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TO Rewrite: B3 — 39. A Sister's Plight
🕑 Added 2025-04-01 23:38:22 +0000 UTCAuthor Note: Took a bit longer for me to edit and go through. The editors didn't get to fully go through it so there may be some errors for the early readers. These chapters just require a lot of writing. This one is pretty big and I needed to finish it. It's almost 10k words long, which is like two of my typical chapters. o7
PoV:
1. Fiona White (Our Fairy Queen!)
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Fiona hovered near the window of the UK safehouse, her wings stirring small currents as she watched the World Tree stretch its massive branches across London’s skyline. Its roots disappeared into the misty Thames, intertwining with concrete and stone in ways that felt both beautiful and wrong.
The tree’s presence tugged at something deep inside her, a whispered song just beyond hearing. Ever since setting eyes on it off the plane, she’d been getting this unusual feeling from its pristine, natural beauty.
Does Ireland have something like this now? Can Nora see this from our backyard? It’s grown bigger since I saw news reports on it… It’s basically a dam at this point, but it somehow doesn’t cause a build-up… Magic. Mom, Dad, Nora… Please, take care of yourselves.
The thought of her sister sent a hollow ache through her tiny chest.
For weeks now, they’ve been living in an isolated warzone with Balor trying to take over our home…and I had no idea. I guess no one did, but shouldn’t Rachel have known sooner with all her divine connections?
She swiftly shook her head and rubbed between her eyes. I can’t think like that… It’s just the stress. It’s just the unknown… Anthony said our town hasn’t been affected yet. Balor’s ritual sealed off Ireland but it isn’t toothless. Still, food shortages, supernatural creatures running wild, and civilians trapped in endless night…is not good.
“—and that's why we believe they’re preparing to make a move against you specifically, Fiona,” Merlin’s voice cut through her thoughts.
She blinked, wings stuttering mid-beat. “Sorry, what?”
Merlin’s ghostly form flickered with what might have been impatience as the others glanced at her with a compassionate smile that made her a bit annoyed and thankful.
“Yes. As I was saying, our intelligence suggests the Scarlet Hand has taken a particular interest in your fairy dust and its magical properties. There is something unique about it that they need for the next part of their plan. We believe they’re planning an attempt to acquire you. We’ve kept your arrival into the country slip to specific individuals. We’re shaking the branches.”
“Really, kidnapping is so old at this point.” Fiona’s wings buzzed faster, powder dusting the air with green sparkles. “St. Patrick’s beard, I’m really tired of being fairy-napped. Can’t they just send a polite invitation for once… Maria might say something dumb to that,” she added with a faint smile, coping and truly feeling a little more isolated without the foul-mouthed unicorn around.
Anthony leaned forward, his expression serious. “Merlin, how reliable is this intelligence and what about Rachel? Have you been able to get in contact with General Dallas? Can he provide further support? We’ve been in London less than an hour and already they’re going after us? It just seems a bit off.”
“How so?” Cahira asked with a yawn, throwing her arms in the air and arching her back to stretch out her chest. “Ya see, from what Selv tells me, if I were them, my little red fingers would want to be wrapped around our dear leader’s neck.”
Anthony glanced her way. “Oh, I bet they’d want that, sure. It’s just…”
Selvaria’s monotone input flew in while she groomed her tail with a brush. “The boss is too much trouble. Adele doesn’t want to upset Scarlet, either. It’s complicated. Could it be an off-shoot? Maybe Scarlet’s mom doesn’t have total control over their network now.”
“That’s…pretty on point thinking, Selv,” Anthony said with a short laugh, rubbing his neck; he was likely just as anxious as Fiona with his own family and friends situation but dealing with it a lot better than her by his tone. “Given Adele’s relationship with Rachel, I’d expect her to be far more cautious to interact with us. They wouldn’t want to pull her into their vicinity again unless they’re fully prepared to handle the chaos she brings. That doesn’t feel like Adele.”
Merlin’s face remained unreadable as he summoned a tome out of thin air and began flipping through it, as if reviewing reports. “No, we are positive Adele, and the main branch of the Scarlet Hand, are after Fiona. However, there could be internal strife and Adele might not be the only one within the organization that is after Fiona for their own purpose.”
“Wonderful,” Fiona grumbled, tucking her legs against her chest while leaning against the cool glass. “Does that mean I’m under house arrest and can’t go shopping with the others for supplies and stuff for my home? When do you want me to act as bait? Am I doing it now?”
The young-looking wizard’s stern eyes turned more gentle. “I understand that this is inconvenient and not something you particularly want to deal with. What I can tell you is that the information is reliable enough that Arthur insisted on doubling your security detail. The knights posted outside are some of our best. It would take someone truly extraordinary to slip by them. As for the bait, perhaps we should wait for you to settle in a little more and get some rest.”
“That’s a good idea,” Anthony returned with a tired sigh and compassionate look her way. “We still would like to explore the tree at some point. That can be arranged, right? I mean, it has some of the tightest security around it. It’s right there. You could assign someone who can fly to go with her, and say what you want but I doubt many people will be as strong as Fiona right now.”
A heat rose within Fiona’s chest at those words and she held up an arm to show her non-existent muscles. “Yeah, I’m a living bomb, after all! Fireballs, giant icicle lances, practically tornados! I’m a walking natural disaster…minus the walking part,” she snickered, feeling a little better.
Merlin creased an eye with a constrained smile. “Which…is why we’d like you to avoid public places, Ms. White. I understand you also have a Feat called [Warpath] that compels you into a, ahem, murderous rage. It would do well for us to not put you in a situation where they could exploit that.”
“Oh, yeah… I guess that makes sense, too,” Fiona mumbled, elf-like ears drooping and glancing down at the street, where several knights were examining the shifting fog. “I didn’t think about them using hostages and stuff, but yeah, the gang did that in Miami… Maria would probably curse and call them pathetic losers,” she mumbled, hugging herself.
“Movie villain stuff,” Selv huffed, sliding a finger along her tail’s deadly edge. “Don’t worry, Fi ,so long as I’m here, no one will mess with you. They don’t want to make me mad.”
Cahira snickered and pulled out her phone, seemingly having gotten a text. “Aye, love, nobody be wantin’ ta draw the ire of a walking behemoth of the sea but what is this business with our dancin’ hare bein’ MIA? The fairy’s got sugar in spades. The lassie will be fine! But there’s been chatter abroad which has me wantin’ to run some things by the big boss.”
