Necessary Sacrifice
Cinder leapt from rooftop to rooftop, bounding over the tiles and wood of Freeport on her way towards the Tower of the Sun.
The sun was rising now, though Cinder paid it little heed except to curse the fact that night’s embrace had not endured for longer and covered her with its dark shroud. But, as much as she might have wished for the cover of darkness, she would not stop for dawn’s early light; the sun would not halt her progress. There were few enough eyes about the town at this hour to see her, even if the light that stole upon the streets did make her a little more visible.
She would take the risk. She risked much more than this already, and there came a point at which detection was all but certain, so why be afraid of it?
There were so many other things in Freeport to be afraid of.
Not that Cinder was afraid. No, she would not claim to be fearless; she might have, in times past, but that had always been more bluster than honesty, and such talk… she no longer saw the need for it. She had forgotten the need for it, although she had also forgotten why she had forgotten the need. Perhaps Sunset Shimmer had something to do with it, and the memories had been stolen from her.
In any case, Cinder would not claim that she felt no fear, as she was to about mount a single-handed assault against the Sun Queen’s fortress – and to do so, what was more, without either an ample supply of dust or half a maiden’s power to fall back on. But it was not the dominant emotion burning in her breast; she would not shrink from fear because the fear she felt, the chill of dread around her heart, was buried beneath the inferno of wrath that blazed in her breast.
She knew this anger well. It was an old, familiar companion to her, and right now, it was very welcome. This was the anger that had murdered her stepmother and stepsisters, this was the anger that had driven her across the wilds of Mistral with no one to rely on but herself, this was the anger that had allowed her to triumph over adversity time and again.
This anger had kept her alive, and it would do so again now.
Because she was very, very angry. The Sun Queen had stolen her memories, violated the sanctity of her mind, left her fragile sense of self in tatters… and she had done so in order to make Cinder forget someone precious to her, someone to whom she apparently owed much, perhaps everything.
The Sun Queen had made a grave mistake giving Cinder so much cause for enmity, as she would shortly discover, to her grave cost. She had ripped away at Cinder’s mind, and in so doing, she had revealed what had been there before all the changes that Cinder no longer remembered.
She was about to face Cinder Fall in all her glory, and she had no one to blame but herself.
It was true that Cinder was no longer the Fall Maiden – something else for which she had Sunset to thank – but she had not been Maiden when she had faced Amber, and by the time the dust settled, the Fall Maiden had been helpless and at Cinder’s mercy.
She would fight her way through this great tower, she would strike down anyone who got in her way, and then, she would promise to spare the Queen’s life in exchange for the return of Sunset Shimmer and Cinder’s memories.
And then she would kill the Queen, as she had killed Merlot despite her promise, because some things were beyond her capacity for forgiveness.
Some things demanded bloody retribution.
Cinder’s face was set in a snarl, her visage a mask of wrath more terrible than any grimm’s bleached and bony skull, as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop until, at last, she stood upon the roof of an inn just beyond the half-ruined walls that encompassed the tower.
Two guards upon the door. More inside, no doubt. No matter; she had seen these Rangers fight at King’s Camp, and they were nothing special. In a wild land filled with barbarians, even a modest fighting force could make an outsized impact – the third-rate can seem first-rate when up against fifth-rate opposition – but she was Cinder Fall. Even without the powers of the Fall Maiden, she was still Cinder Fall, and they would scatter like leaves before her.
Cinder knelt down upon the rooftop; they had not seen her. Sloppy, they were hardly paying any attention at all. Did they imagine themselves safe? Was the Queen’s rule so secure that here, in her own city, she felt no dread of any enemy? Perhaps, but that overconfidence would be her downfall. That, and her presumption that she could so cavalierly deal with Cinder thus.
If you wished to harm me, then you should have killed me, for being injured but alive, I will revenge myself.
Cinder held out one hand. Shards of glass twisted in the air, swirling around an invisible centre, glowing white hot as they fused together to form a bow of black glass. It was momentarily warm, like a burning fire dust crystal pressed against her palm, heat that warmed her but from which she took no harm. The heat soon died, the moment of fire soon passed, but Cinder relished it regardless. As she had been, as Salem had made her, she would not have felt such heat. There had been nothing but cold, and the feeling of the grimm essence slowly devouring her.
Now she was human again, able to taste, able to touch, able to burn if she willed it so, for all that her semblance would protect her.
