“She would've ratted us out. You don't know her like I do.”

“You want to point your blade somewhere else now?”

“I'm not sure,” Lynne jumped off the table, stepping off Kamilla's body, and kept the bloody katana to Rene's throat as she circled the table back to her seat. “After all, I know more about Kamilla than I know about you. All I know about you is that you've tried to poison me before.”

“That poison was a placebo.”

“The ones in my ninja's darts aren't, I assure you.” Lynne lowered her katana and sat down. “Let's see your hand.”

“A straight,” Rene said, turning over her cards.

Lynne chuckled and rocked back in her chair.

“Not that hand,” she said, interlacing her fingers in her lap. “The hand that shows me you're worthwhile in bringing along. After all, I have more than enough muscle to kidnap a bratty princess. I already did it with Amelie.”

“That's your goal then? To take Kamilla's bounty in order to gain favor with Erika?”

“Sure. Once Isabella is out of the picture, Erika will have no choice but to welcome me home. Hell, she might even give me Kamilla's old job, seeing as how the position just opened up.”

The corner of Rene's lip lifted as she settled into her chair.

“Sure is a tall order for somebody you seem to have no respect for...” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“It's quite clear you and Erika haven't seen eye to eye for a while now. What makes you think she's suddenly going to warm up to you just because you offed some royal brat?” Lynne started to say something, but Rene continued. “This is supposed to be a private contract. There is no paper trail, no evidence to link it a kidnapping or an assassination back to Erika... It has to be. If Kamilla were to fail, Erika couldn't risk the contract being traced back to her.”

“So?”

“So, why would she come out in the open if you announce you're the one who succeeded in removing Isabella from the throne? More than likely, she'll play the innocent card and have you sentenced for crimes against Ellewyn. In the end, she gets what she wants, her hands remain clean, and you take the fall for what seemed like an impossible mission. Does that really sound like something you want?”

The legs of Lynne's chairs hit the floor and she twirled a lock of blue hair.

“Not when you put it that way,” she said.

“I have a different proposition for you,” the redhead continued. “Of course, it will require you not putting your sword through my chest or a dart in my neck, but I think I know how we can clear your name of any wrongdoing...and, at the same time, remove somebody from power who has done a lot more wrong to you than Queen Isabella.”

“...Erika?”

“Precisely.”

Lynne's grin reached from ear to ear.

“Do tell,” she said.

“We plant evidence that Erika secretly hired Kamilla to assassinate Isabella. It will require some creative manipulation on our part, but Erika will have a hard time denying any of it since we're not really framing her, but rather exposing her.”

“And then she'll be the one to go to jail for the crimes she has committed...”

“And you can be the hero who stopped Kamilla by kidnapping her daughter and forcing her to come after you.”

“Yes!” Lynne jumped up. “Yes, I love it. I finally get the recognition that I deserve.”

“Yes... And you'll never again have to worry about Erika getting in your way.”

“It almost seems too good to be true.” Lynne wiped her brow. She couldn't believe it. She was so excited she was actually perspiring. “...But what do you get out of all of this?”

Rene shrugged.

“Hopefully you won't kill me,” she said.

“Only if you try to put a knife in my back.”

They both laughed.

“No, but really,” Lynne said, suddenly becoming serious. “You even attempt to pull something over on me and I'll gut you just like I did to Kam. Believe me.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lynne grinned, took a final swig of ale, and picked up her katana.

“Come on,” she said. “I have Kam's daughter locked up in that old farmhouse down the road. Let's pay her a visit.”

Rene followed her out the door, but took one moment to look back at Kamilla's body, cold on the floor.

“Right,” she said, pulling up her hood.
 
 
-------------------------


Rebecca stood at the window of her bedroom, dressed in a long black bed robe, and stared out over the endless rows of vineyards below. She must have been standing there for an hour, looking at nothing, until she at last shuddered and closed the curtains. The candles inside the room flickered and made her skin glow as she moved towards the bed. The floorboards creaked even after she had stopped and caused her to turn her attention towards the door.