“You could just ask me,” Anthony dully muttered. “You just think I’ll say no.”
“Not denying it,” Cahira said with a wide grin. “Adventure is always abound and yer stuck on gettin’ to Ireland as if a crab’s snapped your backside! Not that I be against the swift travel plans, handsome, but a lady, such as meself requires certain,” her red hair weaved left and right with her head movements, “activities that need discretion.”
Selvaria snorted. “Really? You’re going there, Red?”
“Look, we all be havin’ our vices and causin’ a little trouble with other like-minded, respectable brigands helps mi mood!” the woman protested “We wouldn’t want me ta start hallucinatin’ and eh, gettin’ distracted now, would we, Captain Anthony? I hear ya have enough problems with the ladies within your circle as it is!”
Oof. Fiona winced as Anthony streamed out a long breath and Merlin looked like he was losing his patience. Yeah, Cahira seems like the troubled woman kind of girl. Selv keeps her in check though…
“Stop implying stupid stuff!” Selv’s tail lashed out to slap the redhead’s backside. “This is serious talk.”
“Eesh! C’mon, Selv!” She clicked with her tongue and jumped a little, rubbing the sore area; it probably didn't have the same weight behind it since she'd released a ton of her water. “Ya require water ta remain all monstrous, and a lady of the sea needs a little…adventure every other day, at least! Ya can’t keep a sea lovin’ woman like me on the shore for long, now can ya? Work with me here, ya great big beautiful beast! Oof… You got a tail on you, love!”
“Mmm!” Selvaria raised her tail again, making the pirate chuckle and hold up her hands in a way that said she didn’t want the smoke.
Anthony, however, glanced between them with a calculating hum. “No, you can have the run of things, Cahira. I don’t think we’re that worried about your safety.”
Cahira responded with her characteristic pirate swagger and flirtatious energy that made Selvaria’s mouth tighten. “Ah, now that’s more like it! Our captain’s got the right idea!”
She winked at Anthony, tossing her wild red hair over her shoulder with a triumphant grin. “See, Selv? The man knows opportunity when it comes knockin’! While you lot are busy with yer serious faces and plans, I’ll be gatherin’ the kind of information that only flows with the rum and coin! Ain’t that right, handsome?”
She leaned closer to Selvaria, lowering her voice to a stage whisper that everyone could still hear. “And don’t be worryin’ yer pretty scaled head about me, love. I promise I’ll bring back somethin’ worth the trouble. Might even find some info on orca waters for ya to stretch those magnificent fins in…or deeper waters. What say ya give a girl some breathin’ room to work her magic? I’ll even bring ya back a souvenir…somethin’ cute, just how ya like ‘em!”
Her tone maintained that playful Irish lilt while mixing in nautical slang and pirate-like phrases, showcasing both her troublemaking nature and the genuine affection she has for Selvaria, despite her provocations. Selvaria’s cheeks turned a tad red.
“Don’t go assuming things and trying to get me something I definitely don’t want.”
“Oh, I know you better than you think,” the redhead slyly snickered. “If I wanted ta bring back a juicy piece of meat, it would be for meself. Ya savor…another kind of treasure,” she chimed before showing a more genuine smile. “"Somethin’ more akin to a chat with a friend beside a fire and nice wine… We’ll have our own private fun. Promise! So don't mind me.”
She threw her hips into a short twirl before winking at Fiona by the window. “Don’t think you’ll be far from me mind because of yer size, darlin’. I’ll just be in the corner settin’ up a few lovely meets with the local pirates. And no tails, ya hear, magic man!”
He didn’t respond.
However, Anthony seemed to go along with her flow. “Just make sure to check in with me. Text is fine.”
“And what if me fine ass is tied up and someone else is usin’ me phone?” she countered with a testing hum, throwing a provocative smirk his way. “I could be in real trouble!”
“I’m sure you’d have a safe word,” Anthony bluntly returned. “I can’t see you being tied up unless you want it.”
“Haha! You’ve pegged a lass!”
“To her other point,” he muttered with a shake of his head as the pirate began to sway and hum to her own tune while texting her contacts, we’ve tried reaching Rachel. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Do you have anything on what happened in Montana, Merlin?”
The man seemed to completely ignore the flirtatious woman as he nodded, his form wavering slightly. “General Dallas sent me a minor report. As I understand it, her brother was attacked by Russia and she collapsed a Fable realm due to it while taking on Eldritch forces, and is currently recovering… She also added two new members to your roster.”
Cahira whistled from beside the door and Fiona sat a little straighter, concern crossing her face.
“Oh no, Nam! Is he okay? Is Alexa okay? And Russia did it?!”
Selvaria’s tail stilled, vision narrowing. “The Russians…”
“That…sounds on brand for Rachel,” Anthony muttered with a stressed laugh and shake of his head. “But yeah, we’ll just leave that up to her. The Crystal?”
“Not open as of yet, and Rachel seems to believe it will be within the next few days,” he evenly responded. “Those are concerns across the ocean, though. We have our own problems to deal with, and from what I understand, Ms. White, her brother is in recovery. That being said, we are taking your security seriously.”
“Pfft.” Selvaria swapped to one of the couches, being careful of her spikes while sprawling across it in her teenage form, rolled her eyes. “Knights. What are they gonna do against a supernatural threat, who they’d send after Fi? I mean, I could eat them for breakfast.” She paused, monotone voice somehow conveying afterthought. “Not that I would. You’re good guys. That would be inappropriate hero behavior. But still. Weak.”
Cahira lounged by the window now, boots propped on an antique table that probably cost more than most people’s cars. “Ain’t wrong there, big blue. These fancy boys with their swords don’t stand a chance against real power, like ya.” She winked at Fiona. “Good thing ye got us, tiny.”
Fiona smiled despite herself from their jokes. At least, she knew Cahira was joking. Selv, she could never tell due to her monotone voice. Cahira’s irreverence was oddly comforting in the face of another potential disaster.
“I’m sure they’re competent. Let’s not bash our allies,” she whispered, trying to focus on the problem at hand instead of the persistent tug she felt toward the World Tree; it was distracting every time she looked at it. “Just stay cooped up in here and wait for them to try?”