It seemed that she owed Sunset Shimmer that. A debt she might repay this morning.
If you are dead, then I will avenge you; if you are alive, then I will rescue you… and find out who you are to me when my memories are restored.
A glass arrow formed in Cinder’s hand, nocked to the string of her bow. Cinder drew back, her breathing steady.
She relaxed the string without loosing the arrow, releasing the tension built up in the bow even as she kept the shaft in hand. She relaxed because she had sensed someone coming, her aura and the enhanced senses it provided warning her of the approach of someone from behind. Cinder retreated into the lee of the roof, concealing herself from the view of the sentries at the tower doors even as she turned around to see who approached her.
It was Ruby, travelling in a cloud of rose petals so dense that Cinder had lost all sight of Ruby herself, or perhaps Ruby was the petal cloud; it might be so – semblances did evolve, after all, and Cinder had seen her do much the same at King’s Camp. In any case, the petal cloud dispersed, the petals vanishing into the ether, and Ruby stood upon the rooftop, crouched down, silver eyes boring into Cinder’s gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Cinder replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you, obviously,” Ruby said. “I saw you leave, and then you started jumping over rooftops, and why? Why would you travel like that, and why do you have your weapon?”
“I’m a warrior; why would I be without my weapons?” Cinder demanded, noting without saying that Ruby had Crescent Rose strapped across her back.
Ruby scowled. “You know what I’m talking about; what are you doing?”
“You need to go,” Cinder insisted. “Go back to the Tower of the Moon, rouse your father, and wait until either I return or Torchwick takes command.”
“Torchwick?” Ruby hissed. “Why would Torchwick take command? What about Cardin?”
“Has Cardin led this company from Vale?” Cinder demanded. “Have I?”
Ruby blinked rapidly. “I… you, more than Cardin,” she admitted. “But… that doesn’t feel right either. Why would you be our leader? Shouldn’t I…?” She shook her head vigorously. “What does any of this have to do with you being on the roof with a bow? What are you up to?”
“Go back,” Cinder snapped. “Go back and leave me to my work.”
“Not until you tell me what you’re doing,” Ruby declared. One hand began to reach towards Crescent Rose.
“I am not your enemy, Ruby,” Cinder insisted. “I have not been your enemy these months past.” She hesitated. “If… if you would look for enemies, then look towards the tower yonder. Does the name Sunset Shimmer mean anything to you?”
“No,” Ruby said. “Should it?”
“According to Princess Twilight Sparkle, yes,” Cinder replied. “Who led Team Sapphire?”
“Jaune,” Ruby said instantly. “No, Pyrrha.”
“Then why was it named Team Sapphire?” Cinder demanded. “Why not Team Apricot, or Team Pear? Who was your fourth member?”
“We didn’t have one,” Ruby said. “We… I guess we must have been strong enough that we didn’t need a fourth teammate.”
“Not according to Twilight Sparkle,” Cinder said. “For that matter, how did we even learn of Princess Twilight and Equestria?”
“The book.”
“How did we come by it?”
“I… why are you asking me these questions, and what does it have to do with you about to attack our friends?”
“Because someone has stolen our memories of a pony named Sunset Shimmer; that is why I can’t remember what I’m doing here or why I no longer serve evil,” Cinder declared. “My memories have been violated, all our memories have been violated, and the companion that we have forgotten has been held or killed or both.”
“How is that even possible?” Ruby demanded.
“Equestrian magic?” Cinder suggested. “Or else a semblance, perhaps. I do not know the answer yet. Rest assured I will wrench the truth from the throat of this Sun Queen before the end.”
“No!” Ruby gasped. “No, you can’t just storm in there because you think they’ve done something wrong, because you have a few memories missing.”
“Twilight has told me what memories I am missing, and I trust the Equestrian princess a sight more than I trust the Sun Queen.”
“Let me go down there,” Ruby said. “Let me to talk to Sunsprite-”
“I do not trust your cousin, for all her pious cant,” Cinder snapped. “I am sorry, Ruby, but these people are not our friends. They have done us wrong.”
“You think they have, and because you think so, you’re going to attack them?” Ruby demanded.