“I thought I shut you already,” she muttered to herself, and walked across the room.

When she shut the door and turned back around, her heart jumped, for there was her daughter, standing amidst the candlelight, with a blank expression on her face and white in her eyes.

“Olivia...” Rebecca gasped.

“Hello, mother.”

“How did you get in here? I mean...” She moved closer, but nervously and with some trepidation. “Olivia, it's so good to see you again. I...”

“Enough with the lies. If you wanted to see me, you would have came. I sat in darkness for three whole years without so much as a single visit.”

“I couldn't bear to see you that way. All twisted and torn up inside. You were lost inside your own madness.” She reached a hand up and touched Olivia's cheek. “And now... You look so cold and tired, my dear. You are not well. Why don't you rest for a while? I will have the servants bring you some of that tea you love so much.”

“I am not drinking your poison, nor am I staying around long enough for your goons to lock me again. By morning, I will be far away from this place, and you will not see me again.”

“Do not speak of such things, Olivia! You cannot go anywhere in this condition. Stay with me. We'll make you better.”

“I will be fine. I do quite well on my own...” Olivia turned towards the window. “There's an old oak tree with carvings on it. You can see it from the window. Go there in the morning and you'll find Vlanis' body. I didn't have the strength to carry it back.”
 
Rebecca looked horrified. “You...you murdered her!?”
 
“I took her life, if that's what you mean. But only because she was trying to take mine...by what she claims were your orders.”
 
“What!? Olivia, you know I would never do such a thing!”
 
“I know, mother.” Olivia stood silently for a minute. Her eyes were barely visible through the drooping spiderwebs of her hair. “...Before you left me to rot in that cell, you took something that was dear to me. I want him back.”
 
“Is this about your imaginary friend again? Olivia, I—”
 
“Kadaj is not imaginary, mother.” There was an eerie calmness to her voice. “He is real. I have seen him, I have felt him, and I know he exists. Do not play games with me.”
 
“Well, you will not find him here, Olivia. He was...disposed of...along with all your other childhood memories.”
 
“You never were a good liar.”
 
“You are free to look around the manor as long as you'd like.” Rebecca stepped back and spread her arms as if to welcome Olivia to look anywhere she pleased. “This is, after all, your home.”
 
“You hid him away then.”

Rebecca shook her head. “If...if I had an imaginary friend, I would thank the person who finally got rid of such a creature for me. I can only imagine the kind of embarrassment one would feel, being a full-grown adult—and a beautiful one at that—and still talking to shadows and little monsters under her bed...”
 
“What did you do with him, mother?”
 
“As I said, all your childish toys and games are gone. Now is time to be a grown-up lady.”
 
“...My tiara then. Where is my tiara?”
 
“Your tiara?”
 
“What did you do with it?”
 
“Why, I gave it to Queen Isabella as a charity piece for the next fencing tournament. What does that matter?”
 
“I want it back.”

“I'm sorry, my dear. I had to give it away.” She took her daughter's hand and held it tight. “But stay with me for the night. We will go retrieve your tiara in the morning and talk about all the wonderful things that have transpired since you've been away.”

“You are dead to me, mother,” Olivia said, withdrawing her hand. “What you have done is unforgivable. Who locks her daughter in a prison, feeds her poison, and never comes to see her?”
 
“You're speaking madness,” Rebecca said. Then she gasped. “Are...are you going to kill me...just like you killed Vlanis? Is this what it has come to? Dai Celesta, forgive me for raising my daughter to be a murderer...”
 
 Olivia moved towards the door.
 
“Do not follow me,” she said, opening it. “And pray we do not meet again, for I have a difficult time restraining myself even now.”
 
 “Olivia... Even after all you have done, I still love you.”

“Good-bye, mother.”

Rebecca stood alone in the darkness as all of the candles blew out when the door slammed shut.

 
-------------------------


 Amelie wriggled around in her bindings. Flames were blazing all around her, but she had managed to inch her way into the corner of the room, and was trying desperately to free herself. A beam from above crashed down and the flames were soon over her head.

