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Chapter Text

She had heard the sound of a body hitting the ground a hundred times before. It was always the same. Repetitive. First came a hollow thud. The fall would squeeze out all air that had been held in the thorax, creating a wheezing sound, before the body would inevitably still. However, a fall from significant height would elaborate on the age-old spiel and accompany itself with an ugly, loud crack. Commonly, the origin was the neck snapping or the spine shattering. It was exactly what Helga would feel in t minus five seconds of impact. She realised that this was an incredibly detached way of coming to terms with her own death. It’s the shock, she reasoned.

Sometimes, a soldier survived past what should be considered possible. The human body could take a lot of strain before it snapped. In the unlucky case that one did survive, she always had her trusty pistol at her side, ready to end their suffering. Contrary to what her comrades in arms whispered behind her back (and she knew many of the rumours), she did not enjoy killing. Yes, it was a part of her job, and she had never hesitated to put a bullet between an enemy's eyes, but watching the life leave them, bodies slumping over, throats gurgling, choking on blood unnerved her. There was a certain ugliness in killing she could not shake off. Had never managed to get over this particular flaw of hers, however aggravated it made her feel. She considered herself perfect in all other aspects. In relation to her profession that was, not herself. Important distinction. Or, well, it might have been. Not so much anymore, plummeting to her death. The worst death she could have imagined. Betrayed and alone. So so alone. This thought was leading her to a place she did not want to go. Not in life and certainly not in death.

If she did somehow survive the fall, she would probably start to feel all the anger and rage that she was supposed to seethe in right now. Fill this dark, cold nothingness that was swallowing her up from the inside. Helga was not religious. Hadn’t been for many years, but she did pray now. Or something close to it, how can someone pray to god when it had been in his name she had suffered so much before? Why would he heed her words, when she had used the very same mouth to curse him again, again? You never know your god, the sentence echoed in her mind. A memory of the past, sealed away into deep unconscious. Seemingly been dislodged, trying to tear her already frail mental state apart.

Still, she prayed. Pleaded, that her death would be swift and merciful. That she would die upon impact, because there was no one here to put a gun to her head, ending her misery.

Hollow scream ringing out, ricocheting off the walls. Or maybe it was all in her head, because it felt like it might split open right then and there. It might already have. Just as she had predicted. A dull thud, followed by multiple sharp cracks. The stone was cold and hard. For the first few seconds she wasn’t even sure whether she was still alive or not. Her head was ringing, and she had no way to reorient herself.

The impact left her breathless, gasping for just the tiniest bit of oxygen relief. Her brain could barely comprehend what had just happened, chillingly hot pain in the back of her head made everything else seem irrelevant. Bile rising up her esophagus, nothing but the rattling feeling in her head persisting. Trying to move her face, the action send a white-hot flash through her nerves, vision exploding white. All muscles were tensed to the brink, tensed so tight she might snap in half. And something did snap. Gut-wrenching pain shot up from toes through feet, ankles, legs, hips and lower back. Tearing through everything in its path – muscles, bones, flesh, nerves – until her whole lower body burned. Liquid fire the only way she could describe the sensation; all blood turned to soot, skin a blaze adamant on turning inside out.

Helga ground her teeth, felt something break. Clawing at dirt with her hands, hoping in some sick way she could make it suffer or better yet, with her. Gloves ripped, naked fingers trying to find purchase on smooth volcanic rock below. Nothing to hold onto. Skin on her hands tearing open, nails breaking, ripping even deeper holes into already calloused skin. Come away wet. What it was, she could not tell. Maybe sweat. Hopefully.

Another surge of white agony flooded her body and burned through what was left of her fried nerve endings. She felt like she had been burned to a crisp. It came upon her so suddenly, that her entire body just locked up. Her back was not touching the stone any longer. Head thrown back, her mouth was pulled open wide, but no scream left her. There was ash or dust or salt in her lungs, and it closed them shut. No air was coming or leaving her. Helga’s entire body twitched, spasming out of control. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She could feel her brain shut down, ceasing all higher functions, not being able to comprehend the way her body was tearing itself apart. Something had to give.

Finally, a piercing cry left Helga as something in her body gave way under the pressure. There was a brief moment of nothingness. Pure Oblivion. It all came shattering down in a single moment.

Her head hit the stone hard, again. Only now did she realise the wetness she was lying, that her hair and head were caked in. Her spine gave one last big spasm, before there was a small tugging sensation, a near silent snap. She was pulled up into the air before abruptly dropping down again. It felt like she had been punched in the gut with a sledgehammer. But there was no more pain. A slight prickling sensation at the end of her neck and in her fingers was all the reminder she had of the agony she had just endured. There was no relief.

With nothing able to hold up her head anymore or to focus on, it slipped back even further, her eyes empty. Straying. Watching. Finding.

Rourke.

She couldn’t breathe anymore, or she would have laughed. Verlogener Bastard. Slowly her last bit of wakefulness slipped from her, death reaching its inevitable hand out for her. There was nothing but fuzzy static in her ear and encroaching on her vision. The absence of pain – the white-hot anguish– had left a cleft in her mind. It gradually filled itself with thoughts of revenge.

Helga’s arms barely moved. She needed multiple tries just to get it to fucking twitch. She concentrated everything she had on this one seemingly impossible task. Agonisingly slow (and also agonising because a deep, seething pain was starting to travel up her arm) she moved her hand to where she knew the flare gun was still resting in its holster. She tried to drown out the amount of wetness she could feel under her fingers. That she was practically drowning in. Forget that it’s all mine. Finally, the feeling of cold, hard metal told her that she had found her target. Sluggardly she made to grab the hilt and cursed in her head when all the blood made it hard to get a good grip on the handle. Her hand slipped and landed back in the puddle of blood. It was hot and sticky. And fucking disgusting.

Helga tried to take a shallow breath in and steel her nerves, but no air came through either her nose or mouth to reach her thorax. A pathetic keening sound left her instead, similar to a whine. The sort of sound an animal would make were it stuck in a trap and the only way out was to gnaw off its own leg. Ironic parallel. She only had a second to slightly turn her head to the side, before vomit shot up her throat and on the stone. It was mostly red and clumpy, and she realised with dawning horror that it was blood. Something inside of her must be seriously broken. Shit. Her time was running out.

She had neither the strength nor the actual bodily function to wipe the bile away. Try again. This time her hand was more successful in reaching for the flare. Her grip was weak, but she managed to latch onto the handle and tightened her grip. Slowly, carefully she drew her hand back and pointed the gun up. Her arm was visibly trembling. She didn’t know how she still had the strength to keep it up. She wanted to die. There was sweat and blood on her face, and it was mixing together, dripping into her eyes and mouth. Obscuring her vision. The static in her ears was growing louder and her eyes were hazy and unfocused.

Above her the fight still seemed to be going strong. But she had neither the eyes nor the capacity to comprehend this. All she could think was Rourke Rourke Rourke. Finally, she had him in the crosshairs.

“Nothing personal”.

A press, a click, a shot. She had never missed her targets and would not stop now. The flare would hit its mark. Helga knew that as she fired what was probably her last weapon in her life. There was a strange satisfaction there, deep in her brain. Make him pay!

The drawback from the weapon was too much for her battered, beaten, bloody, broken body. The flare rammed itself right into her face, a whipping crack sounding out. Her hand snapped back in an unnatural way, bending in such an angel as should not be possible. But none of it mattered anymore. Helga’s eyes had rolled back into her head the moment she had fired it. Her body lay still. The spine ripped in half; her head cleaved open; her hips dislocated; one leg bend to the side and the other simply missing.

And over her, the balloon came down in flames.

Chapter Text

Pacing up and down. Step, step, step. Turn. Step, step, step. Turn. Up and down. Wringing his hands, shaking his head, hair falling in his eyes, “Come on, you can’t be serious! I just want to talk to her.”

His request simply met by silence, “Please?”

The unwavering gaze of the mountain of a man before him the only answer. He turned his back on them, miffed by the fact that they were still barring the entrance to the room beyond.

“Milo, are you bothering the guards again?”

He wouldn’t even need to look to recognise the man who had just addressed him so informally, “Ulkuoghenghos! What a blessing to see you!”

Still, look he did. His broad shoulders twitched at hearing Milo call out for him. Before Milo, there stood a man nearly as statuesque as the ones guarding the door. Long, white hair pulled back in an elaborate braid that rested well below his shoulders. A bowl filled with an assortment of fruits cradled in his meaty hands.

“You are still butchering my name. It is Ulkuoagkhehngkhohs . The last time you found me in the kitchen, you promised me you would remember it, did you not?”

Blood rushing into his head, sweat forming on his brow, Milo scratched a spot near his neck and let his gaze pass over the man, “I haven’t had time yet. I apologize.”

Soft lines made up his face. The corners of his mouth were pulled up, his nose crinkled, laugh lines shadowing his crow’s feet. Laughter, it seemed like, always on the verge of spilling from his small lips. There was the kind of ease around him that made the people close feel like they were privy to some small joke shared only between the two of them. Camaraderie. It eased Milo immediately.

“You know the guards will not answer to your whims, so why do you not leave them to their work? Spend your time on something more useful.“

“I know that! But Khehn, I’m getting worried. Kida hasn’t stepped out of her room for three days now. And the guards aren’t telling me anything. I just want to make sure she’s okay,” The shortened version of the mans name rolled easily from his tongue.

“You have a big heart, gamosetot,” he released one of his hands from the task of holding the bowl and placed it instead on Milos shoulder. It was calloused and warm. Milos brows were pulled together tight, lower lip caught between his teeth.

„We Atlanteans are not a grieving tewtekh. Grieving people. We live long lives, fill them with all the joy that may fit in here,“ he used his free hand to motion to his heart, “Your karod. When it does become our time to join the khlehwd – our people – and the great kings, we go in joy. There simply is no room for an ugly thing like grief. When we pass on, it is done in the knowledge that we do not leave the world with a regret. The princess has always been – and please forgive my words – different. I have witnessed it since she was a little child. She has felt things more than us. Let herself be pulled in the same water as her emotions. She gives grief- grieves I mean, for her father. And we must honour her by leaving her be for sey ag. Three days. Now it has become time for her to join us in celebration.”

“What, so you just let her grieve for three measly days and then expect her to celebrate with all of you? I’m really trying to understand you, but how is that anything but cruel? She has to take care of the entire kingdom when her father just died!“

Khehns gaze became soft, his voice like a gentle ocean breeze, all-encompassing but never smothering, “It is unwise for people like us to indulge in our emotions too much. We feel them all tenfold and deep, deep into our bones. Her most of all. So, we have to be careful that it does not drown her. It is time to rouse her from her daze.”

Holding the highest respect for other customs, Milo still had a great trouble to wrap his mind around this one. When his grandfather had died, he had been horribly upset. Had cried, cried, cried until his eyes were like acid in his skull. Apathy came next. It had taken a while to become happy again. Made him see what was important, what was not. Grief changed people. Changed him.

“I have come bearing fresh fruits for her. Now, if you will, please follow me into the royal chamber.”

Milos gaze travelled down the mans face, chest until he arrived at the bowl. It was indeed filled to the brim with all sorts of fruits. Some he recognised: apples (which the Atlanteans call kheboal) bananas, and many more that he was not able to identify. They looked to be exceptionally fresh and ripe. He could nearly taste the way the skin of the red apples would break under his teeth and spill its smooth, sweet taste in his mouth.

Smacking his lips, gaze travelling back to Khehns eyes, “Please, let us proceed.”

Addressing the two guards at the door, who had hindered Milo from entering the past few days, Khehn simply gave them a nod. They did not even glance in their direction. Retracted their enormous shields, stepped to the side, gaze unbroken. Khehn continued walking and reached out the hand that had just moments prior been resting on Milos shoulder to the door. Milo nimbly stepped around the man and pressed his hands against the right door handle. He gave a short push, not knowing how much pressure it would take to open the door. It instantly gave way under the soft ministration.

Mighty sets of doors they were, much heavier looking than they turned out to be. Creaking on their hinges, they swung open, exposing the belly of the room that lay beyond. Milo had been inside the royal chamber only once. It had been just after the big battle where Rourke died, and Kida was freed. She had asked him to accompany her, she had had a present for him. Once they had stepped inside, she had procured a necklace from a wooden jewel case, asked him to lean forward. He had complied, letting her slip the piece of incredible craftmanship over his head. With a smile she had told him that the necklace was meant for only the closest confidents of Atlantean royalty. He had been left speechless and teary-eyed. That had been three days ago, when Kida had retreated to her room and ordered her guards to not let anyone enter.

Trying not to trip over his own feet he slowly turned around to admire the room again. Something he had realised early on was the Atlanteans refusal to use any kind of blinds when it came to their homes. They had big windows and would allow the sun to filter in, never closing themselves off from her light. The same could be said about this chamber. Big and Bright. Those were the first two thoughts that came to his mind, as he admired the view from his position. Windows granted the sunlight free reign over the room. A slight breeze wafted through the air, carrying the smell of rock and salt. A carpet, bigger than any he had seen before covered most of the floor. It was of a rich, deep blue colour, with silver, white and more shades of blue woven into it. He could make out that it told a story, there were shapes there, some small, others giant. A whale, boat, people. An island. Truly stunning. In the middle of the room – placed against the wall right opposite the door – was a bed, decorated with the most luxurious, plush looking blankets and cushions Milo had ever seen. Their bright colours rivalled the intensity of the fruits Khehn was carrying.

Four stone pillars stood proudly in front of each corner, their surface engraved with words, pictures. Here and there exploded a splash of colour, blue, green, yellow forming intricate works of art. Even at this distance he could tell that a great deal of painstaking work had been put into them. Against one wall stood a massive closet, made of wood, but painted in a brilliant white, covered in words and more abstract drawings. The other side was occupied by a small wooden desk (the same white colour, but none of the artistry that made the other items stand out), an easel (not white, instead covered in all kinds of bright dye, each one covering more of the previous), several unfinished canvas (depicting the ocean? Or maybe that’s supposed to be the forest? Milo really wasn’t so sure) and a bookcase (again, only white without any real care put into it) that held such a fast number of books and papers that Milo was not sure how it did not burst at the seams. He was too far away to reliably make out any of the titles written or printed on the backs, but the way they glittered golden and silver in the sun had him in a trance.

The sound of Khehn clearing his throat made him turn back around, fingers fidgeting, posture small under his stare. Only now did he realize that Kida was nowhere to be seen. Movement caught his eye, realising he had skipped a part of the décor as he was looking around. Next to the closet was a room divider, that reminded him heavily of the ones he used to see in the Chinese exhibit, back at the museum. It was big, with a white, wooden frame. The body itself was painted, depicting a landscape caught between rocky ridge and wide ocean. The grey of the stones and the blue of the water swirled together in the middle, forming a spiral from which a crystal shaped in the form of a hexagon rose.

“Wow.”

“Please collect your chin from the ground, my friend. It is rude to stare.”

“Oh please, Ulkuoagkhehngkhohs, if he wishes to admire the craftmanship that went into this piece of wood then we might as well let him be. Someone needs to appreciate it.”

Kida had stepped around the divider, leaned against it now. One of her hands was resting on her hip, the other loosely at her side. Head tilted to the right, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

“Kida!” before sense and sensibility could rule over him, Milo had jumped from his position and wrapped the princess in a tight hug.

Her body was tense at first, but only a heartbeat later he felt her melt against him, pressing her head into the crook of his neck. His fingers pressed into the cloth she was wearing. Soft and blue. He pulled back reluctantly, a small, bashful smile on his face. He ducked his head, red after the more than inappropriate way of greeting the princess-to-be-crowned-queen. Blue eyes gazed at him.

“I am so happy to see you again,” she said, never letting her eyes leave his.

“Me too. I… I missed you. You were gone for quite a while.“

Her eyebrows scrunched together, eyes cast down, mouth pulled into a straight line, “I am here now.”