“Yes!” Cinder snarled. “They will have their lives at my hand, and they will bring that end upon themselves! I have asked myself who I am, since leaving Salem’s service. I have wondered what I could be when I was not a finger upon the hand of my mistress. I do not know whether I was finding my way to answer that question, but I do know that they have torn away at my mind, ripped to shreds my sense of self, and left the threads of who I am fluttering like ribbons in a storm. Very well. I grasp the strongest thread that remains to me, and since I cannot prove to be aught else, let me prove such a villain that their hearts tremble before my wrath! I am Cinder Fall, and I shall pay in blood all those who trespass against me.” She breathed in between clenched teeth, her chest rising and falling. “Go back to the tower, Ruby,” she urged. “Go back and let me take this sin upon my shoulders.”
Ruby’s hand hovered in place, not touching Crescent Rose but not far from it, either. “I can’t let you do that,” she said. “I can’t just let you start a fight based on what Princess Twilight said and the fact that you don’t feel yourself right now.”
Honestly, I feel more myself than I have done for quite some time. “And I won’t let you stop me, Ruby Rose,” she said solemnly. “My memories are there, and I’m going to take them back.”
The two stared into each other’s eyes. Neither said another word.
At this point, there were no more words left to be said.
Ruby reached for Crescent Rose, but Cinder was quicker off the mark, catching Ruby across the jaw with a spinning kick that sent her flying, knocking the girl in the red cloak off the rooftop and set her crashing down into the street below, forming a crater as the earth buckled beneath her.
That won’t hold her for long, Cinder thought. I need to move quickly.
She still had her bow in her hands, still had the arrow nocked; she drew back quickly as she emerged into view of the guards upon the door and let fly.
The glass arrow flew swift and straight and true, burying itself in the throat of one of the guards.
Cinder leapt, and as she leapt, she nocked another arrow, drew back, let fly. The remaining guard was struck in the chest as he tried to raise the alarm. He fell back, slumping down the tower wall, his gun falling from his hands to clatter on the ground.
Not that it would have mattered if he had managed to raise the alarm; Cinder had no intention of being stealthy.
She had loosed again before she hit ground, burying two glass shafts in the wooden door, both of them near the lock. As Cinder began to spring across the open ground towards the door, she dashed through the ruined curtain wall; the arrows heated up, hotter and hotter, until smoke began to rise from the wooden doorframe.
The arrows exploded, taking with them the lock on the door and a good chunk of the wood and the surrounding stone as well. Cinder forced herself to run even faster, her legs pounding upon the stone, and as she ran, a savage grin appeared upon her face.
Yes, she was angry; yes, she had been done wrong; yes, she would avenge that wrong in blood, but at the same time, she had missed this. All the uncertainty, all the doubt, it was all behind her now. She knew who she was now, and though she was as black as filth and twice as wretched, at least she knew. The ground felt solid beneath her feet once more.
It was a mistake, My Queen, to make an enemy of me.
Cinder kicked down the charred and blackened door and strode inside, still wearing that grim smile upon her face. A guard rushed down the staircase; Cinder shot him before he could finish crying out. Another emerged from the door to the side, and Cinder shot him too. A young woman with a rifle stood in that same doorway and fired; Cinder couldn’t just stop bullets any more, but she deflected the round with her bow before splitting it into two scimitars with which she charged, closing the distance between her and her adversary, burying one sword in the woman’s gut. Either these people had no auras or else they were so fragile that but a single hit was sufficient to break them.
Cinder turned swords whirling through the air to parry a blast from Crescent Rose. Ruby stood in the doorway, her crimson scythe unfurled, barrel pointed at Cinder.
“Cinder, stop!” Ruby commanded. “This ends now!”
Blood stained the glass of Cinder’s blades. “This has only just begun,” Cinder replied. “You’ll understand when I’ve done what I have to do.”
Ruby scowled. “I should never have trusted you.”
Cinder didn’t reply. Ruby’s words bounced off her aura with little effect; if Ruby didn’t trust her now, then so what? She would believe when Cinder restored everyone’s memories; for now, it didn’t matter what she thought while under the influence of Freeport’s magic and her self-righteous cousin.
She would see that Cinder had been right all along; for now, all that mattered was that she not get in Cinder’s way.
Cinder lunged for her. Ruby fired once more, and once more, Cinder deflected the round away. Ruby charged to meet her, swinging Crescent Rose, or trying to; it was really too narrow for it here, and to be frank, Ruby was not the best at fighting people rather than grimm. Cinder got inside her guard and kicked her in the gut twice, knocking her to the ground and into the wall. Crescent Rose fell from her hands, and Cinder kicked it away.
“Stay down,” she said, “and stay out of my way.”