“We want to set a trap outside of the safehouse,” Merlin replied, his ghostly form pacing the room. “Make them believe they’ve found you vulnerable in a controlled environment with enough chaos to make them bold, then spring our own ambush when they move in.”
Anthony rubbed his arm before pressing a closed fist against his mouth. “I’m still a bit uncomfortable about using Fiona as bait.”
“That’s not necessarily what I—” Merlin began.
“It’s exactly what you mean,” Anthony interrupted, his voice hardening. “And look, I get it. The Scarlet Hand is institutionalized. It’s everywhere. They’ve embedded themselves all over the place and it took a wrecking ball, like Rachel, with misfortune-based powers to just trip them up for a bit.
“Still, I don’t like it. Especially when we’re supposed to be preparing to enter Ireland, not deal with the Scarlet Hand. It’s not why we’re here. There could be hundreds dying every day if the food situation is as bad as we’ve heard. We need to move fast, not get distracted by Scarlet Hand games.”
A ripple of warmth spread through Fiona at his protectiveness. Since she’d met him, Anthony had been a respectful guy who seemed to speak his mind. He treated her well over the past few weeks, despite her tiny size, but also never as a fragile thing to be sheltered but as a teammate worth defending.
“I can handle it,” she said, stretching out her wings and rising up to fly over and perch on Anthony’s shoulder. “If it helps us get closer to figuring out what they’re up to, I’m in for Scarlet’s sake. Well, so long as it doesn’t interfere with our plans. Realistically, it will take a while to get all the goods ready, right?”
Anthony’s expression remained troubled. “I’m glad you want to support Scarlet, Fi, but this is risky when we don’t have to take the risk.”
“Everything about this mission is risky,” she countered. “And I’m sick of waiting for things to happen to us. I might not have that big of a connection or hatred for the Scarlet Hand as Scarlet or Rachel, but they are bad.”
Merlin cleared his throat, or made a sound approximating it given his ghostly state. “There are larger forces at play here. I am the Legend of Merlin. I have many avenues of information and connections around the globe. The Scarlet Hand’s movements in London coincide with… What is this power? We’ve been breached! Vampires—”
Fiona stiffened, immediately getting flashbacks of the Myth of the Nosferatu and others who Saint Catherine had given her life to defeat. Anthony immediately got to his feet, sword in hand, and Cahira summoned a pistol that twirled around her finger, eyes sharp.
A commotion outside drew their attention to the terrace window. The sound of boots on stone, sharp orders being called, and the distinctive ring of metal being drawn.
“Someone’s on the terrace,” Selvaria announced, rising and cracking her neck. “I’ll go say hello.”
Anthony moved to join her. “So much for a safe house, Merlin, and you aren’t even here to do anything about it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he whispered, a staff in the corner glowing before shooting to his hologram’s hand. “There are many ways to be present while not being so…”
Fiona launched from his shoulder, darting to the ceiling where shadows would conceal her tiny form and readying herself to zap whoever it was.
The heavy wooden door burst open as knights rushed into the room from downstairs, swords drawn and armor glinting in the afternoon light. “Intruder on the western terrace,” one announced, voice tense. “Heavily cloaked and came from the air—wings on its back, dark as night! We’re moving to intercept!”
Fiona blinked, her thoughts returning to one of the very few people she knew who had wings. But it couldn’t be her. Right?
Fiona peered through the window and saw a dark figure standing on the terrace overlooking the misty expanse where the World Tree’s massive roots disappeared into the ground. The figure was shrouded in a heavy cloak, hood drawn down to conceal their face as large wings wrapped around them from behind.
This is too obvious, she thought. If the Scarlet Hand wanted to kidnap me, they wouldn’t just stroll up to the front door, would they? No, this has to be…
“Wait!” Anthony commanded the knights, his hand raised. “You have to be kidding me…”
The figure on the terrace turned slowly toward the now open door, still completely hidden within the folds of their cloak. Anthony stepped forward cautiously, positioning himself between the doorway and where Fiona hovered.
“Why—no, how are you here, Piper?” he called.
With a graceful movement, the figure reached up and pulled back their hood.
A collective gasp filled the room as Countess Elizabeth’s newly adopted daughter from another world revealed herself..
Piper stood on the terrace, her alabaster skin nearly translucent in the muted daylight, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her red eyes glowed softly as she smiled.
“Hello, Lord Anthony,” she said, her voice carrying a musical and noble lilt. “It’s been a short while from where I come from.”
The knights tensed, weapons still raised, but Anthony quickly gestured for them to lower their swords. “Stand down! She’s…sort of a friend.”
Fiona darted closer, curious and wary. She’d heard and seen a bit of Piper in Elizabeth’s world, having listened to Anthony’s story about her past, but didn’t know much besides that. She’d never directly met her, either.
“What are you doing here?” Anthony stepped onto the terrace. “Is everything alright with your mother?” he carefully asked, pointedly not saying Elizabeth’s name. “How did you find me—I assume you’re here for me?”
Merlin stepped through the doorway to join them, his ghostly form flickering with suspicion as his staff illuminated a pale blue. “How did you find this location?” he demanded. “This safehouse is warded against detection.”
Piper hardly gave him a look, Anthony retaining her smile, the expression both warm and predatory in the way only a vampire’s smile could be—a vampire who had never been human and came from a Legend World. The woman’s gaze shifted to Anthony’s hand where a black dove tattoo was barely visible beneath his sleeve. That made her vision narrow.
“So many marks on your heart and teeth on your neck…but I am patient. As to how I can find you,” her smile turned impish, “well, I can find you anywhere due to my blood flowing within your veins. We are…connected, in a way.”
Fiona discreetly lowered herself, staying high and out of immediate sight, but close enough to hear. Selvaria’s eyes narrow at that statement, a flash of judgment crossing her normally impassive face. Even Cahira raised an eyebrow, her ever-present smirk deepening with interest at the potential drama and new addition. Fiona didn’t know if they’d interacted during the days they’d spent at the castle after the Legend Quest.
“How did you even get here?” Anthony asked, changing the subject with practiced smoothness. “It’s almost noon—the sun—”
Piper held up her arm, revealing a patch of lightly burned skin that was healing even as they watched, but it was the gem-like bracelet she wore she showed off.