She looked different. Had traded in her usual outfit for a light, sleeveless tunic which hung loosely over a pair of wide cut pants. Pulling the look together was a belt, glittering like the night sky. Her cleavage was open wide, revealing her necklace which rested just above her bosom. Not the clothes were what gave her this new authority. Everything about her was different. Incredibly imprecise, but Milo just could not put his finger on it. It was in the way she pulled her shoulders back, looking taller than before, unflinching. Usually casual demeanour was still there, but there was an undercurrent of steadfastness, of will. A kind of consistency that she did not have before. He remembered how he had compared her to water; always shifting, moving, never stopping. Now, she seemed anchored, rooted to the present. He wasn’t sure he liked the change.

“Princess Kidagakash, this servant humbly bows before you,” Khehn lowered himself down to one knee, the other carrying his weight, holding the fruit bowl in front of him, “Please accept these fruits this servant has brought you as a sign of the end of your blessed grief.”

“Ulkuoagkhehngkhohs, please! You know that you must not address me in such a way! How long have we known each other?”

“This humble servant answers that it has been over 8,000 years.”

“Exactly. You have been alive many, many years before I was born. You were my father’s favourite cook. I think we can drop these formalities between us now. I know much is yet to happen,” at this Milo could both hear and see the change that passes through her body, “But I wish to at least keep this part of my past close to me. So please, address me as you did before, my friend.”

“As you wish, my princess. I am just happy to see that you are alright. I was worried,” Khehn put one of his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, “We all were.”

Kidas eyes flickered over to the window on the south side. Swallowing, back straightening, “I am sorry for the worry I caused. But I will step into the role designed for me, now.”

“I know that. We all do. No one in this land has not suffered with you, after all, we were all grieving the death of a king as great as your father.”

Again, there was this change in her body. Milo could catch glimpses of it in the way her shoulders slightly slumped forward, knees sinking into themselves and her throat bopping up and down. Though he could see her eyes before and they had seemed happy to see him there was this underlying misery to them, this light lessness that hadn’t been there before. Oh, how he wished he could pull her back into his arms and make everything okay.

“Grief has its time, and that time ends now. We must look forward into the future. There is still much to do. The city needs to be rebuilt, now that we have the power of the heart, we can finally return it to its old splendour. We must also tend to those who have been hurt in… in the fights days ago and salvage what we can from when the volcano tried to sweep us away.”

“There is enough time to do all that and more, princess. For now, enjoy these fruits as the advisors show you just how far we have come in the last days. We were not idle.”

“Thank you, Ulkuoagkhehngkhohs. You are a true friend.”

Khehns laugh lines became more prominent as Kida bared those words, a puff of breath leaving his chest. He took a few steps forward, holding the assortment of fruits under Kidas nose.

“Eat something. You haven’t the past three days. You need nourishment if you are to lead us well, nothing good comes of an empty stomach.”

Kida let her gaze wander over the different fruits, inspecting each one closely. If he hadn’t known her any better, Milo would have suspected her to be buying time, delaying the moment she finally had to step foot outside her room. At last, she settled on something looking like a pomegranate, slightly bigger. She brought the red fruit to her mouth, took a big bite of it, exposing the inside to the world. He could see that its flesh was almost purple. Kida noticing his curious gaze looked at him, “Have you not tried pahpeeshih before?

He shook his head, only for her to offer the fruit – the pahpeeshih – to him. Hesitating, he took it, holding it up to his nose. The smell filled his nostrils immediately, drool pooling over his tongue. Aroma sweet and intense, likening it to strawberries at the end of summer filled him. Lowering it to his mouth, opening his jaw wide to take a bite of it, anticipating the taste, imagining it already.

“Princess!”

At the sudden intrusion all three people spun around, alarmed. At the mouth of the room stood a woman clothed in the minimal armour of Atlantean soldiers.

“Please, princess, forgive my intrusion. But I need to relay this message post haste.”

“Come here, Gkhewtewtekh. Speak of what you wish to tell me.”

Still alarmed – fruit forgotten – Milo stepped closer to both Kida and Khehn. Only in his periphery does he notice the small blade Kidas right hand dropped back into her robe. The captain rushed closer, dropping to one knee just as Khehn had done. With her head bowed, she began talking.

“My soldiers and I, we were at the south furthest beach cleaning up remnants of the destruction after the lava came to swallow the land. As we were working on clearing any hindrances one of my soldiers noticed something suspicious further away and informed me of it. I dismissed him at first as he is known to have an active imagination, but he insisted that something in the woods next to us was moving. Then, suddenly, our crystals started malfunctioning. They were giving out bursts of energy. Our machinery became almost unusable because they were too strong for us to control.”

“What are you saying, captain?” Brows furrowed and a finger tapping against her lips, Kida looked every bit the concerned queen Milo knew she would have to become.

“I have brought the soldier who saw the thing with me. He waits outside.”

“Bring him in. And rise, please.”

At those words the captain sprang up, back straight, shoulders pulled back, face a mask of stoicism. Sharp cheekbones and a straight nose made her seem as prone to cutting people as her sword. She turned, barked a short command, turned back again, standing still.

In came a much younger man, looking like a boy. His hair was braided close to his skull and flowed freely around his neck; his only tattoo was a blue swirl on his left shoulder. In the same fashion his captain had done he also dropped down to one knee, head bowed even deeper.

“I greet the princess. Great be the princess!”

“Up, boy. We have no time fore pleasantries. Tell me exactly what it was that you saw.”

Kida was on edge, that much was clear to see. She rested her weight on one side, one hand flickering back to her back where Milo knew she had hidden the knife. Did she feel safer with it?

The soldier-boy hesitated before slowly raising his head, eyes searching for his captain. She gave him a sharp nod. Getting up, he stood nearly as straight as her. His chest heaved up and down with the exertion it had taken for them to get here so fast.

“I… egh…,” unsure just how to address the situation he looked around.

“Spit it out, boy!” the captain bellowed.

Holding up a hand, Kida took a step closer, “It’s alright. Take a second and then tell me exactly what you saw on that beach.”

Gratefully gulping down a breath of fresh air the boy started regaining some colour.

“We were cleaning up on the beach because a bridge there collapsed and while we were dragging the wood out of the water, I stepped away for a second to…,” the previous paleness of his cheeks filled out with red, Milo taking a second to realise what he was insinuating.

“Oh.”

All eyes turning to him had Milo averting his gaze, awkwardly coughing into his hand.

“Continue.”

“Once I was done, I wanted to return to the others, but something caught my attention. My crystal-,” at those words he tapped the necklace around his neck, “- started glowing like crazy and floating. I went to take it off and inspect it when I saw something move behind the trees. I wanted to take a closer look so I stepped further into the forest and there I saw something that I still can’t really explain.”

“Well? Try then, you have our attention.”

“It was like…like the heart had come down to us and become flesh! Well not, flesh obviously, but it looked like a person, only that it was made entirely of crystal. Like the clay figurines the children play with. It was even glowing a bit. I couldn’t believe my own eyes! So, I ran back to the others to tell them about it, but before I could finish the story the machines were going crazy, and all our crystals were giving of these energy pulses.”

Silence.

“What?” It was not Kida who had spoken, but Khehn. All eyes resting on the boy, the air heavy with dread, “How… How could something like that be? The heart was fixed, all of us saw it!”

The soldier-boy shrank away, face contorted into a grimace, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay Gurehbkhreeahlohs. You did your duty, and it is solely due to you that we can strategize.”

The kind words from the captain seemed to cheer him up, shoulders losing their tension, breath coming easier. Milo turned to Kida who was still silent. Looking at her now he could see that she was in deep thought, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. He angled himself next to her, bumped their shoulders together. Head snapping up so rapidly, for a second he worried she might break something, Kida looked at him. Then, her gaze rove over the captain and her charge. A stony resignation settled over her features, obscuring her earlier shock. She had made up her mind. Milo just wished she would share her thoughts with him.

“Gkhewtewtekh, take us to the place where you saw the moving crystal. I also wish to inspect the machines to see if the earlier incident left any traces. Though I fear we shall not find much there might be a clue as to what is going on. In the meantime – and I want to make this very clear – this information should not stray outside of the walls of this chamber. It would be foolish to alert the people when we do not yet know what we are dealing with. Especially since we all have more than enough to worry about already. Understood?”

“Yes,” came the answer in unison.

Kida would have to instruct her two guards at the door to keep quiet as well. The doors were thick, but some information could always slip through. Milo was positive that they would keep quiet about this. There was a reason after all, why it had been these two guarding the princess while she had secluded herself.

“Then we are off to the woods. Be prepared for everything.”

*

There is no air. It was the first and last thought Helga had, before she felt her chest collapsing. Eyes, nose, mouth, throat, lungs. Filled with rocks. Only tasting dirt, sand, ash, blood. A cocktail of death choking her. A cold hand gripping her throat. Tearing at it, clawing, scratching.

GET OUT!

She saw nothing. There was no room for movement. It was a coffin, but also not. Trying to kill her in life. Suffocate her in death. She screamed, only a choked whine leaving. Blood dripping from her mouth, stones scratching her throat. Hands started clawing, scrambling for purchase. Hitting rock, stone. Cold to the touch.

Doesn’t matter.

Continued clawing, scraping. Started hitting. There was no air left at all. But then the rock cracked. It was a dull thud. Like a head splitting open once it meets ground, making her mind spin. Vomited at the thought, bile leaving with blood, ash, soot. It burned on the way up and there was nowhere for it to go. It smelled like rotten cadaver. She hit and hit again. An ear splintering crack. The sound reverberated through her body, leaving her shaking, teeth clenched. She tried to spit out more acid, but there was still no space. Coffin too tight. With all her might, she wound her fist back and slammed it forward, propelled it into stone. The impact thrummed through her hand, arm, up the face. Left her tingling. Rock gave way. Air coming through, a small hole above her.

NOW!

Again and again, she slammed her hands against it. More rock gave way, crumbling, falling right into her face. She coughed, coughed her lungs out, little stones coming up. Felt something slimy on the back of her throat, ignored it. Swallowed. Dust settled into her eyes, blinded again. Kept on hitting. Then, suddenly, the whole structure broke down, falling apart right above her fists. Gone was her stone cell.

Helga sat up. Vertigo from the sudden switch in position hit her. With a groan she turned to the side, emptying the rest of whatever she had held in her stomach. Tried to open her eyes, succeeded in only irritating them more. She tried wiping at them, only to intensify the burning sting. Taking a heaving breath, she tasted the air around her. It didn‘t go down all the way to her lungs, she could feel that much. Her jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding so hard she was able to hear them creak – threatening to break – throat bopping up and down; uncontrollable. Chest twitched up and down with no rhyme or reason, limps shivering like a leaf. She tried to sit up again, felt like her head weighted a ton. Had trouble keeping it upright but managed just so. Finally, the burning pain in her eyes lessened, replaced instead by a dull ache in the back of her head, throbbing violently. She opened her eyes, everything blurring together, turning, swirling, dancing shapes, nothing but shadows in front of her. Shook her head to try and clear it, regretted it immediately when another wave of nausea hit her. But there was nothing to throw up anymore, body dry heaving. Even blood wouldn’t leave anymore. Fuck, I’ve really been bled dry.

She took another breath, felt it fill her mouth, climb down her throat, settle in her lungs, coating it in another layer of soot, dust. It fucking stunk around her; sulphur, brimstone, gunpowder and eyes watering sweet as well. She’d never touch another piece of candy again. Taking another gulp of air, she decided now would be a good time to get up, assess the situation. Figure out where the fuck she was. Helga pressed a hand against the spot on her head that made her feel like she would rather split it open with a stone than bear it for a second longer. And just as the thought had materialised the pain did the opposite. Suddenly, with a clear head free to think for the first time, she blinked and looked up. Nothing but stone looked back at her. Silently mocking.

“Where am I?” the words were nothing more than a rasp, followed by a cough that would make even the most seasoned smoker blush, phlegm coating her hand and mouth. Voice sounding like scraping a dull metal pipe over pavement, hoping it would make the metal sing.

She turned her head to the right, then the left. Nothing to see expect hauntingly wide chasms of stone. There was still nothing in her head that would tell her how she ended up here. In fact, there was not much she remembered at all. Bits and pieces of information seemed to close in on her only to fly out of reach once she tried to grasp for them. It felt like wading through thick, molten rock. Impossible and painful, so she stopped trying to remember. Concentrated on getting out of here instead. Wherever, or whatever here was.

Determination settled deep into her bones, reinvigorating her. With one decisive push she managed to lift her body from the ground, falling to her knees instead. There was no vertigo or bile this time around, she bowed her head in silent thanks. Another push and her legs straightened themselves out. They shook, but she managed to keep her balance, swaying only lightly. Looking around she still could not see far; the light was dim in here. All she could see was rock, a hollow cathedral made of stone. Not a comforting thought and she did not understand why that connection came to her first.

Taking a step that was more stumble than strut she started the way out of here. Hopefully. The wall was not as far away from her as she had first assumed. She kept both hands outstretched as not to walk into anything, when one of them met cold stone. Slowly she moved alongside it, taking this chance to let the wall carry a great part of her weight. Exhaustion settled over her, trying to drive out her last strength. She couldn’t keep going for much longer.

The dim light in the cave followed, never more than a foot in front or behind her. The ceiling started lowering itself, trying to cage her in again. A sudden unevenness in the ground made her trip, falling face first into the dirt. The fall did not hurt as much as it probably should have, Helga wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. But now this wariness clung to her, she felt powerless to shake it off.

I’ll die here.

It was not a comforting thought, something in the back of her mind kept whispering that it would not be the first time. Death was kind to those who welcomed it and even more so to those who were old friends. She considered herself to be neither. Her head lay turned to the side; eyes shut. Darkness encroached on her vision, dragging her body under the stone-ocean again. Something flickered beyond her eyelids. Curious, she cracked them open, exhaustion hindering her. Working against her own body she fought to keep them open. And really, right there, just a few meters away something bright seemed to await her.

A strangled groan left her shredded throat. Her arms screamed at her to stay on the ground, legs pleading to give them a break, but she did not listen. Deep breath after breath entered her, tasting more and more like stale death, driving her to get up. She shook even worse now. Felt the cold claws of the cave burying themselves in her shoulders, back, legs. But she dragged on, intent on losing her chains. Struggled step after step after step.

And then she had made it. Suddenly fortified by what she was looking at, she dropped to her knees and started clawing at the hole in the wall to make it bigger. It’s a way out, could feel it. Reinvigorated her limps moved faster and faster. She teared at the hole, kicked, punched, screamed. Dislodged stone, wood, metal. One last push, and the way was free. Light streamed into the cavernous space, filling it with not only the new day but also fresh air and warmth. Oh, how long she hadn’t felt this kind of warmth! It felt glorious, letting it stream over her body, bathing in it until she was reborn. Blessed like getting baptised in holy water. Helga took big gulps of air, not getting enough of its fresh taste. Nothing like the fiery, leather smell inside. This was true air.

She took a step forward and found herself on the edge of what looked to be a very small waterfall that had been turned to stone. Just a foots drop beneath her was a ledge overgrown with grass, weeds and fern. Feeling like she stepped into heaven itself Helga let herself drop to the platform below. The ground met her with a soft crunch, she had missed the sound. The grass was incredibly soft beneath her feet, the finest linen could not compare. A wave of exhaustion hit her, but this time it was not the same tired, deadened feeling. Instead, it was mixed with a relief that she felt so deep in her bones that a shiver went through her entire body, leaving her completely blissed out. She rolled over, letting her gaze trace over the sky. It was of such a clear blue she felt as if she had never seen anything like it before. Beauty beyond compare. If she had had one poetic bone in her body she would have written, rhymed, sung and drawn of this moment for all eternity. But artistry had never been her strong suit. No, she had left that to her brothers. The thought brought a sudden sadness with it, so she decided to push it away. Something to reminisce on later.

After feeling like she had rested enough Helga decided to finally assess her situation. She sat up, leaning her body against the rock behind her. In front of her she saw the ocean. It looked beautiful. Blue, undisturbed, powerful. Truly a marvel. And beyond that lay a city, light glinting of off the buildings, nearly blinding her. As she saw this a sudden rush of memories came back to her. Milo, the Atlanteans, a king, the search, The Heart, a princess, betrayal, fleeing, Rourke-

Her fist connected with the dirt beneath it, leaving a deep indent. Suddenly everything felt unscrambled in her head. Her thoughts were untethered, rushing around each other, trying to fit together. Like a knot had been loosened. Rourke’s grim face flashed before her eyes.