A Ranger with an antique submachine gun appeared at the top of the stairs; with a wordless yell, he opened fire – on Ruby.
Ruby squeaked in alarm as she dove for cover, rose petals trailing behind her as she sought to escape the bullets that sprayed across the room. “No! Wait, I’m trying to help!”
The Ranger with the machine gun didn’t believe her. Cinder wouldn’t have believed her either.
But she couldn’t let him actually hurt Ruby, so she buried a blade in his throat and threw his body down the stairs before she strutted up said stairs, bellowing for the queen to come out and answer for her crimes.
She felt… she felt ecstatic. It was wrong, but it felt so, so right at the same time. She felt like one of the heroes of the Mistraliad, divine by parentage and by mortal men exalted, raging amongst the ranks of lesser men in an aristeia to be sung of for generations yet to come. Men fell before like ears of corn before the reaper come harvest time; they came at her with rifles and submachine guns, with spears and swords and crossbows, and she withstood them all; she better than withstood them, she laid them low, every man and woman, every mother’s son and daughter, she painted the Tower of the Sun as red as the early morning light that fell upon Freeport even as she danced her way amongst its chambers. With blade and bow and her feet as swift as wind and deadly as the thunderbolt from heaven, she struck down all who opposed her. They came in waves; they tried to hold chokepoints, but they could not stay her. They could not even slow her down. She was Cinder Fall, and she was inexorable.
Ruby kept trying to stop her. Ruby pursued her, firing with Crescent Rose, trying to cry out to any who would listen that she was on their side, that she had nothing to do with Cinder, that she was a part of Freeport now.
They didn’t listen. They treated Ruby just as they treated Cinder, who often found herself both trying to protect Ruby from the Rangers of Freeport and defend herself from Ruby.
But it didn’t matter. She was better than Ruby in close quarters, much better, and she could take her on as easily as any of the rest of them.
Cinder was only worried what would happen when Ruby’s aura broke; she wasn’t trying to hurt Ruby, but even shoving her aside, kicking her away, all of that was bound to be taking its toll upon the other girl’s aura. When it broke, would she be sensible enough to back down? Would she be able to escape if she did wish to back down?
But what other choice did Cinder have? She had gone too far now, made her choice, just as Ruby had made hers; if she stopped fighting, then Ruby would kill her as surely as these Freeport guards; more surely, because for all her faults, she was better trained than they were, especially once she stopped trying to use her scythe and restricted herself to the carbine mode of her cumbersome weapon.
All she could do, as she raged throughout the Tower of the Sun, cutting down all who stood in her way, was hope that she could get everyone’s memories back before that happened.
Of course, as Ruby drew on her, the question was very present and not at all academic. How much aura did Ruby have left? How many free shots could Cinder give her before her own aura was threatened? They stood alone in a storage chamber halfway up the tower, littered with chests and barrels that Cinder had not looked inside; an oil lamp had fallen to the floor, starting a fire not far away from Cinder; it did not look likely to spread too far, or else Cinder hoped to be gone before it did.
Burning this place until a blasted shell was all that remained had a certain appeal, provided that Ruby didn’t find some way to die in the fire.
Ruby had Cinder dead to rights, her finger was on the trigger, but as Cinder looked her way, her mind furiously pondering whether it was safe – for Ruby – to fight back, a gasp of shock burst out of Ruby’s mouth, her eyes widening, her already fair face paling yet further.
Cinder did not have to wait long to wait until she found out what had so shocked Ruby.
“Cinder. I might have known that you’d be the one causing all of this commotion. You always were about as subtle as a goliath. That was one of the few things I liked about you.” Cackling laughter followed.
The fire of exultation burning within Cinder guttered and began to die. “Tyrian,” she said, turning her back on Ruby to face him. It was indeed Tyrian Callows, looking somewhat uglier than she had seen him last, his face scarred and pitted – presumably by Taiyang’s knuckles – but otherwise much the same. He stood in the same hunched manner, his back bent, his scorpion tail poised to strike above him, his clawed gauntlets at the ready.
Tyrian kept on laughing. She hated the sound of his laughter; she always had, even in Salem’s service; it was too cutting, too mocking. In a strange way, it reminded her of her stepsister Philonoe, always laughing at Cinder, always thinking little of her, never believing that, one day, the object of her mockery would rise and bite back.