“Help!” she screamed, for what felt like the fiftieth time, even though she knew it was no use. There was nobody around for miles. The fire soon engulfed the whole house and smoke filled her eyes. Coughing, she ran her palms across the floorboards until she found a nail that hadn't quite been pounded in all the way, and she began rubbing the bindings of her wrists against it. Only her hands and legs were tied up. If she could free her hands, then maybe...

The ceiling above crashed down, nearly on top of her, and she began working the bindings faster. The threads stretched and broke little by little.

Outside, the heavy beating of a horse's hooves filled the night. They became louder and louder as Fallon rode up the hill towards the burning farmhouse. The red ribbons in her hair fluttered out behind her as she rounded the house on horseback, calling out Amelie's name.

“I'm in here!” Amelie screamed, and she screamed even louder as the fire suddenly cackled and flames shot up all around her. With a final push, the ropes around her wrists finally snapped in half, and she quickly wrestled with the bindings on her legs while the fire raged on.

“I'm coming, Amelie,” Fallon said, leaping off the horse. The entire porch was engulfed in flames, so she grabbed a blanket that was thrown over the horse's back and began wrapping it around her hand while she moved towards the window on the side of the house and smashed it open.

By now, Amelie had freed herself from the rest of her bindings, and tried to stand up. The ceiling had almost completely caved in on her, so she had to keep her head low, and she shielded herself from the red inferno as she tried to find a way out.

“I can't see anything!” she shouted.

“Just keep talking. I'll find you.”

Fallon worked her way through the maze of fallen beams and blazing furniture, climbing over and sliding under whenever necessary, while following the sound of Amelie's voice to the back of the farmhouse.

“Amelie, I see you. I need you to come closer to me.”

“I can't. I...”

A loud pop was heard and a beam crashed down in front of Fallon. She kicked it out of the way with her heel and jumped over it, rolling under another beam, and reached Amelie just as the bed and dresser from the upper floor crashed down around them.

“Come on,” Fallon said, squeezing Amelie's hand. She led the girl through the burning wreckage and back to the window.

“Wait,” Amelie said. She crawled over to the corner, despite falling debris around her, and grabbed something out of the jumbled mess below.

Fallon didn't have time to stop her, but again wrapped the blanket around her hand and cleared out the rest of the shattered glass from the windowpane. By the time Amelie had returned, the glass was gone, and she hoisted Amelie through the opening before climbing through herself.

Still coughing, they moved a safe distance away into the grass before circling around the farmhouse to where Fallon's horse was waiting for them.

“It was Lynne,” was the first thing out of Amelie's lips when they fell to the grass to catch their breaths. “She grabbed me and took me here and then tried to burn the place down.”

Fallon panted.

“She said something about wanting to lead my mom into a trap. We have to stop her!”

Amelie was already on her feet before Fallon could stop her.

“...Amelie...” Fallon said. “Is Kamilla your mother?”

Amelie stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“Yes... How did you know?”

There was a look of concern on Fallon's face. She cupped her face in her hands and inhaled slowly, and then gestured for Amelie to have a seat next to her. Behind her, the farmhouse continued to blaze, with the flames reaching high into the night.

“I found your mother an hour ago at a tavern in the Crossroads.” Her voice trailed off. “Amelie...”

“She's dead, isn't she?”

“I'm sorry, Amelie. Lynne got to her before I could...”

But Amelie had already taken off running—tearing down that hill towards the Crossroads—and dropped whatever it was in her hands.

Fallon lowered her head and hugged her knees to her chest. After a minute, she stood up and walked over to the object that Amelie had dropped. The thing that had been so important that she would risk going back into the fire to retrieve it.

Fallon knelt down and picked it up. It was charred and scuffed by the fire, but the red hair was still quite recognizable. She stared at the wig for a minute, turning it over in her hands, and then tucked it into her pouch. With a deep, silent sigh, she grabbed the reins of her horse and started after Amelie.