“That fucker!” she let out; voice still raw. Not just from the sulphur she had swallowed but from emotion as well. How could that bastard betray her like that?

They had worked together for what, 20 years? She had known him since she had been a rebellious teenager. He had seen something in her that many others had as well, but he alone had known just how to get through that thick skull of hers to wield her into something with actual worth. They had been through so much and he had simply flung her from a hot air ballon. She remembered firing the flare that had hit it, but in this moment, she wished for nothing more than the chance to punch him in his big stupid face. Break his teeth, rip out his throat, disembowel him, make him fucking pay.

A hot flash of pain seared through her brain. Snapping her jaw shut, eyes closed, she threw her head back against the wall, not even registering the impact. The pain was over in a second, but her nerves continued to burn even minutes later. Her chest trembled uncontrollably. Sweat formed at the top of her brows. She went to shakily wipe it away, when she realised that the bitter taste in her mouth was not exclusively due to Rourke’s betrayal. The bile from back in the cave was still gathered around and in it. Turning her head she spit on the ground, but it did little to relieve her of the mess. Instead, she decided to search for a water source where she could get properly get cleaned up. After that she could plan how she was supposed to get out of this damned place. Accepting this as the best course of action she went to stand – swaying only a little – and started walking. After a few steps she stopped, trying to listen for the sound of running water. Walking all the way to the ocean seemed a bit too ambitious at the moment, she wouldn’t make such a journey.

Turning her head left, then right and left again she tried to pick up any hints. Now that her head didn’t feel like it was splitting apart, and her thoughts had quieted down she could easily pick apart the sounds reaching her. And indeed, there was the sound of running water. It seemed not too far away so she made up her mind and trudged on. As she continued walking, she kept a lock on the memories that had just minutes earlier overwhelmed her completely. Now was really not the time to have a nervous breakdown over whether she was supposed to be dead or even more dead. Just keep moving.

She reached the water after what felt like forever. The forest around her had become denser, trees reaching, stretching their branches to touch the sky. In front of her was a little stream, not more than two meters wide and moving at a slow pace. But the water looked clear, and she saw nothing that would indicate anything else nearby. Even so she would not have been able to hold herself back. Feeling like the holy spirit himself had come down from heaven and guided her she lunged forward on tired feet. Collapsing at the riverbank she plunged her entire head under water. There was a short bout of panic, a sizzling awareness in her body that just an hour earlier she had been buried in stone in much the same way. At deaths door. But she pushed the thought away, concentrating solely on the pure, life-giving essence all around her. She shook her head, slowly coming up for air again. Taking big gulps, gurgling them and spitting them next to her on the grass. When she felt like there wasn’t as much grime and soot coating her innards she leaned forward again, cleaned the rest of the bile of off her face and started drinking like she had just crossed a dessert. At some point she thought that a human body should not be able to hold such quantities of water, but she just kept on drinking and drinking. Once she felt like she was not in imminent danger of dehydration she pulled back to assess the damage the cave prison had done to her. Reaching both hands into the water, cupping them together and bringing them up to her face she started cleaning off the traces of blood, ash. The cool water made her feel reborn. She stared past her reflection as she continued her ministrations, careful not to touch the back of her head too much. The water in front of her took on a brown hue but was carried downstream too fast for her to linger on it. Only once she did not feel like death incarnated, pure desecration, did her reflection come into focus. Her body stilled; muscles pulled taught. She did not dare move.

“What?”

A face as blue as the water itself stared back at her. The mouth moved the same way hers did, formed around the word she had spoken. But it was nothing but a grotesque imitation of the real her. Bringing her hands up to her face the being in the water mirrored her. A strangled gasp as the realisation sank in, that that thing was her.

Falling, choked scream leaving her, she crawled backwards. Heart beating faster, jaw clenched tight. Her whole body seamed to scream out in shared pain, nerves feeling like they had been lit on fire. Consuming blood to extinguish themselves, succeeding only in burning it as well. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing reality away. But life had never been kind to her, certainly not now. She moved her hands to her face again, touching. Nothing felt out of place. It was as it had always been. But now, in the middle of the forest with nothing but her own erratic breathing to keep her company she heard the soft clink! of glass on glass. Moving a finger to her right cheek, extending it slowly, letting it make contact produced another such sound. She snapped her hand back and in a moment of restless nervousness snapped them together. A loud clinging rang out, as if a mirror had been shattered on stone. Dreading it with every fiber of her being she opened her eyes and held her hands in front of them. Ice cold fear zipped through her body light lighting, snuffing out the fire that had wracked havoc before.

Her hands were of a light blue, the colour of the stream, an uncut diamond. Without realising her left hand moved into a fist before opening again.

“How is this possible?“

Numb to the confusion and panic in her mind, she looked down. Her clothes were gone. Scraps of them were still hanging on, burned to a crisp. Exposed to the heavens, her body was as blue as her hands and made of the same crystalline substance. Careful to hold as still as possible she moved a hand up to her hair, as soft as it had always been. Taking a strand, she brought it in front of her eyes, recoiling at the sight. The strand was shock white. It was as if had been cut form the finest jewel. She dropped it, used the tree at her back to get up, stumbled back to the stream. There, she dropped to her knees again, searching for her face on the calm surface. Found it faster than she would have liked, bared her teeth. Even her gums were fucking blue. Raising her fists, she smashed them in the face again, again, again. Until nothing was left. Still, she caught a glimpse of frightened eyes staring at her helplessly. She felt like an animal – cornered, trapped – ready to gnaw off her own leg. Blue hit blue, instead of water it was her own body. Pain didn’t register, not even sure if there was any. Again, and again her fists made contact. Her legs, stomach taking the brunt of the hits. One hand stopped responding, going instead for her head, tearing at hair, scratching over her face. She wanted to claw her own eyes out, me sure she never had to see the thing in her reflection again.

Feeling all control slipping Helga flung herself forward, meeting thrashes of ice cold blue. Waves closed over her head. Pulled under, she felt anything but weightless. Her body was like a stone, dragging her deeper and deeper. Blue, more blue met her on the way down, shouting into her ears. Arms wrapped around herself she sank, pressure making her eyes and ears pop. It built inside her lungs as well, straining them, trying to rip them open, closing them at the same time. The juxtaposition made her burn. Blackness wanted to overcome her, taking the place of blue. When suddenly, like thunder after lighting a thought dwarfed her approaching death, covered the waning unconsciousness. She could not die here, not like this. The world would not have pity for one more forgotten soldier. But fuck that.

Ice turned her veins inside out, breaking her body from the inside. The realisation took hold of all that was left of her broken spirit. Cold determination pumped through her, had her struggle against the hold of the water. She scrambled for any kind of purchase, meeting the sludge at the ground and pushed herself up. Blindly swinging her arms, her body moved up, up again. Arms feeling like lead, legs like stone, she fought herself to the surface. Chest spasming, no air left to keep it occupied. It felt like a knife was slowly being pushed inside while a hand dug itself free from inside. One more stroke, her hand broke through the surface, feeling air grab at it. With the last bit of remaining strength, she scrambled for something to hold onto and found the edge of the riverbank. Head finally rising above the water she gulped down air, only to dispel it again with a wet retch, hacking up water, more blood. Helga dragged herself ashore, shoulders shaking with exertion, arms numb. Once her body met ground, she turned herself over, legs pulled out of the water as well. Burned out, delirious from exhaustion, there was nothing she could do but lay there, chest heaving with half breaths, spittle flying. Heaven above her swirled in shades of brightness, hypnotic. Letting herself succumb to exhaustion her eyes fluttered closed, mind finally quiet.

Consciousness crept back to her once night had bathed the world in black and grey, shadows winding around trees, licking at her body. Her eyes took their time readjusting to the penetrating darkness. With a groan she sat up, feeling just as exhausted as she had before falling asleep. Her mind felt sluggish, too slow to catch onto the thoughts prying their way into the cortex. Only with time did they untangle each other, slipping free from the heaviness that had settled on them. Once she felt like she could grasp a clear understanding of her situation, Helga readjusted herself, skating closer to the river. Apprehension made the back of her neck burn, but thirst overwhelmed her fear of the river. Haltingly, she moved her hands down, up again and let the clear fluid travel down her throat. It felt soothing, the cold like a balm for her ragged and raw organ. Done, she sat back and looked around.

This situation was anything but ideal. She had to formulate a plan now. One that included getting her old body back, which she did not know how to achieve. As she had slept a thought had dislodged itself from her unconscious and carved itself a home deep in her brain. As it came back to her, she controlled the urge to throw up again. There hadn’t been anything to throw up for the past few times and there wasn’t anything now. Taking a second to regain her composure she let the disconnected mind fragment take shape.

Her body had reminded her of something, she had simply chosen not to make the connection until now. The crystal cut of her skin was akin to that of the Heart of Atlantis. It even emitted the same eerie glow. She had forgotten about it before, but back in the cave the same light had been following her. She hadn’t been in any position to question it back then, too blinded by fear, panic and the achingly deep need to get out. But thinking back, she understood that it had been her body that had radiated that shallow light. So, what now? What is one supposed to do when they find out that they have become one with the very thing they had betrayed an entire civilisation for? Ready to let them die for money. God, Helga was disgusted with herself. What kind of monster would do such a cruel thing? She felt solace only at knowing that neither her, nor Rourke had succeeded. If she survived, he might as well have too. She was more than ready to put a bullet between his eyes. Or anywhere really, she was anything but picky.

But for now, she had to formulate a plan to get herself out of this situation. Feelings of revenge would not get her anywhere. Survival came first. The way that her squad had come in first was probably destroyed, judging from the state of the cave she had been awoken in. There were other ways out, she was sure, but she had no idea where they would be located. After all she had to go through all the trouble of first locating, finding and excavating the shepard’s diary and then recruiting Milo, because no one had been able to find an entrance to Atlantis. And what of her body? The only other person she had ever seen transformed had been Kida. Had they been able to turn her back? Or was she still stuck as a piece of the heart? The thought stoke the fear in her heart, making her quiver. She did not want to be stuck like this forever. But falling into panic again was not an option. She had only herself to rely on, just as it had been all her life (trying to scratch Rourke’s face out of the picture her mind had painted). She was the only one she could truly count on. (Banishing the memory of the moment her body had betrayed her; nearly drowning her.) Locking eyes with the river, she saw that it was not as deep as it had felt then. It would barely reach her shoulders if she did choose to wade into it. How had it managed to overpower her so completely?

“Got no time for this,“ she pulled herself from her own thoughts.

If the only other person who had been one with the crystal was Kida, then maybe she should find the princess. Assuming she was still alive. Kida would know what to do, even if she might have to make her help her. The nickname left a bitter taste in her mouth. While they had been trying to locate the heart, she did not much interact with the princess. She had been too busy learning from Milo and teaching him in the same breath. Helga had been instructed to let him gain her trust. The times they did talk repeated themselves in her mind. Introducing herself and learning Kidas name. Stumbling over the pronunciation, Kida giggling and offering her the four letters that slipped like honey from her tongue now; heavy, sticking to her teeth, clogging her throat. Joining her and her people for dinner, exchanging stories of adventure and exploration. Admiring the ways her eyes glittered when she told a story of a land far away – of strange customs, stranger people – always urging her to share more. And how she had liked to listen to the princess's tales, leading her people through hardships. Grand had her gestures been as she spun a tale of purple birds with strange calls and beasts the size of a temple, roaming through the jungle. Entranced had she watched her, wishing for just a second that the night might never end. But the food had been consumed, drinks emptied, fire burned out. Rourke had excused both her and him, taken her to a remote part of their camp, tucked away from prying eyes. The natives were not to overhear their words. For the first time the secrecy stung, throat closed shut. Rourke had beamed with pride, clapped her on the back with his mighty hand and boasted of the spoils and riches they were to enjoy in the future. She had returned to the feast with a burning shame in her heart and an empty seat where Kida had rested before. Milo had been gone too. After that evening their interactions had been spars, consisting of only greetings and polite small talk, despite Helga's distaste for the latter. Still, she did not forget they way the princess had watched her that one night, eyes alight with a joie de vivre she hadn’t seen on another human being in years.

She would have to make her way to Atlantis, staying undetected. The people would not receive news well that she was alive and one with their precious Heart. Once in the palace she would have to locate the princess, get her alone and make her lift this curse. Each one of those steps more impossible than the first, she let her head sink between her knees. At least the pain in it had faded away, not even a dull throbbing remained. She would have to find something to clothe herself with. The night was not cold by any means, but sitting naked on the forest floor made her vulnerable. It was this thought that made her snap out of her self-wallowing. Getting up, she shed the last scraps of simultaneously burned and wet cloth that remained clinging to her body. Gazing around the clearing she recognised the place she had entered into the forest, remembering also that she had seen the city in the opposite direction. She would simply start walking, until she hit another vantage point from which she could correct her course.

As she started the trek her thoughts returned back to the last moments she could remember, before darkness had swallowed her. Everything was a blur of motion, pain, blood. But there was one clear memory in her mind: Rourke, above her on the balloon. The flare gun cocked in her hand. Gritting her teeth, pushing the trigger, the drawback making pain explode in her face and hand. Then, the balloon coming down, a swirling mass of fire and destruction. Scorching hot, burning everything in its way. She did not remember the impact, knew that she had been right underneath it. That she should have been dead. Distantly, she thought that the volcano should have erupted as well. But most of what she could see seemed to be completely untouched, even in a much better condition than the land had been in before her group had arrived.

Pressing on, she reached another slope, the ground winding down in a soft curve, trees growing sparse. Straining her eyes she could see the city pop up in the distance. It was not as far away as she had thought at first, but night made it hard to see.

“At least I’m walking in the right direction,“ she muttered, wondering how she was supposed to continue from here. The drop was not bad as far as she could see, but seeing alone was hard enough. Deciding against remaining resting on the ledge until day would break, she lowered herself carefully and started etching along the path. Taking small steps, she made slow progress, until her foot caught on an unseen root, causing her to lose her balance and fall. Breaking the fall with her arms, she expected to feel immediate pain, small stones scraping against the exposed skin. Stone? Instead, she barely felt the contact with the ground, registering only the fact that she way lying now, not standing. Sitting up, patting down her body, she tried to make sense of the lack of sensation. Was this normal? Should she be concerned? Not feeling pain might be of advantage in other situations, but the missing sense brought nothing more than dread with it. Opening a big hole in her stomach, filling it with nerves on the verge of destruction.

Choosing to make this another thing to ignore and deal with at a later time, Helga got up again. The things she wold have to unpack piled up mountain high. Another thing to repress. She marched on, determined to reach the city as fast as possible.

After walking for hours (her inner clock told her it had been about five), she felt weariness weigh on her eyelids, exhaustion trying to pull her to the ground. Walking for such a long time took its toll on her body. Her mind felt utterly consumed with the need for rest. But something kept her going, feeling like there was something nearby that she could not miss. She could not continue any longer like this, but she would drive herself until unconsciousness would take her again. Stumbling more than walking, she passed through the forest. The number of trees had lessened, no animals scattering trough the night or birds singing their songs. Just her and the forest. And that truck.

“Wait, what?“

Without realising she had said the words, she made her way towards the truck that was stuck deep in the earth in front of her. Stopping just short of it, she took a second to take in the scene. The earth was not of the same rich brown colour it had been before, no greenery grew here. Instead, the earth seemed scorched in parts, swept over by a kind of rock in others. The truck itself seemed to be submerged in great parts under the stone. Risking a closer look, she could make out that the metal of the car and the stone had instead come together, melted in a blur of silver-grey. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, permeated the heady wood scent Helga had gotten so used to before. It reminded her of the cave, her stone cell. With a start, she realised that this had been lava once. The volcano had indeed erupted and burned its way through the valley, taking one of the many military vehicles they had brought with them as its victim.