Cinder had planned to kill Tyrian. Once she had become the Fall Maiden, once she had brought back the Relic of Choice and laid it before Salem’s throne, then she had meant to burn the little scorpion from the inside out, secure in the knowledge that, for her great service, Salem would give her anything, even the death of her pet.
But she was not the Fall Maiden. She was only Cinder Fall, and being Cinder Fall, she was not certain she could withstand him.
Don’t think like that! You must never think like that! You are Cinder Fall, and being Cinder, you will make all your enemies fall before you.
That was much easier to believe when all my enemies were dross.
Tyrian cocked his head to one side, as much like a bird as a scorpion. “And you brought me a rose as well, how thoughtful of you. I didn’t know you cared.”
“It was true,” Ruby whispered. “It was… you were right all along?”
Tyrian sniggered. “I’m afraid the Sun Queen and I have come to an understanding,” he said. “You are to be a sacrifice for the survival of this… charming community.”
Cinder reforged her blades together into a bow of black obsidian. “Go, Ruby,” she commanded. “Run. Get your father, get Cardin, get the others, get them out of Freeport. Go, I’ll hold him off.”
“Hold me off?” Tyrian repeated, his voice incredulous. “Have you forgotten who I am? Have you forgotten who I serve? Do you take me for one of these plastic soldiers?” He smirked. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather run yourself?”
Cinder scowled. “You can make me a corpse, Tyrian, but you cannot make me a coward.” I will not run, I will not bend, I will not cower. I may break, I may fall, but I will resist both until my last breath.
I am beyond submission.
Tyrian laughed. “How noble. How brave.” He laughed once more, softer this time, and a little darker. “How… foolish.”
Ruby did not run. Ruby levelled her carbine and opened fire on Tyrian. Once, twice, three times, Crescent Rose cracked, fire blasting forth from the muzzle. The smile, as wide as a shark’s, did not leave Tyrian’s face as he blocked all the bullets with his tail as though his aura could not be damaged there and sprang for her.
Cinder loosed at him; he shattered the arrow with a single blow from his clawed gauntlets and opened fire on her, making her dive to the ground as his bullets tore at her aura. He fell on Ruby like a wave descending upon the shore; even if Crescent Rose had been fully extended, even if there had been space to wield the scythe, even if all conditions had been optimal for Ruby, he would still have outclassed her. She was the sheep, and he was the wolf, and he caught her as she stumbled backwards, his claws slashing outwards. Ruby cried out in pain as his blades tore at the aura she had left.
Cinder leapt to her feet, loosing another glass arrow. Tyrian reached out one casual hand and idly caught the shaft, a moment before it exploded in his grip.
Sometimes, he could be so predictable.
Cinder charged, her bow transforming into twin blades that glittered in the light of the burning fire. “Ruby, run!” she yelled once more, as she brought both swords down in a slashing stroke aimed at Tyrian’s tail.
The tail darted out of the way; Cinder’s stroke fell on empty air, then it lashed out at her, aiming for Cinder’s eyes, driving her back before Tyrian himself rounded on her.
He slashed at her; she parried both his gauntlets. He fired the guns strapped to his wrists, shattering the glass weapons which then assailed his face like a swarm of knives, slicing through his aura. Cinder leapt up, her whole body spinning as she kicked at Tyrian’s face; the blow connected, but even as his face snapped back, he had the presence of mind to grab Cinder by the ankle and hurl her into the stone wall.
She heard Ruby shriek.
Cinder regained her feet in time to see Ruby’s aura break from a punch to the stomach. She staggered back, winded. There was no blood to be found on her hands, but Cinder feared she would not see it against the red and black of her corset.
Tyrian drew back his tail, a savage look upon his face.
Cinder threw herself forward, between Tyrian and Ruby, taking the jab of the scorpion tail into her gut; she felt her aura shudder beneath the impact and drain away.
Tyrian scowled as he leapt backwards, landing deftly on his feet a short distance away from her. “Do you imagine that I’m going to kill you, Cinder?” he asked. “No, no, I won’t kill you. I will take you back to Castle Evernight and let the Goddess herself show you what happens to those who betray her!”
Cinder pointed one of her glass blades straight at him. “If you want to take me, Tyrian, then come and get me!”