“There are special items in my world that combat the sun during the rare occasions it appears. They work here too, though with…diminished effectiveness. Originally, this would belong to my father, but I was given it.” She winced slightly as a ray cut through the mist before being filtered out. “I wouldn’t recommend a full day at the beach if you wanted to take me somewhere.”
Fiona hovered lower, her curiosity overcoming her caution. Piper didn’t seem threatening, and if she was connected to Elizabeth, she might have information that could help them understand what was happening in the EU.
“There are matters we need to discuss in person,” Piper continued, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Events in Europe are changing rapidly. Information that might be relevant to your mission here. An alliance is happening between a few prominent individuals and Balor.”
Anthony nodded. “I’d like to hear more about that. Where is their influence?”
“Mmm. Perhaps somewhere more private?” Piper suggested, glancing at the gathered knights and Merlin’s studious expression.
“Of course,” Anthony agreed, turning to lead her inside. “Fi, just hold out a bit longer.”
“Sure…”
Merlin followed them, his ghostly form casting no shadow as he glided across the terrace. The knights gradually returned to their posts, though tension remained in their postures.
Fiona watched them go, a strange hollowness settling in her chest. Everyone suddenly had their own priorities—Anthony with Piper, Merlin gathering intelligence, the knights returning to duty. Even Cahira had received a call and was arguing loudly with someone about cargo shipments and “pirate things.”
I’m supposed to be kidnapped soon, and everyone’s off doing their own thing, like I don’t even matter… Huh. What should I do now? Merlin isn’t pushing for me to be bait or anything. I guess when a really powerful vampire from another world shows up she takes priority.
Her wings drooped slightly as she floated back inside. The World Tree loomed in the distance, visible through every window within the room, its presence a constant pull on her senses. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to quell the shiver that ran through her tiny frame.
Nora… Mom… Dad… What are you all doing right now? Are you safe? Can you feel me thinking about you?
She’d grown so much stronger since the last time she’d seen them. Her [Prismatic War Magic] had evolved to new levels, and she’d gathered quite a few Feat points that she’d been saving, wanting to consult with Rachel about the best upgrades to choose. But what good was all that power if she couldn't protect the people who mattered most.
“Hey, Fi!” Selvaria called from across the room, her teenage form slouched against the wall. “You look super sad. I mean, your wings are all droopy and your hair is, like, way less sparkly than normal.”
“I’m fine,” Fiona said automatically, then sighed. “Actually, no, I’m not. It’s just…everything was about me and this kidnapping, and now everyone’s distracted. I want to hear what the plan is for catching the Scarlet Hand. I mean, the sooner we do that the sooner we don’t have to worry about it, right?”
Selvaria frowned. “They’re dumb. They should be paying attention to you. Kidnapping trumps weird bat lady. I mean, small things need protection, right? Like how I protect fish from being too alive.”
Despite herself, Fiona laughed. “That’s…a good one, Selv. Sometimes it’s hard. I’m not used to being…ignored, I guess. Kind of conceited, I know!”
Selvaria approached, looking uncharacteristically earnest despite her monotone voice. “Hey, I also get ignored a lot. Like when my mom calls. Which she just did. She’s worried because she saw something on the news about London, and I had to tell her I’m fine even though there’s probably a bunch of supernatural assassins trying to kidnap us. Parental worrying. So inefficient.”
Cahira rolled her eyes as she ended her call. “Oi! That was the most useless conversation I’ve ever had with Blackbeard—and that’s saying something! The old fool thinks there’s a boat thief in the docs but he’s been the one stealing a ton of ships! Apparently they got one of his so it’s no longer acceptable.”
She made a dramatic gesture with her hand. “As if I care about someone stealin’ boats when that requires the damned thief to be close by and stealing from yer soul.”
Fiona flew over to the terrace railing, perching on the stone edge. The fog had thickened around the World Tree, giving it a ghostly, ethereal appearance. She felt the pull again, stronger this time.
“Growing up, I was always surrounded by people,” Fiona mumbled, not sure if anyone was listening. “Teachers, producers, people who wanted to hear me sing. Labels trying to get me to sign contracts. But I always felt kind of…isolated within those crowds.”
Selvaria came to stand beside her, leaning on the railing and making it groan. “I felt the opposite. Never had many close friends. Everyone always ended up avoiding the weird girl who… Yeah, we’ll just say they avoided me…” she shrugged her massive shoulders. “But Omen’s different. Everyone has their own stuff going on, but we still come together. I like that.”
“And I miss Maria,” Fiona admitted. “She was crude and brash, but she always made time for me. She was…grounding. She’d always call me out and be kind at the same time as insulting me… I hope she’s doing okay.”
“I don’t know about ya Irish fairies and yer feelings,” Cahira teased, approaching the railing. “Always broodin’ about somethin’ or other, or playin’ pranks.”
“Hey, I am not brooding,” Fiona protested. “I’m contemplating. There’s a difference, and pranks are fun when my whole family isn’t in a war zone… When my home isn’t a war zone.”
“Your sister?” Selvaria asked, shutting out the discussion happening in the other room with Anthony, Piper, and Merlin. “Nora, right? And your parents? You must be pretty worried. I’d be worried about my mom. Heck, I’m worried right now.”
Fiona nodded, her wings fluttering anxiously. “All the time now. I don’t even know if they’re okay. It’s been weeks since The Oscillation. Now I hear they may not have enough food or if my small town is still safe from whatever creatures Balor has unleashed.” She hesitated, glancing toward the window again. “And the World Tree…it’s calling to me. I can feel it.”
“Calling to you?” Selvaria’s eyebrows rose. “Like, actually talking? I know you can speak to animals, but I didn’t think you were a tree talker, too. Cool. Maybe you could tell me if my fern back home wants water, because I can never tell. It’s picky. Or are you talking about the way cheesecake calls to me at three in the morning?”
“Eh-haha. More like…a gravitational pull. Like there’s something it wants to show me. I can feel a sort of…weeping willow kind of vibe from it.” Fiona looked back at the doorway where Anthony had disappeared with Piper. “Everyone else is busy with their own things now, and Piper showing up is definitely going to cause trouble. I…just want to check it out since it’s something I can do right now. Maybe it knows something about Ireland. I don’t know,” she mumbled, rubbing her elbow.