Slowly circling it, analysing the vehicle for a way in. The front was completely submerged in the now hard lava and most of its body had followed. There was a very obvious dent in the middle, as if the molten rock had tried to pull the truck in two directions at once. But she did find what she was looking for. On the other side there cleft a gap, big just enough for her to slip trough if she tucked in her broad shoulders. Helga did just that, hoping to find that some of the things they had stowed away in here had survived the eruption. Four of their original fifty trucks had made their way into Atlantis. In one they had stowed weapons, explosives, gun powder. The second and third had been for rations, medical kits and instruments, tents and maps. The last one had been filled with all manner of miscellaneous items; ranging from personal belongings to gas masks, to even more personal items. Since all of them looked the same there was no way to know which one this was without peeking inside.

And that is just what she did, squeezing through the hole. Standing upright in the truck made her experience a weird sense of vertigo, followed by cold dread. The cave, the cave, the cave. It kept on repeating inside her head, her own thoughts telling her to get out. Pressing her hands to her ears, letting out a growl, Helga tried to banish the oncoming panic. Feeling for something to steady herself with, her hand met the cold metal of a shelve. Lowering herself, she leaned against it. Deep breaths in, out. With more determination than actual calming virtues, she managed to stave off the anxiety that had knotted itself around her heart. Once she felt like she wouldn’t immediately keel over if she got up, she made to stand, but realised that that would block out the rest of the already minimal light that fell in. Balancing on her knees instead, she crawled forward. The smell of gun powder was stronger in here, but so was the acidic mixture of sulphur and brimstone.

“It’s not the weapons truck,“ she remarked, as her hand felt along the uneven floor.

The belly of the truck had melted into the rock and was crumbled in places, which made her search even harder. Then, her hand suddenly thumbed against a steel crate, rattling the whole thing. She pulled back a bit, to get a clear view of what she was looking at. Barely illuminated she could only make out that the crate seemed to be in good condition, except for its right edge, which had also melted, binding it to the floor. There was no lock on it, which meant that it must not have been very important. Hopeful to find something of use in there, she took the lid off. Inside greeted her the headlines of newspapers. Confused, she took one out, turned it over. It was old, the date showing it had been printed and distributed in 1860. The other issues offered similar dates, going back all the way to 1825. She disposed of them, but nothing else was in the crate. So, she moved on.

Behind the crate was a low hanging shelf which at one point had held various knickknacks that belonged to Sweet. Helga recognised then which truck she had entered. It was the one with their personal belongings. Ecstatic at first, she hoped she might find some of her own things in here. Though she had not taken any things with her on this trip that had truly held some meaning to her, her clothes and another handgun should be here. Only then did she remember that her things had been stowed away at the very end of the truck, the one that lay now submerged in lava.

“Scheiße!“ she cursed, German rolling off her tongue in times of anger much more easily than English or Japanese.

At the thought of having to search through her companions' things to find something suitable to wear, bile rose up her throat. She should not have to violate their few belongings, not after she had betrayed them so horribly. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she sat back and let out a sob she would have – in company – denied until her deathbed. But what use was holding back here? She was all alone, desperate and technically dead.

Feeling despair take hold, she made up her mind to push past the bitterness in her mouth and continue her search. What good would loyalty do her now, when clothes would be a much bigger help? Crawling forward again, she continued looking, this time keeping her eyes peeled specifically for Audreys chest, or Sweets suitcase. The others stuff might be intact as well, but there was no way in hell she would wear anything Cookie had touched, or touch what Vinny had worn.

Her search was rewarded when she laid eyes on a chest of moderate size, that, despite being made mainly of wood, remained completely intact. The lock on it too. One hand pulling at it, she realised she would not be able to crack it open with her own strength, need something to bash it in. Normally, she would pick the lock, but it was much too dark, and she had nothing to complete the job with. Then, a thought came to her. If a rock was capable of breaking the lock open and her body was one big rock now, she just might be able to open it herself. Forming a fist around it, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip. Nothing happened. Relaxing her hold for a second, she clenched it tight again, hearing a creak, feeling the metal give way. Just a moment of pressure later the material cracked apart, falling in two pieces. Helga pulled her hand back, inspecting them. At least this new body had some use. Feeling herself shuddering, she tried to stamp out the signs of an oncoming panic attack. Her body had always been useful, even now it was doing what it was supposed to. Only now it was not her anymore, not really. She had died and a ghost had taken over this thing as its vessel. Or it was another body entirely, a crude imitation of a human, made to torment her. Weak flesh pulled apart bleeding red was all she wished for, not stone harder than steel, unbreakable, no blood to lose.

Discarding the lock, she pulled the chest open. Its contents were left in disarray, not just from all the movement the truck had gone through, but also from Ramirez messy disposition. Ignoring her own distaste for anything less than total order, sifting through her belongings, she came upon what she had been looking for. Hands carefully closed around a pair of jeans, pulling them out of their confinement. She traced a finger along the seams, admiring the craftsmanship. Then, she put them down next to her and continued looking for something else she could take as well. Most of the chest was filled with overalls, gloves and wrenches, mindlessly thrown together. Near the bottom she found a pair of underwear that looked clean enough (she already dreaded putting it on) and a pair of thick wool socks. However, none of the white shirts inside would fit her. Aubrey (Ramirez, she had to correct herself) was barely 5'3. The only reason why she took her pants was because the girl had a knack for wearing them three times her actual size. They looked like sheets on her, on Helga‘s much taller frame they would hopefully sit right. She scooted back a bit and began putting on her finds. The tight space was making it hard for her, but she struggled on. Pulling on the pair of underwear first (a pair of white boy shorts that she should have probably expected from the girl), then the socks and lastly the pants. She could not stand at her full height, but even with her figure hunched over she could tell that they fitted well enough. A bit loose around the hips, but the length was good enough.

Then, she went on in her search for a shirt and a pair of sturdy boots. Finding a pair of well worn, black army boots under a collapsed closet and putting them on, satisfaction warmed her body for a moment. She had missed the feeling of support and power they gave her. On she went, looking through multiple piles of things on the ground. Many of the belongings were broken, burnt beyond recognition. At the far back, her search came to an end. Buried under a mountain of jacket crisps and weirdly enough a grandfather clock there was a shirt, looking relatively unharmed. One sleeve had a signed edge, the other was stained in soot. She grabbed it, ripped the sleeves off with ease, throwing them over her shoulder. The shirt was a button-up with the first two buttons and the last one missing. It was big, probably belonging to one of the soldiers who didn’t make it. Pulling it over her head she inspected herself. Since it was still dark it was hard to judge the look, but it would have to do.

Getting out of the truck, she stretched, reaching her full height in what felt like forever, The fresh air was nice on her face. The moon rested far up in the sky, looking down on her. A yawn overcame her, making the tiredness she had put off show itself. Deciding that she would be safe here for now and happy with her progress, Helga went back inside the truck to pull out one of the blankets she had seen and made herself comfortable against the side of the car. Tomorrow, she would continue on her journey. But for now, she deserved some rest.

Rest once you are dead, her mind whispered. But she simply shut it up, too done with it to continue her self deprecating thoughts.

*

As she had come to expect, there was nothing at the beach. A destroyed bridge, flotsam and jetsam sure, but nothing that looked like the Heart made flesh. It should have felt good, a reassurance that the peace they had finally won remained unthreatened. Instead, all Kida felt was dread. Having an unknown danger pass right under her nose was not how she expected her first days as almost queen to go. At the thought of her new position her stomach turned. It did that a lot these days. She hated having to take up the crown, fill the position her father had left. But it was her destiny. Being queen meant keeping her subjects safe and whatever was going on was not making that easy for her.

The commander and her troops, Milo and her had searched part of the forest for the mysterious source of their troubles. Coming up with nothing she had simply left them with a message to stay sharp and turned back to the city. Milo wanted to stay a bit longer and assess their machinery, curious after the strange power surges the soldiers had reported.

Reaching the outskirts of her beloved city, she took her time getting back. Though she knew that she was needed, she could not bear the thought of returning to the throne room. Finding her father gone. The empty throne, waiting for her. It would take some time for her to feel at home again. Despite their quarrels and differing opinions on nearly everything, she still missed her father dearly. Spending the past three days in her room she had done nothing but cry, cursing over her lot. Why did those damn soldiers kill him? And why hadn’t she interfered when they had brutalised him? The moment was etched deep inside her mind, replaying over and over again. A scream built up in her throat. But she was in public now, not her private sanctuary. Her pain would have to wait.

Taking the long way through the streets, she tried to banish the dark thoughts clouding her mind. This was no time for wishes of revenge, but instead all the power she had should be directed to help the people and their plight. As she walked though, came the realisation, that her people were of a much better disposition than her. At every corner stood a person, strumming, beating or blowing their instruments. People were singing, dancing, taking the hands of their neighbours and swinging them in their arms. Children screeched and laughed, running around, throwing colourful powder into the air. The sounds came together, a cacophony of joy that she could not help herself but join in.

A man seemingly not recognising her – or maybe he simply cared not – took her hand and twirled Kida around himself. Another man took his place and balanced a delicate crown made of vines and thin sticks on her head. (It was the first crown she had ever worn. And the last she wanted to.) A women came up behind her, hands bathed in purple and orange, painting a few crude forms on her back and shoulders. Two women turned to her; one pressed a piece of fruit in her hands, the other an assortment of colourful flowers, tied together with a blue string. An elderly man rested a few steps away on a wooden stool. His mouth was pulled into a wide smile, small eyes blinking in the sun. She approached, handing him the fruit, pulling one of her flowers free and placing it in the crown of vines he was wearing. He looked up at her, a silent thank you in the recline of his head. At his gesture, Kida bowed down a bit, making it easier for him to braid a small, orange flower into her crown. Once he was done, she stood, proud of it. He chuckled, then pointed towards a group of young women, dancing together. Kida gave a respectful bow, before she turned and joined them.

The women seemed delighted to have another one enter their circle, pulled her closer. Each one of them took one of the flowers they held in their hands and deftly wove it into her crown. She tried to keep up and do the same, but they changed places so fast that before she could fully secure one, another woman had taken their place. As the last one fitted a brilliantly red flower in her crown their eyes met. She looked young, barely 4,000 years old. She oozed joy, eyes bursting with laughter. The blue colour of her face tattoo lay nearly hidden under fine powder; green, blue and yellow. Once she was done, the girl tilted her head, studied Kida with an intensity the princess was not used to. Then, as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed as well, the woman shaking her head, letting out a laugh as light as the sun itself and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Kidas lips. The princess stood still at first, unsure of herself, before she returned the gesture, much more hungry for touch than the girl had expected. She pulled back, pearly teeth glinting and winked at Kida. Then, she was grabbed by a friend and the group continued on, dancing down the street, leaving her dazed.

This really was not the time for such sentiments, but that moment of brief touch had dislodged something inside her. A want, deep within her soul. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but for a few heartbeats she thought she might drown in it.

A group of children passed her, one of them stopping next to her. He pulled at her pants, held a little kite in the form of a kheeru up. A majestic bird. He looked proud to share his handmade creation. Kida inspected it, face serious. Then, she gave him an approving nod and tapped the animal on the head. The boy beamed at her, turned around and caught up with his friends, laughing all the while. The warmth that had slowly blanketed her heart receded at once, replaced with a longing so deep and profound, she had to put a hand against the hut behind her, steadying herself. Why could she not just be happy? Why did everything come with strings attached?

Unsure of how much more emotional drain she could take today; her feet began to take her back to the castle. Wanting to avoid the rest of the celebration she cursed herself for having chosen the longer, much busier path back. Slinking past her people throwing the powder in the air, catching it in their hair and sharing more flowers, fruits, felicity.

An alley opened up at her right-hand side, looking largely unoccupied. Seeing an escape route, she sidestepped those celebrating and rushed inside. At once out of the public eye she slid down the wall of the building, pulled her legs close, hanging her head.

There had always been something deeply wrong with her. She hadn’t known that at first, but to others it had been abundantly clear. She remembered the time a little bird had landed near the field where she and the other children would go to play. Her friends had ignored it, after all birds were more than a common sight in the city. But something about its little form had intrigued her, drawn her towards it until she had stood only a few feet away. It had looked at her with its little head cocked to one side, mimicking her stance. Getting down on her knees, she had broken a piece of the bread she kept in her satchel, gently thrown it towards the little thing and watched in raptured interest how it lowered its beak to pick at it. After that day the bird had shown up intermediately, always landing on the same spot. Having read up on them, Kida knew now that the little thing was a goaldahmehr; the head and underside a gleaming lemon yellow. From that day forward her satchel contained all kinds of nuts and seeds, much more fit to feed a bird than bread. She would put a bit of it in her hand, hold it out for the little one in hopes of it hoping on her hand and feeding from it. After waiting paitently for a few weeks, it did just that. Looked up at her, at the seeds in her hand, up again, then hopped right up and picked at them, nicking her skin. She wanted to cry out in surprise, but the moment had been so precious, filled with so much pride, that she kept still, biting back any sound.

One day, as she was waiting for the bird to show up, she had decided to sit on a log and watch the others play, when she noticed a clump of feathers on the ground, not too far away. Feeling cold trepidation settle in her heart, she crouched down and moved towards it. On approaching the mount of feathers, she could clearly see that it was her little bird, stomach ripped open, spilling its organs on the earth. She had let out a blood curdling scream, running off. The other children had only looked on in confusion. After that incident she had locked herself in her room and not allowed anyone inside. Her mother had been long gone already, her father growing colder, less compassionate by the day. He had ordered her to open the door. When she didn’t comply – stuck much too deep in the depressing reality of losing a life she held dear – he had threatened to let her starve in there. She had barely heard him, choking on tears and feelings too big for her small body. It had been the gentle voice of Ulkuoagkhehngkhohs that had freed her from her living nightmare. She had opened the door only for the kind cook, letting him see her puffy, red face. He had only smiled at her, wiping away the tears and snot, passing her a piece of still warm bread. It hadn’t made the loss of her little companion easier, but she did feel less alone. Her father later scolded her for becoming so riled up over a simple bird. She didn’t tell him much of her sorrows after that.

Now, much older and experienced in life, Kida was feeling the exact same way she had back then. Letting her head fall back against the wall, she looked up at the sky. Why could non of this just be easy? Deciding that she had definitely moped enough, she got up and continued down the alley. The music and laughter of the celebration was still loud, but not as overwhelming anymore. Her thoughts wandered back to the quick kiss she had shared with the young woman. It had been many, many years since she had last been with anyone. Most of her relationships had consisted of stolen touches, a kiss here or there, away from prying eyes. Sneaking out of the palace at night to share the bed with one of the girls she had known back in her childhood. Being with someone was hard. She was the princess and though Atlantean society was not as hierarchical as the one Milo was from, she still needed to be careful with whom she was seen with. She longed to have arms she could bury herself in, a neck she could whisper her darkest secrets into, eyes that would make her forget all about the world outside.

“Princess Kidagakash? Please forgive my manners. Great be the princess!“

Turning around at the words, Kida saw a woman of older age kneeling at the entrance to her home.

“Please, this is your home I have intruded on. It is me who should show respect,“ giving a short bow, Kida studied her.

The woman looked to be of the same age as the captain she had met earlier this morning. Her hair was flowing free, only a single braid framing the right side of her face. Her body was covered in blue tattoos, swirls of it winding around her limps, licking up her throat. Her clothes were simple, a pair of wide breeches and a loose top, both covered in the colourful powder of the celebration. She was wearing a vine crown filled with so many flowers it tipped dangerously to the side.

“It is a joy to see you out here. We were worried you would not join us in the celebration.“

“There were many matters that needed to be attended. But I still find time to celebrate with my people of course. It was always one of the things I enjoyed the most.“

“Trust me, we know the tales of your exploits,“ it was incredibly bold of her to openly address the princess's past. Kida could well remember the nights she spent causing trouble in the city, getting drunk, flirting with any woman who’d cross her path. Redness leapt up her neck, burning in her cheeks.

Determined on avoiding said topic, Kida thought of something else to say,“Why are you not out on the streets? Surely the festivities have not yet been concluded.“

“You are right, they are still in full swing. And I intent to join them again, but… there was a small incident that I wished to investigate further.“

“What? An incident of what kind? Did something happen?“

Uncertainty flitted across her face, “It was nothing really, only something happened with my necklace.“

She held up the string with the crystal at the end. Both eyes were drawn to it. Something stirred in the back of Kidas mind, remembering the account of the soldiers this morning.