Tyrian sprang at her. Cinder charged at him. They clashed in the centre of the room like two bulls battling for mastery of field and herd. Tyrian caught first one, and then the other of Cinder’s obsidian swords with his wrist blades. He smiled at her. Cinder smiled back, before – remembering her battle with Rainbow Dash in the Emerald Tower – she threw her head forward and butted him with it on the nose, once, twice; he retreated before she could repeat the trick a third time. Cinder pursued, her glass swords singing. Tyrian met her with claws and guns and tail. Glass clashed with metal, sparks flying where the edges met. They lunged and dodged and leapt, slashed and parried, kicked and fired.
Cinder held her own. For now, at least. Like two bulls? No. She was the bull, and he was the lion, and his claws kept getting closer and closer to her, and he hadn’t even used his semblance yet.
But she had to fight. She had to fight for Ruby; she had to fight for herself, for her own pride and her self-respect. She had to fight because to do otherwise would be to admit defeat, and that she did not have it in her to do.
She would not go back to Salem’s torments without a fight.
Her whole body was stained with sweat, her breathing was coming thick and heavy but still, she fought on; she fought on because she couldn’t do anything but fight, because fighting was all that had been left to her. She fought because-
Cinder was struck in the back by something, a powerful blast that tore through her aura and sent her staggering forwards. Tyrian’s smile cut like a knife as he took advantage of her weakness, grabbing her back the neck and throwing her to the ground, breaking her aura as he slammed her into the stone.
Tyrian sniggered. “If you hadn’t given your powers away to the Nikos girl, you might have stood a chance.”
I gave my powers away to Pyrrha? Why would I do that? I don’t even like Pyrrha. “Don’t flatter yourself,” Cinder replied. “You only beat me because you had help.” Her eyes darted leftwards to see who that help was.
The Sun Queen strode into the chamber, attended by Laurel, Ember of the Summer Fire Clan, and Sunsprite Rose in her yellow cloak. The Sun Queen advanced ahead of all of them, her gold mask glimmering in the firelight, her robes swirling around her. She held up one hand, her palm open, and in that hand danced glowing orbs of fiery gold, pale yellow, white surrounded by green and black rimmed with rich purple; the orbs spun lazily above her hand while smaller lights of yellow, red, green, purple, and turquoise orbited them like satellites.
“I thought that I asked you to wait in your room while I attended to all matters,” the Sun Queen said.
Tyrian cackled. “Where would have been the fun in hiding away when there was fighting going on?” he asked. “Thank you for assistance, Your Majesty; it’s nice to see that you are competent, even if your servants aren’t.”
“You’re talking about those who gave their lives for Freeport and the Queen; show some respect!” Laurel snapped.
“My respect is for the living, not for those too incompetent to keep living.”
“Why?” Ruby demanded, her voice soft and quiet, a faint whisper, like thin ice that was about to crack and crumble. “I… you said that I could stay here.”
“I did,” the Sun Queen declared. “And I meant it, at the time. But events move swiftly, and as a queen, I must put the greater good of Freeport ahead of any one person. I cannot put this city of many thousands at risk for the sake of your life.”
Ruby blinked. It was hard to tell, but it seemed that her eyes were starting to fill with tears. “Sunsprite?” she asked.
Sunsprite said nothing. She did not even look at Ruby.
Coward.
“Sunsprite,” Ruby repeated. “Sunsprite, please. We… we’re family.”
“Yes,” Sunsprite admitted, her voice hoarse. “Yes. We are family. But I am also a Ranger of Freeport, and as such, I must serve my queen and the greater good of our kingdom.”
“No,” Ruby cried out, her voice shattered. “I… I trusted you. I believed you, I… I…”
Ember’s face twisted in disgust. “Do it quickly and spare her the pain, for pity’s sake. Swift and painless; don’t prolong her agony thus. If it must be done, then… may our ancestors forgive us.”
The Sun Queen turned away from Tyrian, turning towards Ruby. Cinder struggled in vain against Tyrian’s hideous strength as the Queen bore down upon her.
Sunsprite turned away and closed her one good eye.
“Wait.”
The single word from Tyrian was enough to still all movement in the chamber. Laurel, the Sun Queen, and Ember all looked to him.
“Sami,” Tyrian said. “Hold Cinder. Kill her if she struggles too much.”
“With pleasure,” Sami said as she advanced out of the darkness, from the same direction from which Tyrian had first come, her knife held tightly in her hand.
Tyrian rose to his feet, and as he did so, Sami took her turn to straddle Cinder, holding her down, putting her knife to Cinder’s throat.
“Of course you would be with him,” Cinder spat.