Selvaria’s spikes flashed various colors, electricity sparking down their length as she glanced at Cahira for a moment. “Uh, isn’t this exactly like in movies where someone says ‘I’ll be right back’ and then gets murdered or taken? Especially when there’s a group trying to kidnap you? It feels like that.”
“Aye, I’d generally be on the side of adventure, love, but a talkin’ tree and mystical organizations that deal in the occult don’t exactly be striking the brightest decision makin’ if ya catch me drift. Now, don’t mind me, if I was an anxious lassy, practically a bottle of champagne waitin’ to burst, I’d be flyin’ my pretty ass down to the river.”
“I know, I know. But what choice do I have? No one has time for this right now, and Anthony’s going to want to go over every plan and failsafe Merlin has. I mean, we kind of have time. We just got here and I’m just supposed to sit around doing nothing? Ugh…”
She ran her fingers through her hair, fairy dust mixing all sorts of colors as it spread like snowflakes around her. “If there’s even a chance the tree knows something about my family—if it can help…” Fiona trailed off, staring at the massive presence that dominated the London skyline.
After a moment’s silence, Cahira snorted. “And here I was thinking the tiny one had sense.” She shook her head. “Look, if you’re goin’, at least let me lend you this.” She pulled a small silver whistle from around her neck. “Got it off a Scottish Legend—no need to ask questions. He was passed out drunk and exhausted from…activities, and I was bored! So, I…borrowed it, I suppose you could say,” she proudly stated.
“Cahira,” Selvaria growled, disapproval written on her face. “That’s mean.”
“No, love! You don’t get it. It’s like when a girl steals a shirt or sweatshirt to remember a good evening. Totally innocent! If I ever see the man again, I’ll return it. Promise!”
Fiona strained a smile, not needing to picture what the pirate was describing. “Something tells me a sweatshirt and a magical whistle aren’t the same things. You really do blur the lines between good and bad, woman.”
“She really does,” Selvaria mumbled. “My mom is going to kill you for getting me drunk by the way.”
“Oh, she’ll love a lady of the sea like me! I’m a lovely person, everyone says so after a night out with me,” she winked. “Anyway, blow it if you’re in trouble. It’ll make a right racket that even these fancy knights can hear and stun anyone nearby for thirty minutes.”
Sevlaria’s mouth dropped open. “Thirty minutes? What kind of stunned, Cahira? Brain damage?”
“Love, love!” Cahira laughed, shaking her head. “No, nothin’ dangerous like that… Only, potentially permanent ear damage. Side effects might include blindness, I didn’t read the instructions but from a story the lad told me, it fits….unless he be a liar! And we have no evidence of that…yet.”
Fiona couldn’t help a short giggle at the woman’s antics and used a spell to levitate the whistle beside her, which was almost as big as she was. “Thanks, Cahira. I hope blowing wind through it makes it activate because, forget my lungs, my mouth isn’t compatible with this thing.”
“Don’t go thanking me yet. I still think this is stupid, tiny.” Cahira’s eyes twinkled with something that might have been concern. “Just because me morals be aligned with ya doesn’t mean me brain ain’t be wantin’ ta slap ya a new one for suggestin’ a devilish prank like this be. Just don’t get yourself kidnapped for real, aye? Put up a real fight!”
“Hey, you’re acting like she’s already been kidnapped,” Selvaria snarled, fidgetting with her fingers. “I want to go with you, but we’ll be watching, okay? Promise to make a giant firework in the sky if you’re in trouble. Like, super giant. I want napalm explosions. And I’ll be diving out this window to the rescue!”
“Promise!” Fiona agreed, already fluttering toward the window after one last check that Anthony and Merlin were preoccupied. “I’ll be back before anyone even notices! Plus, the barrier was already breached, so everyone’s attention is on Piper.”
With one last glance at the empty doorway, Fiona slipped out through the cracked window. She flew low, keeping close to the building and road before transferring to the water, staying within the mist that clung to the surface. Her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
What if I just get swallowed by a fish? That would be worse than getting kidnapped by the Scarlet Hand! In fact, what if there are magical fish now that feast on fairies? I may be a Mythickin Fairy, but there are other fairies out there, too… Poor fairies. Maybe I should try to do something for the little people.
The thought made her laugh despite her nerves. She created a thin shield of air around herself, just in case any hungry fish were lurking below. Fiona debated stopping and grabbing one of the new Water-based illusion Feats available to her to remain undetected, but no one seemed to notice her.
As she approached the massive roots of the World Tree, the pull grew stronger. She could feel a pulse emanating from within, like a heartbeat that synchronized with her own. And there was something else—a sound she couldn’t quite make out, like someone crying in the distance.
She’s a girl… The tree, or something attached to it? Maybe both? I really get the weeping willow vibes from her, and it’s growing lower the closer I get.
Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest, responding to the raw emotion in that ethereal cry. Hovering just above the water, she stared at the shimmering moss that clung to the ancient-looking bark. She could sense the potent, raw magical essence emanating from it that drew into the collective of the colossal entity.
She is alive…and tied to someone else, like a dryad? No, a nymph? That feels right… Something tragically beautiful…
Without thinking, she reached out and touched one of the roots.
Something foreign pulsed from an unbearably far distance; she felt it instantaneously connect her palm to the distant access point—a layline.
Sugar muffins… Was this a trap?
The world dissolved around her.
When her vision cleared, Fiona found herself in a vast underground chamber. She felt…split, as if in two places at once.
Torches lined the walls, casting eerie shadows across stone steps that led up to... something she couldn’t quite make out. Symbols were carved into the floor and walls—occult patterns that made her skin crawl.
Yup. Yikes. Yikes, yikes, yikes… You really did it now, Fi. The whistle? She glanced left and right. No whistle. Shoot… And what in Rachel’s misfortunate name have I stumbled into?!
Her gaze fell on the center of the chamber, where dozens of unconscious bodies lay sprawled on the floor. They were naked, some clearly intoxicated, others possibly drugged. The air reeked of incense and something darker, more primal.
And there, standing in the middle of it all, was a hooded figure, totally concealed from view.
Fiona’s instincts kicked in immediately. She summoned her ice magic, hair shifting to a crystalline blue as she prepared to attack. Her fingertips crackled with frost—
But when she released the spell, nothing happened. The ice didn’t form.
No, it did form…just not here, because this wasn’t where her real body was.
She’d been transported here via astral projection.