“What is it that happened, precisely?“

“I think it will hardly be of interest to you. There must be other things, much more important than this.“

“No please, nothing is too small an issue for me. I do not want the rumour to spread that I do not care about my own people.“

“Trust me, there is no one in this land who does not hold the utmost respect for you. We all know of what you did for us. And we will be eternally grateful,“ Kida shuddered at the reminder of what happened three days prior, the Heart, "But if you wish for me to share what I saw, I will not refuse."

Kida inclined her head, which the woman took as a sign.

“As I was celebrating out on the street, I noticed the necklaces of those around me and my own were glowing much brighter than they usually are. They even started floating by themselves and some gave of little sparks. Most did not seem to take notice, much too busy eating or dancing. But I saw it. I came back here to see if anything else would happen, or if the Heart has returned to normal.“

Kidas eyebrows shot up during the woman’s tale. Exactly the same things had happened this morning. Was this a simultaneous event? Her own necklace had been completely fine. What could be causing this? Was the Heart at fault?

“May I touch it?“ she asked her, gaze fixed on the jewel.

“Of course.“

The woman shrugged of the necklace, holding it our for her. Kida gently brought her hand up and took it from her, holding it up close. Dangling inconspicuously nothing seemed off. The light reflected off of it, making the blue crystal seem multicoloured. Holding her piece of the Heart next to it, both began to emit a low humming note, the gentle glow growing stronger. But it was not as the woman had described it; no floating, energy bursts or anything else unpredictable.

Giving up, she let her own crystal fall back into place, stepped towards the other woman. She seemed taken aback by the sudden proximity; eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed, mouth pulled into a small smirk. Kida hadn’t thought about what she was doing, too caught up in the crystal to realise her behaviour. Standing now in front of her, less than a hand fitting between them she looked up at her. The other woman – only now did she realise she never caught her name – was taller by a head. Her blue eyes twinkled with unhidden mirth. Trying to still her shaking hands, she brought them slowly up. The other one saw her move, slowly lowering her head. Kida passed the necklace over it, willing her heart to stop beating so damn fast. Once the crystal sat snug against her breastbone, did she look up again. Kidas hands were still gripping onto the string – worry of tearing it far from her mind – as she felt the skin of her neck move with each breath the woman took. Eyes locked, Kida wet her lips, slowly pulling her hands back. All her mind could think of was how strong those shoulders looked, how she wanted to follow the traces of her tattoos down, down, down. Swallowing, her throat bopped up. The woman caught the movement, eyes roving their way up, coming to rest on her lips, before they flickered up to meet hers again. Kida was acutely aware of herself, the way she was standing, breathing, still had her hands on the other woman’s neck. Couldn’t stop her eyes from taking a quick peek at her lips. So full and red.

At a loss for what to do, her brain screamed at her to make a move. Nothing in her head made sense anymore, felt like all her nerves were scrambling to reach up with her racing heart. It had been so long since she had been with another woman, so long since she had felt anything but dread and despair at the prospect of her peoples future. Didn’t she deserve a bit of happiness? Even just for a moment? She hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Maybe just once, she could give into it. Her duties could wait, the palace, the work. Her people were celebrating, and she should be too.

Throwing all caution to the wind, her lips surged forward, finding the other pair in a whirlwind of teeth and touch.

“And I thought I would have to wait forever,“ the woman mumbled into the kiss.

“Oh, shut up and keep kissing me.“

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.“

True to her word, she kissed Kida, passion in each move. Her lips were a bit chapped but tasted sweet of the fruits they gave away on the street. Her hands on the woman’s neck gripped tighter, Kida drawing closer. The other woman lay her hand on her sides, moved them down, gripping Kidas hips, pulling her against her until there was no room left between them.

“I‘m Khahwwah by the way.“

“Good to know,“ where the last words Kida spoke, burying her hands deep in Khahwwahs hair.

She pulled at it, making the other woman moan. Khahwwah used her tongue to lick over her lips, nipping at them. Kida let out a gasp, opening her mouth, their tongues meeting. Electricity crackled down her body, from her face to her shoulders, through her back into her feet. The hands on her hips pulled, Khahwwah taking steps back, Kida with her. Never breaking their kiss, she manoeuvred her through the room, until she turned them around, broke the kiss. Kida looked up at her, confusion making her eyes open wide, chest rising with each rapid breath she took. The anticipation was killing her. A push right where her necklace rested made her fall backwards, meeting the bed with a soft thumb. A low whine left her, before she could hold it back. Embarrassment at being so needy when she had barley touched her burned her cheeks. But Khahwwah did not seem to care, only climbed on the bed with her, pupils blown wide with lust, expression dark. They met again in a fierce kiss.

Hands started wandering, moving over clothes, caressing her thighs before slowly moving up again. Her mouth was everywhere, as where her hands. Each touch seemed to leave burning imprints on her skin and Kida could not get enough of them. She moved lower, mouth leaving a trail of kisses. She pushed her away for a moment, but only to take off her shirt, throwing it somehwere, not caring where the priceless fabric went. In an instant, hands covered her breasts, toying with them. Khahwwahs mouth was on her again, replacing hands that continued trailing lower. There was a burning heat in Kidas core that she could barely take. Urging her to move, Khahwwah took the hint, moving her hand under the trousers and started touching her. Colours exploded her vision, Kida having to close her eyes to take it. Her hands, her mouth, they were much too much for her. A full shudder ran through her body, every muscle tensing, before she felt herself come down slowly. But Khahwwah would have none of it, plunging a finger into her heat. Kida cried out, feeling high. She moved inside of her, going faster. Sweat build on her brow, body tensing again, pressure building quickly. When she came gain, Khahwwah kissed her on the lips, pulling out. Tired, feeling a satisfied buzz in her skull, Kida crawled out under her, reversing their positions. She moved down her body, pulling pants down in one move, head nudged between her legs and inhaled. Taking the chance, she stuck out her tongue, licking her without a care in the word. Khahwwas hands buried themselves in her hair, pulling closer, moaning her name. Thighs locked around Kidas head; a rush of wetness coated her tongue. A full body shudder went through her, making her squirm away from her touch. Loosening her hold in her hair, she brought Kida up to her face, admiring.

“You are good at that,“ voice low, raspy, making heat pool in her lower belly again.

“Then allow me to continue.“

*

The stone gave way too easily under the motors of their machines. Nothing stood in the way of their wrath. They had been marching on, always on. Not once did they stop to take a breath. Many were hurt, their wounds barley and badly taken care of. Still, there was no dampening their thirst for revenge. They sprawled forth from the stone like maggots from moldy bread.

They were few, but strong. The expedition had been a disaster, hundreds of good people lost for a cause most only followed for the pay, to get away from the world and its war. They did not expect to find another down here.

Twenty-two. That’s how many of them had made it down into this godforsaken hole. They were exhausted, hurt, beaten down. But they survived worse than this; The Battle of Tayacoba, The Battle of Omdurman, The Boxer Rebellion. Battle hardened soldiers they were, having gone through fire and steel. Machines of war; unstoppable, unscrupulous.

“We made it.“

Before them the city of Atlantis layed sprawling, its streets stretching like the trenches they had fought in. Bigger even than the Leviathan they faced. And yet, they will defeat it, conquer its people, drag the princess out by her hair and sever her pathetic head from her body. Leave the land in ruin, taking the Heart, making them pay for their transgressions. Their crimes could not go unpunished. Killing their commander, second in command and the rest of their crew must be payed in blood.

Their leader stepped forward, cocking his gun. One of the soldiers approached him, dabbing a cloth against his sweating head, “How many do you think we need to kill?“

“Wish we could take all of ’em down,“ voice nothing but a growl, he aimed his gun towards the royal palace, „We’ll strike right ’ere. Make ’em see what happens when they savages mess with us.“

Turning back to the group, letting his eyes take the situation in, the countless faces turned his way. Each and every one of them looked like misery incarnate. They were hungry, tired, hurt. But he could only spare them a short break before they had to get on with it.

“Rest, eat, treat your wounds. Then, let’s roll.“

Chapter Text

Basking in silver-blue light of the Heart, the city stood tall. Buildings bathed in reminder of their victory. A victory eternalized in blood. It had been easy to pick a path through the wilderness with such an enormous monument to guide her. Finding herself on the edge of the city, the true scope of it threatened to overwhelm Helga. Every bone in her body told her to turn around, retreat into the forest, never to be seen again. It was a voice inside her head that told her to keep going, pushing against the mental blockade of her body, limps moving reluctantly, muscles contracting painfully.

Getting through the wilderness had taken some time, new body not alleviating any stress, making each step feel strange, at times ignoring her will, executing commands never send. It was disorienting at best, maddening at worst. The journey had consisted of her bumbling about like a drunkard, loosing her footing more than once, intimately familiar with the ground by that point. Evading a group of soldiers chipping away at flotsam and jetsam filling a beach, forest her cover, had been the sole victory in her book. Pathetic.

Reaching the palace would prove to be an even bigger challenge. Navigating through a city bustling with celebration was not something to be taken lightly. Waiting for nightfall, using ensuing darkness as veil, was the only right choice. Too many people were gathering on the streets. But the celebration got only more intense – people streaming forth from each house – apparently intent on staying well into the night. Helga's legs would not pass this test of time, too weak. Another plan had to be thought up.

Grabbing a cloak from a nearby stall – the owner was nowhere to be seen – linen covering her shoulders, hood up, blue and colourful pattern making up the fabric bleeding into each other. People crowding the streets were painting one another with powder, creating shapes that hypnotized the eye, braiding flowers into vine crowns. Dancing, laughing, twirling, all of it together.

Spying a small alley, half hidden behind crates, picking her way through while avoiding main roads would get Helga to the palace. Pulling the cloak tighter, slipping through throngs of people crying out in joy. Only her hand peeked out, having to hold the cloak together. Helga hoped the colour of her limb would not stand out too much, imitating the look of their tattoos.

Alleys were mostly deserted, few people ventured into them, accidents most of them, turning around immediately to find their way back into the crowd. Seldom had she beheld such heedless joy. The air was filled with laughter, music, singing and fresh food. Mouth watering, she drew the cloak even tighter around herself, barely able to see outside the hood, cutting off all outside influences.

The alley started winding back on itself, turning her around more than once. She passed the same man resting against a wall two times before she realized her predicament. Grinding molasses, inspecting the wall to her left, hands finding cracks and dents, she pulled herself up, each move easier than the one before. Physical exertion did not seem to impact her at all, body moving like a well-oiled machine. Her mind was the problem; couldn’t reconcile the way she existed now with how she should be. Thinking, maybe, that she was supposed to be dead still, unsure what to do with the very much alive piece of human it had under control. Atop the wall, her position became much clearer. The palace was close, like she could touch it if she made enough of an effort. The rest of the way would be child’s play.

*

She had seen the palace before, wandered its halls, awed at the intricately crafted pillars lining the walls, listened to the echo calling back to her as she explored room after room. Calling it massive would have been an understatement. The way it had been constructed was unlike any ruin she had ever explored. The castles of old had been big, in both function and look. This palace had been built for not just those the royal family, their servants, but most of their military, scholars, pupils and many workshops that in days past would have resided somewhere in the lower part of the city, contributing to its size.

Before the great catastrophe, it must have been magnificent. Little remained of its former self. Rooms crumbled beyond repair, ceiling caved in, water having long since carved its way through stone, filling chambers. Ponds littered more rooms than not, little animals skittering to and fro. No grand halls were left to preside in, no pompous throne. Only the lived in ruins of an age masquerading; a shadow of what it tried to imitate. It commanded reverence all the same.

When they had arrived, these peculiarities had heightened her appreciation for the foreign culture, its people. But also, the sting of betrayal yet to come. Now, use of the gathered knowledge was reserved for how well it helped her navigate the place. Nothing had changed, people bustling about, guards keeping to their well-travelled paths. Infiltration had never been this easy.

Slinking through the halls of the palace, making her way to the heart of it, bypassing any guards, her smooth advancement came to a sudden halt. The cracked stairway in front of her lead straight to the throne room, hidden behind thick swaths of fabric, little bodies of water trailing down the stones. Two guards keeping watch, both tall enough that the thought of looking up at them made her neck hurt. It was not those two which had captured her attention. Covered in familiar tattoos, a man approached them. Inching back, Helga made sure to duck behind a pillar, shadows obscuring her body.

“I have come to inform you that the princess has returned and wishes to retire to her chamber. You are to return to your rooms and take the morning off. Gdemohuergoas and Eihsoalohs will take your place later.“

“It was about time! We have been waiting for hours. I was sure they’d be done celebrating before we got the chance to join them!“

The first man laughed, “I can assure you that they are very much at it. There is enough fruit and flowers for the both of you. Now, go.“

Pressing her body against the stone, holding her breath, she waited until all three had left the foyer. There was no one left in her way, but what the guards had said stuck with her. Neither was Kida in the throne room, nor would she be returning there. If she had just returned from outside, her private chamber was where she would be heading. Where it was located, Helga had no idea. It had never come up, not been relevant to their mission. Now she could kick herself for making this mistake, carelessness was not a luxury she could afford. Alone, desperate, without direction, she tried to take a calming breath. There must be some way to find out where the damned room was situated.

Atlantean architecture, how palaces had been constructed in Europe back in time and little drops of insight gained from before the betrayal congregated in her mind. The great hall lay before her, the chambers would traditionally lay somewhere beyond it. Kida had mentioned in passing once that from her room one could see all the surrounding lands, the sea as well as the forests stretching on for miles and miles. To provide such a view, her room would have to be situated way up, in a tower, maybe. There were several of those hewn into the mountain that served as the palace's base and body. She had glimpsed them way back, in the cave. Though several were placed around, only two of them would be situated beyond the throne room, one too small to harbour a royal chamber, high up, more akin to a battles' vantage point than living space. The other, then. Deciding that such a deduction was as good a guess, she was going to get without interrogating (and subsequently having to deal with) an inhabitant.

Passing beyond the pillar, body low, ears perked, she sneaked along the edge of the room, one hand gliding over the crumbled wall, a crutch for her bodily unrest. Calling them stairs would be an insult, so Helga settled for calling them stepping stones instead. Cracked edges, plants sprouting forth, spoke volumes of the irregular use they saw. Wetness stained a part of them, permanently colouring the stone dark. Sweetness as of mould should permeate the air, coated instead in petrichor. Slinking along the stones, avoiding the plants that would give her away, Helga made it to the other side, ready to leave the room through a long, open hallway. Before she could take a step, something caught her eye.

To the left, a door lay hidden behind the great stepping stones, unassuming in its nature. Bare wood, holes chewed into the bottom, flakes coming off, handle dull in the light. Mind calm for the first time since she had woken up, scratching forming in the back, taking over each corner, taking control of her body. Bile rose fast, body clamping down, forcing it back. Darkness all that greeted her, coldness clawed its way up, tearing open her chest, trying to fit through her throat. Body not hers, not any longer.

*

Tunnels sprouting up, disappearing around bends; the cavernous system lay sprawling before them. Untouched for years, ready for taking. Twenty-two people barely filled the entrance, ceiling arching high above. The use they served in days past none of them could discern. No tools sprawled in the dirt, machines forgotten, gear lost to time. Stale air greeted them, revealing a gaping maw beyond.

Luck alone had been the cause of their discovery. Sending in two men had proven the tunnels to not be dead ended, leading instead to different regions of the land, choking them.

“Get the lights out.”

Following the command, soldiers dug out lamps they had salvaged –a measly ten of them – opened them up, procured one of the few matches they still had, igniting the bottom, screwing glass back on top. Illumination proved difficult, darkness penetrating too deeply. Forming a ringlet of light, their leader stepped forward, the rest following.

Reaching the palace turned into child’s play, the prospect of using their own land against the Atlanteans a welcome reprieve from their dreary existence. Shouldering guns, masks in place, the company set off, one goal in mind. And by God, they would not rest before they reached it.