“Of course,” Sami agreed. “More fool you for thinking that this day would never come.” She smirked, scraping the tip of her knife across Cinder’s neck. “I have waited for this day since the moment I met you,” she declared. “Not so damn smug now, are you?”
“Don’t kill her, my young apprentice,” Tyrian said casually. “Not unless you really have to. Her offence was committed against the Goddess, and it is the Goddess who will take her vengeance and punish Cinder’s transgressions. But you…” He walked towards Sunsprite, hunched over, tail flickering. “Open up your eyes. Or should I say, your eye.” He laughed, as though he had just made the wittiest remark in the world.
Sunsprite opened up her eye warily.
“A silver eye!” Tyrian exclaimed. “You have a silver eye!”
“Yes,” Sunsprite snapped. “What of it?”
Tyrian chuckled. “Your Majesty, there is no need for you to dirty your hands with the blood of little miss Rose… just yet. If you will hold her, and the traitor Cinder here – and it might be wise to detain their other companions sooner rather than later – then you and I must have a little talk about the future. At once.”
The Sun Queen was silent for a moment. “Very well. We will talk some more in my chambers. Lady Ember, will you go muster warriors to our support? I fear that we have need of them after our losses this morning.”
Ember exhaled audibly. “Very well.”
“Sunsprite, Laurel, secure these two within the dungeons,” the Sun Queen commanded. “And then make ready to receive our other guests.”
Tyrian did not so much sit in his seat so much as he perched on it, legs resting on the wooden stool, his posture crouched, his fingers steepled.
Sunset found it unnerving. She wondered if that was the point.
“So, then,” Sunset said, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking. “What is it that you wish to discuss with me?” Can you not take your pound of flesh and get out of my sight?
“Your silver-eyed Ranger,” Tyrian said. “What’s her name, Sunsprite?”
“Sunsprite Rose,” Sunset agreed. “Ruby is her long-lost cousin. As you can imagine, this business… it has hit her hard. I will be glad when it is all over.”
“It will be over sooner than you think,” Tyrian said. “She will have to die, alongside her cousin.”
“What?” Sunset exclaimed. “That was never a condition of our agreement!”
“I’m altering the terms of our agreement,” Tyrian said calmly. “Pray I don’t alter it any further.”
“Now hang on just a moment,” Sunset said, rising to her feet. “You can’t just tell me-”
“Except that I did just tell you,” Tyrian said. He remained upon his seat, after his peculiar fashion. “Didn’t I? Just as I just told you that Ruby would have to be sacrificed for the greater good, and you accepted that. What makes Sunsprite any different, hmm?”
“Sunsprite has served me faithfully,” Sunset said.
“Then I’m sure that, willing as she is to give her life for you, she will gladly, well, give her life,” Tyrian suggested, mockery in his voice. “After all, you cannot put this city of thousands at risk for the sake of one life.”
Sunset growled. “Damn you.”
Tyrian laughed. “I serve the Goddess; I am the only person in all of Remnant who can be certain of divine approval.”
“What kind of queen will I be if I give up my servant?”
“What kind of queen will you be if you have no city to rule over?” Tyrian replied. “Remember, Majesty, that you rule here by the good grace and forbearance of the Goddess. You survive because she allows it, and you will end because she demands it.” He leapt down off his stool. “Look at you,” he sneered, “playing queen in your costume and your mask; don’t let the grandiose title you have given yourself go to your head. You can submit to me, and through me to the one whom I serve, and you may continue on, strutting up and down this meagre stage receiving the accolades that you desire; or you can defy me, and all that you have worked for will burn before your eyes.”
Sunset closed her eyes, though he could see it behind the mask. Every word he said was true, curse him for it. He understood her better than her other self had.
She was… she was no true queen. She was playing pretend, nothing more, and she had roped her friends into the game. All her hopes, all her ambitions… they would all come crashing down around her unless… unless she gave up Sunsprite.
A true queen would not sacrifice a faithful retainer. A true queen would fight for all her loyal subjects, as loyal to them as they were loyal to her. A true queen would dare defiance of this evil, though the queen of grimm be immortal.
But she was no true queen. She was false, fool's gold. She was playing.
But she didn’t want the game to end just yet.
“Very well,” she said. “Let them both die.”
The line of Rose would end, but the future of Freeport would be assured.
Her future would be assured.
The Sun Queen would survive, and she would continue to rule, and all at the cost of two lives.
She could live with that.