Disoriented, she felt her vision become hazy as the figure moved toward her, a smile in his masculine voice, as if he’d been expecting her. She couldn’t understand him but his action put her on high alert—he reached out and playfully poked her nose. His finger passed right through her air shield, as if it weren’t there at all—right through her.
“Relax, little Fairy Queen, or should I say unawakened queen?” Crowley asked, his voice smooth as silk. “You’re not really here. Not physically, at least.”
Behind him, Fiona could hear chanting from deeper within the chamber, a rhythmic drone that seemed to vibrate through her very being. They were channeling the layline energy with the root of the World Tree.
“What is this place?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. “You…kidnapped me?! Is this a kidnapping?! I should have known you’d do something dirty like set a trap with a tree that is calling out for help—someone only I could hear.”
“Hmm? No, nothing like a trap, and perhaps…kidnapping is a tad harsh. I’ve done nothing to you,” he replied, spreading his hands before pulling off his hood to reveal the handsome man who hid underneath. “Take this as a good gesture. My name is Crowely, Aleister Crowley. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Fiona’s lips parted in disbelief. Crowley. Not a Crowley. Not a weird cultist wannabe quoting old books or sniffing incense too hard. This was The Crowley, mixed with historical and pop-cultural fanfare… That was dangerous.
Images of the man’s legends from school flooded Fiona’s memory, all of them painting a rather terrifying picture when included in The Oscillation. The one they joked about in conspiracy theories in class—except this wasn’t a joke.
He was the occult’s boogeyman wrapped in silk and scandal. Summoner of gods. Breaker of minds. Cult leader. Religious founder. UK sex icon of the early 20th century.
The one who supposedly died three separate times, each more theatrical than the last. One rumor she’d heard claimed he’d resurrected in 1983, wearing only a fox mask and nothing else, whispering prophecy into the ears of a cult that immediately vanished. Another school rumor claimed he’d made a pact with something beneath the Vatican.
And now here was the Legend of Crowley, in front of her, all smiles and charm, like he’d just stepped off a stage where he’d sacrificed reason itself.
“Right,” she said, swallowing the chill crawling up her spine, “Crowley. The one they say married a demon, divorced an angel, and summoned his own shadow just to win an argument.”
Her hands twitched with muscle memory—she wanted to blow that whistle now, she wanted her frost spears, she wanted anything real—but astral projection denied her even the satisfying snap of ice across her fingers.
Instead, she settled for a glare sharp enough to cut through ritual circles.
“I’m not interested in tea, talk, or whatever trick you’re playing, bud,” she snapped, keeping her voice flat. “So if you dragged me here for a reason, spit it out before I figure out how to make you feel pain in the spirit realm or how to get back.”
The chanting behind him pulsed—World Tree, leyline resonance, magic so old it tasted like starlight dust and bone-deep memory tickling her tongue. Whatever they were doing, she was part of it. Tied to it somehow.
Her gaze flicked to the hood discarded at his feet. “Let me guess. This is where you say I’m special. Chosen. Touched by fate, blah blah fate-laced destiny stuff. No, wait, you said I’m an ‘unawakened’ fairy queen. So that’s your angle. You know how cliché that is?”
And still—her body trembled. Not visibly. Just deep in her chest, where her instincts screamed: Predator. Selv, what I wouldn’t give for you to be here, or Maria… Why do I always end up in these situations?!
“Charming. But that’s beside the point,” he waved off, directing her toward a giant table with some kind of rectangular-shaped thing on it, covered by a sheet. “Skipping past all the bravado and visions of fear you no doubt are feeling, I have something to show you. Something I believe you’d be very interested to see. And you can leave at any time. It isn’t as if I can do anything to you in this astral projected state, so…why not indulge yourself?”
He held up his hands as if taking a picture to frame his face, flashing his teeth. “Just discovering it is me who is working with the Scarlet Hand is a colossal win for you. Is it not?”
Fiona glared at him, wings vibrating with how arrogant and yet true that statement was. “I think I’m good staying right where I’m at. I can see it just fine from here. You’re most definitely leading me into a trap.”
Crowley’s smile never wavered. “Well, your sister will be disappointed that you want to shout at her from a distance instead of talking to her face to face. It is hard for her to recognize voices as it is in her current form but I’ve tried to accommodate for that.”
The words hit Fiona like a physical blow, her wings froze mid-beat and the hair on the back of her neck rising with emotion. “Nora? You kidnapped my sister?! Nora, does he have you in there?!” she shouted, having to catch herself before flying right into the sheet.
No, this could be a trap! Don’t be stupid. She’s in Ireland. It’s sealed with crazy magic! But…this is the Scarlet Hand, after all…
Crowley turned and began walking deeper into the chamber, toward the table. She noticed a misty portal forming on one of the roots that stretched into the chamber to her back. The moment she laid eyes on it, she felt the answers bubbling up within her as if she knew this magic her entire life—a path back to where she’d come from, back to safety.
I can leave…but if I do, I’ll be wondering if Nora really is here. And what if he does something to her because I reject him? I…can’t leave without knowing for sure. Dammit!
She cursed internally, the word feeling like sin that spread through her but the stress was eating her alive.
Nora…
With a heavy heart, Fiona turned away from the escape route and kept her gaze on the man as he clarified.
“You could say I kidnapped her from Balor. Well, he was close to getting your sister but our contracted hunter was able to get to her first. She’s…not the same after The Oscillation, Fiona. She’s scared you’ll judge her.”
“W-What? Why would I—don’t play with me!” she seethed, anger rising and [Warpath] coming dangerously close to activating. “What's wrong with Nora? Quit playing games with me and give me a straight answer! What have you done to my little sister?”
“I’ve done nothing to your sister,” Crowley coolly returned, directing her through a random archway between them and the table. “I had to go through quite the ordeal to set all of this up. For her to remain in a more…acceptable state, you’ll need to go through this to provide her an anchor. I promise you this, and I am a man of my word, that all of this is for her benefit and does nothing to harm you. The Oscillation affected Nora quite differently than it did you, my fair lady, I’m afraid.”
He pulled the sheet off, and at its center of a large, tinted glass container, was something dark that moved within, pressing against the glass occasionally.
“That…can’t be Nora,” Fiona mumbled, eyes going big and body going numb at the sight. “A slime? A black ooze? What…happened? You did this!”