*

Pain pulsed in tandem with her heartbeat, flaring up each time light flickered over her eyelids. A special kind of torture; caught in limbo, neither here nor there. Body without soul, soul without body; untethered, cold, naked, alone. Only thing holding them together an unseen force that made itself a home inside her mind, not overwriting her; erasing. Each breath taken one step closer to being reduced to someone else’s plaything, losing what little control she had left.

Curling in on herself, Helga tried to banish the memory of being pushed from her own mind, scrambling for any kind of purchase, finding nothing but broken tissue where brain should be. Nerves connecting, but not at her will, another taking possession of her body, making it obey their commands. Limps trembled with the reminder of being used and discarded, shivers raking down her spine, breaking through the skin. Muscles in her neck clenching so tightly, each breath felt like swallowing a stone, then pushing it back to the surface: a Sisyphean task. Each silent moment sent hot terror down her back, expecting to find herself plunged into darkness again, control taken away, body someone else’s to puppeteer.

Opening her eyes felt impossible, parts of her wishing to keep them closed forever, not having to witness control being taken from her again or being made witness to whatever had transpired in her absence. The thought had her reeling, tears pushing against her eyes, fingers raking – tearing – through her hair, spine threatening to snap under the tension, shoulder rippling dangerously, a beast barely controlled.

The longer the silence went on, the more she grew to be aware of it. Breath a springfield, heartbeat an MG 08. Agonizing moments later, nothing was happening still, Helga managed to lift her head, blinking blearily. Heart hammering, sweat making her feel clammy, she opened her eyes, greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar room. It lay exposed, no one was inside.

Trembling heavily, she leaned her weight back, meeting wood. A door blocked her way out. The voice inside had been silent, a purr of it remaining, scratching against the confines of her brain, urging her to move on. Ich kann nicht mehr. Bitte lass mich gehen. A plea to whatever plagued her mind. Never had her body felt so alien, any of the self-control she used to pride herself on long gone. A wreck was all that remained, hollowed shell housing a ghost and a puppeteer, not big enough for both. Returning her body to normal was the only way to retain her sanity, feeling it slipping out of grasp by the minute. Each heartbeat widened the chasm between physical and mental form.

The door at her back was no option, mind forbidding it. Only one way to go. Stepping into the royal bedchamber (how did she know what it was?), inspecting, she let her eyes roam about. All walls were the same length, well-kept in their condition. Where the rest of the palace had fallen into ruin, this room looked much like what one would expect from of the heart of an empire. Keeping it in pristine condition through meticulous work had paid off. Four pillars cut off the view into the corners. The minimal furniture brought back pictures of barracks she used to dwell in. Another shudder made its way down her back, unsolicited memories trudging up. Pushing them deep, deep down like all the other shit that had occurred, continuing with her examination. A closet, room divider, desk, easel and painting supplies and a bed, decorated with an excessive number of cushions, blankets, posts giving the impression the bed was hewn from stone. There were not a lot of options for an ambush, pillars sturdy, though they looked too thin to hide behind. Rummaging through the closet revealed nothing, not even a weapon stashed away.

Helga had never been at a loss for what to do, found a way to turn even the direst of situations around. Losing, giving up, or failing was simply not something that she had ever allowed herself. But now? Hissing a white flag did not seem unappealing. Hadn’t the entire plan been born out of the desperation to return to the way things were before? Her, human, Atlantis, gone. Now everything had gone to shit and there was no way to get out of it.

Words the guard had said before slipped through the whirl of depressive taunts she threw at herself. ‘The princess wishes to retreat to her room.‘ That must mean that they had managed to turn her human again, right? And if it had worked for her, then why should it not when it came to Helga. If Kida was human again, was she not vulnerable to the crystal? Milo had warned them back when they had invaded the sanctuary that they should not touch Kida, it would kill them if they tried. She didn’t want to kill the woman (why did her heart fucking clench at the thought), but making her believe she was well capable of it? Finally, something she was good at.

Waiting for Kida to enter her room, cutting off the way to the door, would be enough. Even if more people entered with her, the threatening death to their princess should be enough to deter them from trying to cross her. Satisfied with the plan, making her way to the pillar at the right-hand side, next to the door, she resigned herself to waiting. One chance was all she got. Nerves would only get in the way. Standing perfectly still, trying to channel concentration the way she had done before a battle, mission, infiltration, the sudden quiet in her mind unnerved her deeply, such a contrast to the onslaught of self-destruction she was used to hearing by now. Unfiltered hate for her body started blazing up, burning through her limbs. There was no way she would be able to resist throwing herself out one of the windows if Kida didn’t return within the next few hours.

The tortures minutes dragged on, mind increasingly rabid. Sweat had broken out across her forehead, shoulders, trailing down. Sizzling as it met stone. Arms trembling like leaves, she clawed at the pillar in front of her, stone digging into stone, holding onto the only stable thing in her life. Legs threatening to give out, vertigo spinning her head, making her stomach turn. She still hadn’t eaten anything, stomach acid and water would leave if she threw up. Blood, soot as well, or the rocks she had swallowed back in the cave. No, she couldn’t think of that now. Darkness was swiftly approaching, encasing her in a cocoon of nothingness. There were voices here, talking down to her, into her head. They rooted through her mind, searching for something. Uncaring for what they destroyed in their wake, tearing memories from their places, ripping apart her sense of self.

Footsteps snapped her out of the fog. Throwing her head back with a gasp, she clamped a hand over her mouth, feeling spit, other wetness coating fingers. Tongue darting out, tasting blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed, pushed her feet into the ground, grinding her teeth together. A single pair of footsteps rang out. Light, steady. Unmistakably Kida. The princess had a very specific kind of easiness that translated into her walk. Helga would be able to pick it out of hundreds of sounds. It meant nothing.

The steps stopped right at the door, hesitating for only a moment before the left one opened. Entering, the princess let the door fall closed, heading straight for the window on the far side of the room. Not willing to squander her chance, Helga pulled the cloak about her tighter, the hood hiding her face. Body vibrating with the aftershock of what had probably been a panic attack, she felt unsure of her chances to reasonably intimidate Kida. Feeling like she had taken a backseat, something much more animalistic, filled with rage, desperation took over the vacant spot in her mind, emptiness replaced by something worse.

Stepping around the stone, drawing up to her full height. Gait strong, the echo loud as a gunshot. The princess did not turn at first, only sign of acknowledgment the slight straightening of the shoulders.

“I told you already, I do not want to be disturbed. I will confer with the council tomorrow. Until then, I must rest.“

“I‘m afraid I won’t be able to wait.”

Whirling around so fast, Helga could have sworn her spine popped in three different places, Kida stood just a foot away from her, dagger pointed at her throat. Had it been skin, not stone, blood would cover the metal already.

“You! What are you doing here? You are dead!“

“Recognize me, did you, princess?”

“I do not care for how this is possible. It was a mistake of you to come here. I will kill you before your next words leave your mouth.“

Taking her at face value, Helga responded to the challenge, moving her hands up to uncover her hood. Letting it fall from her face, a shocked gasp left Kida’s mouth, face pulled in a grimace, body flinching back.

“How is that possible? What are you? What is going on.“

A throaty chuckle left Helga, carrying no amusement, mouth pulled down, “I am like you.”

Snarling, snapping her teeth, Kida took a step towards her, thinking better of it, stopping a foot away, “Do not dare compare yourself to me! You are a murderer and monster, deserving of nothing but the worst death!“

Though the memory of what came after eluded her, Helga was sure that the moment the balloon had come crashing down on her brought about just that, “I did already. Now, I am back.“

The next words took all her self-control, tongue tasting iron, “I need you to turn me back. It worked for you, so it must for me as well.“

Eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pulled into an O. Then, a laugh left her, shaking Kida’s entire body, sounding void of any joy.

“What? In what mad world would I help you?“

Baring teeth, Helga took a step towards her, noticing the answering flinch. The laugh had stopped, tension filling the space between.

“I still remember Milos warning,“ she pitched her voice higher, adding a nervous quality that was far from her normal tone, skin crawling talking like that, “Don’t touch her! It might get you killed! The crystal reacts to threats!“

Realization dawned on Kida, taking another step back, “So what? Either I help you, or you kill me right here? What a coward you are.“

The spite in her voice made Helga feel apprehensive, fear evident, cornered as she was. A predator prowling right before its prey, ready to pounce. Disgust wormed its way through her brain, recoiling at the thought of what she was doing. Pushing against it, stamping it into dirt. This was the only way. But her pause had given Kida a moment to react.

Without hesitation, she pulled the dagger back, sprinted past Helga, pulled at the door. Before she could get it open, Helga pushed past the intrusive thought, turning around, pouncing on the princess. One hand grabbing at her tunic, strength of her grip coming unexpected, Kida lost her balance, falling back, right into Helga.

Realization dawned on both at the same time. Like statues, they remained frozen, not daring to breathe. Nothing happened. Startled, but triumphant, Kida turned around. Helga had touched her, yet she remained physically unharmed. The crystal did not kill her then.

Finding strength in the confirmation that Helga could not fulfil her threat, she pulled back her blade, aiming at the throat, lunging. Helga grabbed her arm before it could make contact. Kida put more strength into it, pushing her opponent against the wall, back pressing against stone. Feeling the blade scrap against her jugular, she had to retaliate. Moving fast, Kida had no time to dodge, fist flying towards her face.

It never made contact, hovered instead an inch away from her. Trembling with the weight Helga had put behind it, pushing against an invisible force. Kida’s eyes locked onto hers, confusion pulling her expression into a tight scowl. The sudden loss of control over her body made Helga feel disoriented, eyes flickering between the fist and Kida. Jaw clenching, teeth creaking dangerously. Pain started to erupt in her hand. Like liquid fire it spread through her veins, the elbow, neck. A strangled gasp broke past her lips, blood spilling down the corner. Red blinding both, their attention snapped towards the source of light. Shocked cry leaving her, Kida pulled back.

The arm spasmed, cracks forming through which red light pulsed. Agony surged through her, mind-numbing. Around her, the air around took on a sharp scent, swirling. Unable to control the limb, she fell to her knees, banging it against the stone, slams ringing out, each one sharper than the last. Not alleviating the anguish, struggle continuing.

Voice ringing out, barely audible over screams and roaring mind. Blood rushing, carrying fire reduced the world to her pain. The source of all; her arm.

Then, something that hadn’t been there before. Touching her face, pulling at her body. Head moving against her own will, eyelids squeezed shut.

“You need to calm down! You are going to kill us!”

Panic in the voice made her eyes snap open, vision bathed in white. Muscles pulled so tight; spine creaking under the pressure. The sound had her blinking her eyes, dispelling the static, locking desperately onto the first thing they could make out. Kida was kneeling there, arms outstretched, touching her. She couldn’t feel it. Mouth moving, words seemed to leave it, clearly terrified. Helga tried listening, rushing blood drowning everything out. Eyes watering, head sinking forward under the distressing pressure, voices in her mind getting louder. Angry, screaming. Throwing her head from side to side, trying in vain to dislodge the onslaught of incomprehensible emotions that flooded her. Again, and again something inside her cried out, sounds forming words, forming a sentence, understanding dawning on her.

You hurt her

One moment of mind splitting clarity. Kida’s hands on her shoulders, scared breathing, light falling in through the windows. All of it crashing down. Pain an all-consuming maelstrom; arm writhing, voice screaming like a gunshot to the head, blood clogging her mouth. Sentence repeating, sharp enough to taste.

“No,” pressing the words past her clenched jaw, “I didn’t.”

No use, volume increasing. Dying to prove it wrong, she looked up, the woman she betrayed on her knees in front of her. It was hard, eyes overtaken by darkness, flickering back to light, everything too much for her fried nervous system. Blue eyes keeping her steady. Kida is okay, she’s alright, alive, right there. Siehst du es nicht? 

“I am okay, you did not hurt me. Just calm down, you have stop this!”

Helga listened, understanding for the first time. But the voice kept getting louder, skull splitting apart.

Left arm not under her command any more, moving up, up, then there was something soft in her grip. Shaking still, but whatever it was did not flinch away from her uneasiness. Blinking blood from her eyes, realizing what it was. Kida had her arm in her hands. Holding it to her throat, around her throat. She looked afraid, but not of her. For her? Before the thought could unfold, the voice calmed down. Raging beast laid to rest, wriggling around her brain, but settling, making itself smaller. Then, withdrawing, leaving completely.

Left in shatters. Brain feeling violated, dissolving the reality she cradled in acid, robbed of all autonomy. Once the feeling of having been gutted like a fish abated a bit, she looked up.

Kida still had her hand around her throat, the other was clenching Helga's shirt. Throat aching, blood pooling on her tongue, sharpness digging into the skin of her cheek. Dropping her head, dry heaving. She spit on the ground. Blood and a broken tooth hitting the floor, grey coloured red, “What the fuck was that?”

The glare Kida threw at her would have been deeply unnerving had she not died before and been seconds from meeting the same fate again. Now, it did not phase her. Instead, dread, confusion, fear, all sat tangled up together, pushing at the place her head rested. Trying to take the space over.

Silent tears escaped the princesses’ eyes as she dropped Helga's hand with a clack of her teeth.

“You nearly killed us both! And now you are asking me what happened? How dare you.”

Sapped of all energy, Helga tried not to spiral again. A sharp retort would have sliced right through the woman in front of her, would it not be for their position. Tears, quivering voice, the tremor running through her body gave away just how affected Kida was by the events.

“I remember less than the thoughts in my own mind. So please – princess – enlighten me,” hadn’t meant to sound this rude, but there was nothing left in her to uphold the usual, poised persona. Impulses grabbed her from within, desperately clawing at her brain inside, spreading down, choking her. She had to know what happened to her. Prevent it from happening again.

Eyes cast down; they found her arm. It lay on the ground, unmoving. Returned to its original sleek surface, no trace of the cracks or the red light left. Sighing, Kida slumped back, resting hands on knees, eyes looking her up and down. Inspecting her, searching. Mind too scrambled still, Helga couldn’t keep up with the developments.

“Well, you tried punching me,” now her gaze did burn, making Helga incline her head (also not expecting the forthcoming answer), “It never happened. Your arm started falling apart, cracks lining it, light coming shining through. Like an infected wound. Then, you were screaming, and the room was swallowed up in darkness like night had come to claim it early.”

There was more Kida wanted to say, the way her throat bopped up and down, tongue darting out, gave her away. No words left her. The information made her thoughts spin, none clear enough to grasp. World slowed down, or just her. Underwater, lungs constricted.

“The darkness -,” clear words broke through the bubble, world returning to its normal spin, “- flowed through me, made my chest seize up. Drowning on dry land. I could do nothing to stop it, until I saw it come from you. With each pulse of red, shadows left your arm as well, swallowing the room up. I tried snapping you back, but nothing worked. You did not even hear me, I think. I thought we were going to die, world growing hazy. Then, you said my name.”

Searching through the splinters that made up her mind, coming up empty, this came as a surprise.

“What?”

“I can only tell you of what I saw and heard myself. Do not -,” the aggressiveness pierced through her fog well enough, “- accuse me of lying. You cried out, and I could finally understand you. You said something about hurting me, or rather, that you did not hurt me. With the darkness intensifying, the only thing I could think of, was to make sure you did not kill us both. So, I decided to…”

Sentence trailing off, Helga felt unease course through her at being reminded of what Kida had done. Was that why Kida pulled her hand against her throat? Made herself purposefully vulnerable to demonstrate that she wasn’t hurt? God, that would be fucked up. A small part stirred in her, beating it down, the only way to continue the very one-sided conversion without drowning in the implications of what that sacrifice meant for them.

There would have been many ways to end the danger from Kida’s side: leave, leave faster, leave and never look back. She had chosen to stay, no sense at all. Giving Helga – one partly at fault for her father’s death – opportunity to get revenge served on a silver platter. It wasn’t a decision Helga would have made, neither past, present, nor future. Kida had been naïve to think it a viable plan. Which made it even more infuriating that it did work.

Mind trying to pull itself back together made thinking easier. Her hand – betrayer one – twitched. Thought worming itself into her brain.

“May I?” in the same breath, she could have asked Kida to throw herself from one of the windows, dim-witted as it was. Frowning upon her, mouth curled in distaste.

“What?”

Retort not even past her lips yet, Helga moved the same arm as before. A split second long it refused to move, not hers to command despite being her own flesh and blood. Stone and light? Scheiße , this was confusing. She cursed more than usual, unease making her body tremor.

Kida grabbed it with an iron fist, not budging an inch, face snarling, “What little game are you trying to play?”

“I mean to test a theory. But I cannot do it alone,” honesty came easy to Helga. Lied well, often, a prerequisite for her job. Deceiving did not spark joy; it was revealing truths she revelled in. Kida rolled her shoulders at the bluntness, hand falling away. Eyes unblinking, other hand twitching towards the dagger she held before. It lay discarded several feet behind them now. Helga held back from cocking her head, unclear why Kida was unarmed.

“Do it, then. If you try anything, I will end your miserable existence right here. Killing your kind does not trouble me,” words passed through, Helga too focused on what was in front of her.

A calming breath, stretching out the hand (thank God it obeyed), she moved it towards the other's arm, letting just the tips rest on it. Underneath, the skin felt cool, soft. Tracing further up, it raised, a small scar passing, skin warmer here. On she went, heat amassing beneath fingers, brown skin gaining a red hue. Then, blue gathered at her fingertips, pliant under her ministration. Eyes tracking absent-mindedly behind the caress looked up, place she was touching sinking in. Hand resting against Kida’s cheek – tattoo emitting a gentle glow – the princesses’ eyes squinting at her. Brows knitted, not in anger, lips parted, meaning to speak. At once aware of their position, Helga withdrew her hand, burning up.

“So?”

“What?”

“Your theory?”

“Ah, right. It stands to reason that my touch cannot harm you. Meaning to hurt you will make my body mirror my intent, causing it to reject the notion and turn on me.”

“When you meant to punch me?”

“Like that.”

The theory had Kida thinking, tapping a finger against lips, “You are one with our Heart. We made peace with it. Now, it means to protect us from any threats, it would seem. We cannot be certain, but it is as far as we will come with the limited information we have gained.”

“Can you help then?”

Having asked once before, doing it again should have felt more like a chore. Mind still in the process of reknitting itself, getting the wiring right. Something broken taking away her pride; baring of her need did naught but pressure behind her heart and desperation bitter on the tongue.

Unlike their first confrontation, Kida looked at her, face relaxed, head titled to the side. Had her eyes always been this blue?

Sighing, leaning back, Kida stared at the ceiling, smacking her lips. Neck free of any marks, something in Helga's chest came loose, breathing easier.

“There used to be people we called dreamers. The Heart chose them, gifted the ability to understand its will. They received messages in their dreams, translating them for us. None but them able to interpret its speech. Never had there been many of them and after our connection to the Heart became severed, they and their talents became lost to time. None remain,” One hand fiddled with a strand of her hair, the other rested on her knee. Helga hung on every word like a drunk on his last bottle of beer, “There are no others who could help us, explain why our Heart would choose to bind itself to someone like you.”

The little monologue fired her on, Kida balling her hands into fists.

“That cannot be. You turned back, there must be a way to turn me back.”

Exclaiming sharply, Kida stared at her, “If there was, I would have you hauled off already. Not remain sitting, talking with you.”

Silence made tension palpable. Icy water of the river swept over her, pulling her under. Pulling at her clothes, jamming its cold, cold hands into her limps, dragging, jerking her into a swirl of thoughts, memories she tried to bury. Choking on air, death clear inside her mind. She died once, now she would again. All of this for nothing. A pathetic way to die.

“Cease that!”

Getting snapped out of a spiral of self-destructive thoughts and behaviours by your enemy had to become ineffective at some point, medicine taken for too long losing its effect. Helga had not had as many panic attacks in the past year as Kida had pulled her out of in an hour.

“I don’t know what is happening to you, but each time you get this look in your eyes, your arm starts spewing blackness again. I am not dying today.”

True to her word, remainders of black light flickered along her arm, sulphur singing air. Kida made to stand, abruptly returning to her position.

“We may not have a dreamer any more, but we do have someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?”

Kida’s gestures brought Helga back to the evening spent at the banquet. Each story told accompanied by a wave of the arm, swing of the fist, body language undaunted, free. She felt her eyes zeroing in on it now.

“Becoming a dreamer is something out of our control. The Heart picks whom it desires. The chosen one gets taught what they need to know from the ones who came before them. Though there is no sure way to know who will be chosen, there is a family known to have garnered the Hearts favour over others. Its last dreamer – the last one who lived in my time as well – died many years ago. But his daughter is still alive.”

A warm thing spread through her chest; chill chased away for the first time since waking up again.

“I will call on her. She might not be a dreamer, but there is hope she learned from her father. I cannot think of any other solution.”

“Get her, then!”

“You are in no position to make demands. Count yourself lucky, that I did not cut out your tongue to stop you from spewing any more nonsense than you already have.”

“I do not care. Just get her here,” words left her, no chance of holding them back, body betraying her in this way, “Please.”

Biting her tongue, blood coating it anew, avoiding the princesses gaze, she swallowed the liquid, relishing in the iron taste dripping down her throat.

Without another word, Kida stood, did not turn around to leave, hand twitching at her side, then, extending towards her, palm open. Not in a state to refuse such help, Helga flinched unwillingly once the palms connected. Hoisted up, the movement made irritating lightheadedness spread through her body. Each limp weighted more than a knapsack, German military training hardly forgotten, everyday like death reborn.

Leaning more on Kida than she would ever concede, the princess took on the arduous task of moving her towards the bed. Edge reached, she let herself fall back on it, uncaring what lack of discipline the move displayed. Blankets, cushions gave way under her, dampening her fall. Soft fabric touching her skin made it prickle. Turning slightly to the side, Helga traced a circle into the layers, each move making goosebumps break out. Experiencing a luxury she never had before was unnerving.

Raised an army brat, there had been little comfort and seldomly good things in her life. Not no things, but most had been taken away from her. It was a hard lesson, taught through pain, punishment, prayer. The only path to survival lay in oneself. No one could be trusted with another persons life, not when their own was at stake. She knew it, everyone did. Numerous times had she chosen herself, not the soul crying out to her for help. Did she deserve such things as a bed, blankets, pillows, a comforter bigger than the eye could see?

Tears traced their way down her cheeks, cutting new, unknown paths. Fuck, when had she last been this pathetic? It had meant to be a rhetoric question, the ones she liked best, real answers couldn’t hurt her here. Her brain still supplied her with vivid imagery.

A girl, just sixteen, beat repeatedly for kissing another girl. Punished for getting caught, daring to talk back. Women; gnarled and vicious-eyed, pine wood snapping on a back, skin peeling back, sticking to the offender. Blood; dull, dirty, sullying a pew. Crying holy scripture, having it shoved back down the throat, told it was staining the Lord’s name.

“Sit up.”

This could not go on any longer. Thoughts having a strong grasp on her emotions, each one the power to sweep her into a stream of depressive, suicidal hatred. Where had her usual control gone?

Dragging an arm along her face, roughly wiping at the tears, Helga made to sit up, slumping down, arms giving way under her weight. Kida leaned over her, one hand at the shoulder, touching the shirt. A barely there connection, on the brink of severing.

“Do you hear me, Helga?”

Glorious was not how it should feel, to hear her name from those lips. So used to it being synonymous with maggot, monster, murderer. It had been that way for so long, she had forgotten it could mean something else besides abomination. Nothing good, but neutral. Treading the line of ‘fucking piece of shit’ and ‘tolerable piece of shit’. Lightheadedness stronger, blood rushing, drowning the outside out. World fading, storm inside her head – a tightly knitted ball of crushed up feelings, emotions, memories crumbling together – not important any more. Blissful seconds of nothingness swept over her, before darkness claimed its place.

*

Helga's sleeping form made Kida cock her head to the side, lower lip caught between her teeth. Only her upper body rested on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Though laid on her side – head buried so far in the comforter Kida could not make out any of her features – most of her body faced up, one arm pulled over her head, the other stretched out, reaching for something. Openness, vulnerability was not what she had expected from her even in this position. She took up space still, refused to shrink away. Heartbeat taking a moment too long to continue its rhythm, she sighed. What use was there in waking her again? Helga had proven to be in a less than stable state in what little time they had spent together. Arm nearly killing them had been the deep end, constant lapses in their interactions – moments Helga had seemed on a different plane of existence, not registering any of the things happening around her – creased her brows. A wave growing in height, left unsupported, dragging along the seafloor. Kida had to prevent her from reaching the shore, collapsing in a break.

Being one with the Heart only worked to complicate the matter. How could it be that the one thing that had for its entire course of existence only interacted with Atlanteans suddenly chosen an outsider to melt with? To what end? How was any of it fair? Her people had suffered more than enough. They did not deserve to be put through more misery.

Time spent crystallized was a haze of red-blue shadows dancing in the back of her mind. Nothing concrete remained. It was Milo who had diligently filled in the blanks for. Explained the fate of her kingdom and people-betrayer Rourke. His end filled her with grim satisfaction, suppressing it not achieving anything, despite not being willing to give into such deep emotions. Being the only other person once part of the Heart, her experience would be of little value to Helga. If it had been possible for herself, there must be a way to get the Heart to release its hold on her too. The dreamers' daughter would hopefully prove to be the right step.

Leaving the bed, turning around, eyes roaming over her belongings, mind lit up with an idea. They settled upon rope near her desk. Picking it up, weighing in her hands, she gave a short nod. The rope itself was neither thick nor very sturdy. Its use had been primarily for securing art pieces that had been a bit too heavy for the princess alone to carry. Not made to bind a human, much less one as strong as Helga, but they would have to do. Taking it, making her way back to the sleeping woman, she considered the best way to go about this. Waking her would pose no trouble, telling her state of mind another story. Better to let her sleep. Shoulders slumping, rope settling at the foot of the bed, resigned to helping her once more.

Helga had not moved, body resting like a stone, chuckling at the word play. Carrying her before had given Kida a small insight into her body. Feeling not much heavier than before – she did not actually know how much Helga weighted, could only estimate – underlying tightness to exposed muscle gave an impression of the power that lay dormant right now. Taking hold of her legs, first up, then down, once they hovered over the blankets. Having rightened the woman’s form, taking the rope up again, she grabbed her arms, pulling down. Once in the right position, she bound them, tighter than necessary, quenching a vindictive grin. Bound at the wrist, not much rope left, moving down to the ankles, she bunched dirty pants up, binding them as well. Done, Kida stepped back.

Victory falling prey to a pit opening in her stomach. Throat tight, mind trying to reason with itself. There was no way she would trust this woman. Could not leave her unbound while she left to fetch a messenger. Even calling for a guard would require leaving the room. No rational argument could assuage the uncomfortable pit, expanding, nudging her heart. Teeth clicking, she stepped towards Helga again, undoing the knot on her legs, tying the end of the rope to a bed posts. Made of stone, they gave her a little reassurance not to break upon the smallest ministrations.

Pit retreating, simmering barely beneath the surface. Deciding to act, Kida looked down at her one last time, before turning, making her way out the room. She would have to notify guards, order them to take up post outside. The pit grew teeth, bitterness clouding her mind. The daughter had to be found, Milo filled in, as would the rest of the crew once they sorted this mess.

*

Sleep had never fought to keep her in its arms. It did, now. Pressing matters in her mind – though she was not aware of just what they were exactly – the need to wake up, gave her the necessary advantage.

Light danced across her face, nose itching. Shaking her head, Helga took a moment to herself. Sleep had not felt this good in a long time. It was something done in haste, under duress, machine gun drumming in the back, promise of a bullet between the eyes making each close of them a betrayal to life. No dreams, no rest. Barely enough shut-eye to keep her running for another twenty-four hours.

Opening her eyes, gaze caught the window, gentleness of the light bathing stone in soft white, comforting. Dust flickered through the air, salt on the breeze. Slow, steady heartbeat unfamiliar, mind free of worries.

Reality seeped through the cracks of the picture, bliss turning over. She should not be here. Shooting up, body hot under sudden pressure in her mind, slivers of what transpired pieced themselves back together. Mind stitched like a wound left to fester made her realize her transgressions. Coming here, intruding on the palace, Kida’s room. Talking, attacking her, dying all over again. Nearly. Kida helped her, stopped her from spiralling out of control, a weapon overheating. Carried to bed then, too exhausted to think, darkness a welcome respite.

Should she be here now? No, not at all. The conversation with Kida shouldered its way to the front of her mind. Explanation of the Heart, dreamers, a daughter who could help her. Still fuzzy, hard to get a good grip on, but the memory felt less like a fragmented fever dream.

Shaking off sleep, she made to stand, feeling resistance coming from her arms. No, no, no, no, it could not happen again. This was her body, why would it not listen? Mind trying to unravel again, barely holding itself together. Putting a bandage on a severed limp, expecting it to fix the body. Chest squeezing painfully, body going into a frenzy. Her right arm hurt, sharp stabs pulsing up in time with her heartbeat.

A tugging caught her attention, through the veil of panic. Looking down was not something she wished to do, her arm would cause her to fucking lose it. Yet eyes did not register red or black light, caught sight of a thin rope instead.

Head thrown back, manic cackle rattling her chest, body straightening itself beneath her. Having her arms bound was a small caution to take. Leaving a threat unattended was not normal, why Kida would resort to such an action was beyond her understanding. Panic receding, she inspected the rope. Thin, looking like twisted jute, smelling earthier. Giving a testing tug, the bonds between her wrists strained, not tied in any way she would have done it herself. The rope held fast, not giving an inch, yet the inexperience could be seen in the knot. Had there been any will on her side to break free it would not stand a chance, flimsy material barely clinging on. The other end wrapped around the bed post in a simple single-column knot. Between here and there must be a meter of room to maneuver.

“She must not have tied anyone up, if this is her idea of a job well done.”

Only now noticing it, she had begun to slip out of her bindings. Putting an immediate stop to the action, resisting her instincts, she sat up at the edge of the bed. Kida hadn’t left her in a dungeon to rot (wasn’t sure if they had one) or sicced the guards on her. Though it might just be a bridge before collapse, trust was between them. Helga's life hinged on her readiness to help outweighing the want to see her blood spilled on the floor. Fleeing would burn said bridge.

Disgruntled, but deciding to stay put, she shrugged of the cloak clinging to her. Hands caught hold of the fabric, pulling it to her front. Powder from the celebration all over. Wrapping it over her right arm – which was much harder with only a bound hand than it had any right to be – covering the offending limp in it. Out of sight, out of mind. Body shuddering, mind coming to a rest once it was hidden. An animal calming once its rival had been driven away.

Resting felt wrong. She did not belong on this bed. Stained it, not with blood, but her being, which was worse. No stopping vile energy from seeping out, corrupting everything she touched. Rotten carcass attracting first flies, then scavengers; only she was both carrion and its eater. But flee where? No option to stay beside the bed. Sitting on the ground, back pressed to the wall; the implications alone killed her. Vulnerability, trust, submission. She was none of those things, would not debase herself in such a way. Standing then? Stamina had always been her strong suit, made her one of the best. Playing, hiding, running, fighting. Didn’t matter, she would get it done. Standing had been second nature back then. When she had enlisted. It wasn’t now. The strain it put on her body was not a price she willed to pay.

Door creaking open breaking the line of thought staying progressively less on track. Through slipped Kida, careful to keep the room concealed from sight, sliver of the one beyond visible. Letting it fall back into position, turning around with a sigh, shoulders drooping, she caught sight of Helga. Awake. Straightening, one arm twitching towards her back.

“You are awake, then.”

Answer a short hum, keeping her eyes on Kida who advanced towards her, something warm nestled inside her chest. Kida closed the distance with big strides, pulled towards the rope. Tension rising, puffing out her chest, grinding her jaw, anything to make herself bigger in front of Helga; relaxed, reclined, eyes lazily roaming her body. Flinching back when Kida bent at the hip, hand tugging on the rope unexpected contact, false bravado slipping, distressing her. Brows crinkled, strands of silvery-white hair falling into her eyes, Kida met her frazzled expression. Hand sliding over the bunched-up cloak, sensation – dulled as it was – sent tingles over skin, making nerves underneath light up like fireworks. Shuddering (not unpleasantly this time), Helga broke eye contact, settling on the wardrobe at the far back instead. As the hand progressed forwards, tugging at the cloak, Helga's jaw snapped audibly shut, eyes flickering down, frightful gasp followed by a broken ‘Don’t’ leaving her lips.