“No, I did not, and you can confirm it with her yourself, if you so choose to engage her. I can only keep her in a solid form for a short time by myself, yet you have the latent power capable of triggering a far greater blessing. You see…
“After The Oscillation, your sister transformed into something…unexpected, even for us,” Crowley explained, his voice taking on a scholarly tone. “A unique sort of Aberrationkin—quite rare, actually. It speaks to how you were able to obtain your Greater Seed. In fact, hers has the potential to be even greater. But her form became unstable, her hunger insatiable.”
“You’re lying,” Fiona shouted, but her voice trembled as the green and red-mixed dust flowing off her wings flurried. “The Oscillation changes us into what we most deeply want, good and bad, but Nora is amazing! She would never become a blob like that! If something was wrong, she’d find a way to get a hold of me. Balor didn’t activate his spell right after The Oscillation. There was time, if it was really bad.”
The darkness within recoiled, twisting and turning around itself as Crowley sighed, shaking his head.
“So self-absorbed,” Crowley whispered. “Why would she call you, Fiona? So she could once again spend her life in your shadow? After watching you become a magical fairy princess while she became…this, you expect her to call you?”
The mass of black slime, undulating and shifting folded inward as he directed her attention to it again, pressing his hand against the glass. A symbol illuminated. Then, a change happened. Fiona watched in horror as the slime gathered itself, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. Two eyes opened in what might have been a face—and they were Nora’s eyes, filled with pain and confusion.
“Nora?” Fiona whispered, flying around the archway to reach the glass. “Nora, is that you? It can’t be…”
The slime pressed against the glass, forming what might have been a hand. The eyes—Nora’s eyes—blinked once, then twice.
“She can’t speak in this form,” Crowley chided, his voice softening with what sounded like genuine sympathy. “But, as I said, there are ways to help her be…more human, I should preface. One way is that archway but I can give you a short moment with my own preparations. This will only work once before all the energy we’ve gathered is drained. After all, we’re working against the Eldritch.”
He touched a series of symbols etched into the glass. The container glowed briefly, and the slime began to shift more deliberately, forming a more recognizable shape—a teenage girl, though still made entirely of the black substance.
“F-Fi?” The voice was garbled, as if speaking through liquid, but unmistakably Nora’s.
Tears gathering in Fiona’s eyes.
“Oh, Nora!” Fiona pressed her tiny hands against the glass, which slid right through to pass into her sister’s—she felt nothing. “What happened to you? Mom, Dad… Why did this happen? Tell me they did it! I’ll find a way to fix you. I promise! Just tell me—”
The slime-girl’s features twisted in what might have been pain or anger. “Fix it? Tell you? Crowley gave me my voice back, not you! He saved me from hurting anyone! He didn’t do this to me, Fi, he saved me! And how could I have? Ireland’s been cut off for weeks! And before that…before that, I didn’t want you to know. To see me like this. For Mom and Dad to see me like this! B-Because I might have eaten them… I can’t, Fi! I can’t! You did this to me!”
Liquid fell down Fiona’s cheeks at her sister’s biting words.
“Me? B-But how could I have—no, The Oscillation. Look at me! It changed me, too… I could have helped you!”
“Hah! Like you’ve always helped me?” The bitterness in Nora’s voice made Fiona flinch; her voice was becoming stronger with emotion. “Always saving the day, always being perfect. The untouchable queen Fiona, who everyone loves.”
“T-That’s not fair,” Fiona protested, though guilt stabbed through her. “Nora, I thought… This isn’t like you—”
“Not like me?! Because look at me! Of course it’s not me, because you never got to know the real me! Life isn’t fair, and I know that better than you ever could, but now you won’t even acknowledge I am your sister? That’s cold, Fi… Even for you,” Nora replied, her form rippling with emotion. “Look at me! I’m a monster! And you—you got to be a pretty fairy! Even the universe loves you more!”
Fiona’s wings drooped. “Nora, I…I don’t understand. I didn’t choose this. They must have poisoned your mind.”
“No, my mind is clearer than it’s been since The Oscillation. Crowley gave me that. Adele gave me that. Not you. You did this to me.” The slime surged against the glass, then retreated as she began to deform and distort. “But here we are, and once again, they say you have to solve all my problems…when you are all my problems.”
Crowley cleared his throat as Fiona began to hiccup, hugging herself. “Please, Nora, be kinder to your sister. She truly doesn’t know.”
“That’s the problem! It’s always her show. The whole town, Mom, Dad, everything revolves around her—even when she left. It’s all anyone talked about. Did you see how well Fi is doing in the States? Did you see how big she’s getting? She’s doing songs with big artists… I’m so sick of it. Of not existing, of being the ugly, mess of a sister who might as well never existed!”
“Nora, please…” Fiona choked. “This… What am I supposed to do? Why are you saying this?”
“Ahem, I should explain that your sister was found in quite a desperate state, Fiona. She’s…been through a very rough last few weeks. You must give her time. She had consumed several animals—a cat, I believe, and some birds—and was unable to maintain human consciousness for long. We’ve been helping her stay…herself.”
“We?” Fiona asked, suspicion returning and heat rising in her voice. “The Scarlet Hand, you mean? You’re using my sister to get to me! This is cruel! Why would I help—”
“No, you’re the cruel one, Fi,” Nora shouted back, surging back to the glass and making her retreat a little in shock. “You never thought about me! It was always about you—your image—everyone praising you. Every boy that got close to me really wanted you! Every meal I had with Mom and Dad was about you! The whole universe revolves around little perfect Fiona! My face isn’t as nice as yours, my body—nothing!”
Fiona’s tongue felt cut from her mouth. How could she respond to that—to the raw hate in her own sister’s eyes. This…wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nora…really hates me?
“Girls, girls,” Crowley smoothly interjected, “tensions are high. And I’d prefer to think of this as mutual aid, Nora. You must understand that your sister does love you. She’ll help us to maintain your humanity.”
Feeling small and as if stuck in a blizzard, Fiona hugged herself and glanced off to the side, “And what, in return for helping Nora, I assist you with certain…projects or something?”
“Oh quit with the bullshit, Fi,” Nora snapped. “They’re the only ones who’ve been able to help me. They found me in Ireland, starving, out of control. They brought me here, gave me a way to talk again, food that I can accept—to think like a human again.”
Fiona hovered uncertainly, torn between distrust of the Scarlet Hand and the desperate need to help her sister—to understand her sister’s emotional outburst. “There have to be other ways to help you, Nora. We could ask Rachel, or Maria—”
“The unicorn I heard about who would take one look at me and want to purge me since I’m somehow connected to Eldritch forces?” Nora interrupted. “Or Rachel, who has so many of her own problems she can’t even stay conscious for a week, as far as I’ve heard? Face it, Fi. No one cares about me like they care about you!
“They’ve shown me all your amazing friends and all of them have their own problems to worry about. Some random slime girl isn’t going to keep Anthony from going back to Ireland, and he’s the leader, right? I’m just…collateral damage. ‘Save’ me from the bad guys, and then just leave me in a cage to rot until you have time for me. That sounds about right,” she mumbled, hiccups now escaping her throat as silver ooze dripped out of her eye.
“No! That’s not true,” Fiona insisted, though doubt crept into her voice. “We can figure something out… General Dallas—I have the whole US government that could be helping me. We have connections, Nora. We don’t need to rely on the Scarlet—Nora? Nora! Bring her back!”
Crowley stepped closer, his voice gentle as she dissolved, pain showing across her little sister’s face. “The spell that allows your sister to maintain human form only lasted for so long. Even if you go through the archway, it will be a drain on you and will only last so long before breaking. But we can help her—permanently—with your assistance.”
“My assistance?” Fiona's wings fluttered nervously, the desperation of the situation carving into her soul. They weren’t entirely wrong, and Rachel would be going into the Crystal soon. The US was dealing with a massive crisis. Ireland itself was their original goal and needed saving—millions of people. Nora…wouldn’t be a priority. “What…do you mean?”
A woman’s voice interrupted. “Hello, Fiona, I apologize for putting you in such a challenging situation. This isn’t how I wanted our first meeting to go.”
She turned, spotting who she could only assume was Adele—Scarlet’s mother, the leader of the Scarlet Hand. Her dark hair was tied up into a work bun and she looked…normal, sympathetic, even.
“To make a long story short, your pixie dust has unique properties,” she explained, walking up to the glass and running a hand along its length. “As hard as it may be for you to believe. We can be of help to one another, and no one has to get hurt. With your assistance…no one has to get hurt. You have the latent power. Combined with certain rituals, it could stabilize your sister’s form and save the World Tree from the dragon who gnaws at its roots.”
Ignoring the latter part, Fiona focused on her sister. If what Rachel believed was true, and from what she’d read between the lines, then Scarlet’s mother wasn’t a bad woman. She may be involved in bad things, but it was all for Scarlet, or so she believed. Crowley was another story, but Adele had something she could use to make a decision.
“And…you can help her return to being human—to be normal? Can you promise me on Scarlet’s life—on your love for Scarlet—that you truly want to help me? That you won’t harm anyone with my help…and that I can tell everyone about this?”
Adele’s gaze became somewhat somber. “I’m afraid telling the others will cause problems for us both, Fiona. I’m sure you realize that. Merlin is sharp and requires things we stole from him in order to further his own goals. He isn’t as pure as you might think, but everyone has their own agenda. Crowley here has his own, as well.”
“Figures,” she bitterly mumbled, rubbing her cheeks and looking at her desperate sister. “You’re trapping me with this… Forcing me to betray Omen.”
“Not necessarily,” Adele returned with a far more gentle smile than she would have expected. “Allow me to clarify that you can be our enemy, Fiona. You can reveal our location and march against us…but only after we have saved your sister. And when I say save, what I mean is not that she will return to normal, because that is impossible. But you can help her shift between human and…other states at will, rather than being trapped as she is now.”
Fiona glanced between Crowley and Adele, a screw twisting into her gut. “So, what you’re saying is that you get what you need by helping me save my little sister… I’ll be furthering your goals, but it will save her. And then it’s a race to see if we can stop you in time?”
“In essence,” Crowley chortled, performing a flourish with his robes. “It is a grand play, fit to be viewed by Thelema herself! Life will flow from the roots, and Her glory will be revealed for all to be in awe of her mercy. We open the way to imagination!”
“Right… And what would I have to do?” Fiona tentatively asked, her voice small.
“Nothing terrible,” Crowley assured her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Simply work with us. Help us understand the World Tree. She’s in pain, you know. Where the dragon is that we must slay! I’m sure your own Kaiju friend would be inclined to offer our pained tree her…assistance, as the hero she is! We believe our path forward also is connected to your native Ireland—perhaps even a key to breaking Balor’s cursed wall to allow in the calvary.”
Fiona looked back at her sister, whose form was already destabilized, the humanoid shape melting back into formless slime. Her sister’s voice was fading, one last message. “F-Fi… I’m scared. I’m sorry. I’m just… D-Don’t trust them completely. But…but they’re the only ones who’ve helped me. Please… I don’t know what to do…”
The slime collapsed entirely, the eyes disappearing last. Fiona pressed her forehead against the glass, tears streaming down her face.
“I’ll save you, Nora,” she whispered. “I promise.”
She turned to face Crowley and Adele, who was watching her with calculating eyes. “I need to think about this. I need to talk to Anthony and the others… Not tell them about you, but just…talk to them—work through my thoughts.”
“Of course,” Crowley nodded, Adele remaining silent now. “But remember—the Scarlet Hand was planning to kidnap you. That plan changed when we discovered your sister’s condition. This plan has been in the works since before you were born, my dear. There are other…branches that might not have gotten the memo.”
Perfect…
Fiona didn’t answer. She looked around and saw the misty portal still shimmering on the root. “I…have a hard decision to make. I need to go back.”
“The choice is yours,” Crowley said, stepping aside. “If you choose to betray our trust, then…” Adele interrupted him.
“We will leave Nora here for you to collect when you inevitably raid this castle. But know that we really do want to help you, and we are your best option. Maria cannot cure her because…this is Nora’s current state. She needs to evolve into something more…and we know how to make that happen.”
“Okay…”
Fiona flew toward the portal after one last glance at her sister, feeling her heart being torn out of her chest. The slime pressed against the glass once more, forming what might have been a handprint.
I’ll be back soon, Nora… I promise. I’m sorry for whatever I did… I’m so sorry.
She flew into the portal, and the world dissolved once more.
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