Gaze softer, brows lifting, Kida looked at – through – her, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“Alright.”

Straightening, stepping towards the bed post, Kida let out a soft huff. Helga tried to breathe again, chest cramping. Tension holding her body together, each muscle contracting painfully. Lightness weaved through the cracks in her mind at being respected, having someone listen, adhering to her boundaries. Not used to it at all.

Kida gave a tug on the other end of the rope, inspecting the knot for a few seconds.

“Is this necessary?” rhetorical if any question ever was. Were their position reversed, Helga would not have hesitated to put a bullet between Kida’s eyes or thrown her out a window. It need not even be Kida. Fill both roles at once, versatile like she was. (Self-destructive, mind supplied instead).

Satisfied with the rope, Kida turned, cocking her head.

“I will not take any chances with a prisoner like you.”

“There is nowhere for me to go. Not like this. Escaping is the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Be grateful you are alive. Though your outside may have changed, your insides will be the same. If I was in the mood, I must only dig, puncture each one of your precious little organs, make you taste what foul blood you have inside of you. Stain your body red again.”

No use denying the truth of the words. Kida stood little chance trying to harm her. Gratefulness was what Helga should be showing her. Cooperation not enough, life – body, mind and soul – depending entirely on Kida’s goodwill. Grateful wasn’t how she felt, neither in the past nor now. Tension lessened in her posture however, shoulders tipping forward, spine less straight. She was no threat to Kida, would prove it somehow. Locking eyes with the princess again, meaning to speak, faltering at the expression greeting her; Kida’s face warped into a scowl, frustration circling pupils, eyes unseeing. Reaching out with bound hands, Helga called out for her. Feel the warmth of her skin pulsing underneath, replaced by cold air, as this time it was Kida who flinched away, making space between them. Helga did not want it.

Turning away, Kida paced to the desk at the end of the room, pressure in her every move, veins in her neck standing out prominently. Giving her room to breathe, just as Kida had done before, Helga turned around, facing the window. The light outside had dimmed, orange burying blue.

“When will the girl arrive?”

Resigned to waiting in silence, expecting the query to remain unanswered, Kida surprised her, “I sent word less than an hour ago. She lives on the outskirts of the city. It will take another hour for her to reach the palace.”

Kida did not sound all there, voice a million miles away, on another plane entirely. Minutes passed, silence settled, none of them moved.

Most of Atlantis was not like anything she had ever seen, filled with wonders, beings beyond her dreams, yet this sundown was a familiar one. Red overtook orange, spreading its colours like bloody rivulets escaping from a wound, soaking cloth and skin, staining all. Savage, hypnotising even.

“Helga-“ name weaved its way through her mind unbidden, caressing the soreness clinging to it, “-Why did you do it?”

Red deepening, pitch black taking its place at the point sky met earth, horizon bathed in darkness.

Each man and woman aboard the Ulysses had had a reason to take part in the mission, personal stakes. How do you explain despair to someone who has never lived to see a war? To not know how it tears good men from their lives, swallows them up in gunpowder and fire, spits out hollow shells, broken, alone, so afraid of dying they will kill anyone else. Wishing to shield those you love from this fate. Fight to stop destiny and men mightier than you from turning your loved ones into machines of war. It is a simple motivation, yet there are no words for it.

Golden specks of light diminish under red occupation, one last glimmer, before they vanish. Gone forever. There will never be another sky like this one.

“My brothers. I did it for them,” it’s not a tale meant for sharing. Not a secret either, but each one of their company had known not to press the matter. Rourke had made sure of that.

A slight shuffling noise behind her, then, the blankets started dipping.

“I do not have siblings, always wondered what it would be like, envying those who did. What are they like?”

Starless, the night promised to be. Red eradicated, black reigning the sky.

“There were five of them. I wanted none,” surprising herself, a rough chuckle left her, echoing around the room, “My father always wanted a big family. My mother simply went along, I always suspected she was quite content with just me.”

“I can imagine it quite well. You, five little boys, running around, roughhousing.”

“They looked up to me, did everything I did, no matter how much it annoyed me. Sometimes I would yell at them to leave me alone, storm off, find them lingering ‘round another corner. Used to drive me insane. But they grow on you.”

“What are their names?”

“Wilhelm was the oldest, always behaved like it too. Then came Friedrich, Johann and Arthur, though we never called him that. He was Alfie to us, then Alexander, the youngest.”

Darkness reached the windowsill, stretched far as the eye could see.

“I did it for them. Couldn’t let ‘em join a senseless war. I fear what my failure means for them,” the admission has her curling into herself, not caring about the watchful eyes staring into her back. No room in her heart to grieve, striking through, cleaving open the threads holding her together. Not caring about the grief she held for herself already, intruding.

“I meant to buy them out of their service, make sure they didn’t join the war.”

Pulled apart at the seams, hand at her back putting her together again, pieces wrong, fitting, nonetheless. Flesh knitting itself together, broken mind, and broken soul, and broken body. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

“I am sorry.”

“It was up to me to make sure they are safe.”

“You should rest.”

Gentle words spoken, infinitely fragile in the space between, glass ready to shatter. Taking them, clinging on. Letting them (and soft hands) lower her onto her back. Head – heavy, dark thoughts spinning, crashing into each other – meeting soft fabric underneath. Darkness outside meeting her inside. Invading wherever she went, never safe from it, free to leave. Fingers on her forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. Featherlight touches gliding over, moving down, threading through silver, crystal hair. So unreal it must be a dream.

*

Not once, but twice Helga had fallen asleep on her bed now, in her company. Head laid to rest on her thigh, no chance to convince herself the interaction held no meaning. There was still fire burning inside her, waiting to consume Helga. Waning, barely a flicker now, a hard cry from the roaring wildfire it had been before. But then, it had not been meant for her alone. Rourke’s name was flickering in it too, as were all of those who had tried to take their precious Heart, dooming them to a cruel death. Sitting here now, an enemies head resting on her lap, hand carding through soft strands of crystalline hair. It wasn’t meant to go like this. Not at all. Staying where she was, Kida continued her ministrations, pulling a sound akin a purr from her throat. Thudding against her chest, pulling at heartstrings. Could something cruel be soft? Flowers thorns, water currents, blinding light, all things full of beauty, hurting the same.

She wasn’t stupid, had taken every chance to get Helga to back off, make her understand her place as a prisoner of the palace. Threatening her with an inhumane death, because that was what Kida desperately wanted to see in her. Something inhuman, otherworldly, not deserving of saving. Once the words had been spoken, she had felt disgusted at herself instead, not Helga the monster.

Helga had reached out to her then, hands nearly touching fabric separating skin. Look in her eyes so open, unguarded. Calling out to her, twin ship. Like recognises like. Mind wishing it was different, heart yearning to reach out. Finding comfort or a sharp blade. Cradling the abyss swirling inside, Helga dipping her fingers in, reaching deep enough to pull at whatever she found. Making her feel whole. Needing to put space between them, retreating to her desk, desperately trying to calm a racing mind, erratic heart, twitching hand.

Ensuing conversion had been a last effort to find something that vilified her enough to make her ram the blade between her rips. Crack the stone beneath again, again, again. Make it crumble like an ill constructed clay bowl. There had been no such gratification. The tale of family tragedy awaited her instead, tearing further at Kida’s fragile composure. Body moving of its own accord, throwing caution, decorum, carefully curated distance to the wind, placing itself opposite Helga's. Listening to her short tale. She had brothers. Fought for them, missed them, mourned them. No, truly there was no excuse to have Helga rest on her again. Only maybe, that she liked it.

Time passed as a knock sounded at the door, shedding the veil of thoughts encompassing her mind.

“Princess Kidagakash, we have brought Threhuihnthoash, just as you ordered. She comes accompanied by Milo, the gamosetot. May they enter your chamber?”

Calling out, she bid they wait a moment. They should not see the situation at hand, authority over Helga clearly lost. Having to wake the calmly resting woman made her hesitate. But it must be done, for either sake. Groggy from slumber, disgruntled at the prospect of waking, Helga only rolled over, burying deeper into the bed.

“No, you will not,” another shake of the shoulders had her more aware of her surroundings, eyes opening blearily, hard time blinking. Once they analysed their situation to such an extent as was possible in this state, she sat up, stretching hands above her head, bones popping. Rolling shoulders the same way their goahmbkhos did – Milo had seen one, compared them to their panthers, and sworn to never meet one again – predator at ease, comfortable in its territory.

Sleep addled her figure still, but there was no time to waste now, “They have arrived.”

Less than a second was all it took for her to stand, Kida could feel Helga's need to pace so achingly deep, it made her want to get up, join her. Eyes fixed upon the door, she spoke, “Let them in then. We have no time to waste.”

Calling out again, this time to let them enter, Kida stood, brushing down garment, ready to step into her role again. Chancing a last glance at Helga, the other woman tense, bound hands balled into fists, jaw twitching. Skin over throat bopping up and down, making Kida wish to trace along the promise of muscle underneath. Not giving the thought a second to settle, beating it back into the dark recess of her mind, she shook her head.

Following the command, both doors pulled open, blue light from outside illuminated the darkness within the chamber. She hadn’t realised how dark it was, night creeping upon them. In stepped Milo, followed by the one person who might be able to solve this nightmare. Her eyes focused on Kida, brows meeting hairline, mouth hanging open in wonder.

“Kida! Are you alright? What’s going on? The guards said it was urgent!”

Milo’s concern made warmth flood her heart, feeling cared for, making the ensuing conversation that had to be had even more painful. For now, she would reassure him. She felt better than she should.

“It is good to see you. I am fine, but I do have important matters to discuss. With both of you,” at that, gaze meeting that of the woman, Kida motioned for her to step closer.

Feeling the attention resting on her, she dropped to one knee, head bowed so deep it rested on her leg, she spoke, “It is an honour to meet you, Princess Kidagakash. Great be the princess!”

“Kida will suffice, there are much more pressing matters we must attend to than formality. Stand, please. I do not like conversing with one whose eyes I cannot see.”

Seeming uncertain, she got up, dusting down her simple grey robes, covered in powder, green and red. Two guards had been stationed at the door, meant to deter anyone from entering or leaving. She had not disclosed their true purpose: keeping Helga inside. As they stepped inside, light reflected on Helgas body, glimmering in the black of night. Sole source of illumination in the room, eyes fell on her.

Milo was the first to speak, “What is that?”

Stance breaking under scrutinization, Helga shifted. Realisation that the thing moved settling in, the guards fell into combat stance, spears raised, shields ready.

“Princess, an intruder! Get back!”

In a blink one guard crossed the distance, pulling her behind his massive frame, broad shoulders shielding her from perceived evil. The other vaulted through the room, spear ready to pierce. Helga’s end.

“Stop!” heart beating faster than feet could carry her, she ducked past, one hand outstretched in horror. Mind screaming, thoughts racing in all directions, scrambling to hold onto something, averting the crisis at hand.

Helga stood, hands raised barely above her chest, no more tense than before. On the contrary, where eyes had been like ponds before; deep, but harmless, they transformed into whirling pits of destruction; ready to pull any under who dare threaten her. Seeing the emotions, practised ease with which she carried herself, Helga was no simple solider provoked into battle, more a goahmbkhos poked by goat, Kida realised. A beast tied to the end of a flimsy rope.

“Do not harm her,” the request should have been directed at Helga instead, waves building higher. Muscles rippling with the effort it took her to stand still, something pulsing in Kida, stomach knotting together.

Eyes leaving the guard for the first time, scowling, Helga coked her head. Shaking it slightly, Kida signalled to back off. Scowl deepening, she stepped back, against the wall. Nowhere left to go. Both guards seemed confused by the development, the one near Helga hesitating before he lowered his spear.

Kida stepped between them, body covering Helga's.

“She is subdued. Stand down,” this time, both had been addressed.

“Princess, why would you keep a threat inside your chamber?”

“I will explain it all to you. Let me do something first,” turning partly around, Helga’s expression the definition of ‘irritation’. Kida subtly shook her head, imploring her to keep calm.

She moved towards the pillar in the corner, slipping the crystal around her neck into her hand. It sent out little sparks, much more reactive than usual. Tapping it against the pillar, a single light column shot out, into the ceiling. Lines circling it went up in blue light, winding along the pillar, spreading over the ceiling, down the other pillars. Bathed in blue, the atmosphere only tensed, as all where finally able to see who stood in front of them.

Shielding eyes against the sudden light, Helga missed shock grabbing hold of Milo, who audibly gasped, backing away.

“Helga? How is this possible?”

What an unfortunate reunion. She pitied him, this wasn’t going the way she had planned. Had not actually planned it at all, still, better ways to tell him than this must have been available.

“Hello there, Milo Tatch.”

Glaring at Helga, Kida made her way over to her friend, taking his hands, “I promise that she’s harmless. I will tell you all that happened.”

“I know. I trust you. But I don’t trust her.”

Before the discussion could continue, Threhuihnthoash spoke up, wringing hands nervously, “I do not mean to be rude, but I am uncertain why I am here. Maybe it would be best if I left.”

Turning towards her, Milos hands still in hers, Kida expected for her to look scared. It was not so, fascination had her brows up again, lips pursed, eyes raking over Helga who seemed not the least bit intimidated by the attention, even throwing a toothy grin her way.

“Threhuihnthoash, I sent for you specifically. I had hope that you would be able to help us with an important matter.”

“Us? Don’t tell me you are working with Helga!”

“Milo, please, let me explain myself.”

“Has she done anything to you? I swear if she so much as touched you, I will-“

“Yes, Milo, what will you do then?” mocking him was not something Kida would tolerate from Helga.

Head whipping around, words barely restrained, “Keep your mouth shut. I will handle the talking.”

Reprimanded, Helga clenched her jaw, head tipping forward.

“Kida, I am so confused.”

Attention finally back on her, Kida decided now was the moment to fill them in. Dismissing the guards, wanting the audience to be as small as possible. They recommended against it, talked down for the moment, but unwilling to leave their princess in the clutches of a threat such as Helga.

“You are close at hand, and I am not a helpless little thing. Go now, I will all on you again if the need arises,” one opened the right door, other glaring daggers at Helga, who did not seem to notice, “And please, do not mention what you saw in this room to anyone. Once we have the problem sorted, I will inform the people myself, but we cannot have rumours spreading about.”

“Yes, princess.”

“As you wish.”

Obeying, leaving them alone, Milo and Threhuihnthoash looked at her, expectations high.

Kida took a deep breath, gesturing towards Helga.

“Once I had finished up my business in the city for the day, I returned to the palace, intent on pursuing simpler matters,” retelling the events was hard, exhaustion weighing heavy on her shoulders. It had to be done. Keeping herself short, both followed her tail with rapped attention. Choosing to omit the details of what had happened transpired between Helga and herself on the bed, unclear what, how she should feel about it, why there was no anger when she thought of Helga. No way she could share Helga resting on her, so serene and calm. The transformation her arm had undergone got shocked expressions, Kida noticing the flinch going through Helga's body. Ending the tale, all eyes rested on her, speechless. Milo squeezed her shoulder, having dropped her hands some time ago.

“None of this seems possible. If I couldn’t see her right in front of me right now, I would have had a hard time believing you.”

Helga returned to her spot on the bed, spine straight, eyes fixed ahead, unmoving. Statue wasting away.

“I assume my role in all this is to communicate with the Heart? Princess, please, I am no dreamer, even if we had one here, the Heart doesn’t bend to our will. It will reveal only what it wishes to.”

“I know such a gift is rare, even more so in our times. But I had hoped your father might have taught you some of his practises. I am afraid there is no other way out.”

Lip pulled between teeth again, brows scrunched, fingers fidgeting, Threhuihnthoash sunk into thought.

The tale had exhausted her, sleep far away, the only thing she yearned for.

“What is your plan exactly, Kida?”

“There must have been a reason the Heart chose to bond with Helga. If Threhuihnthoash could find out why, we might be able to reverse their connection, the Heart staying pure and Helga returning to… normal.”

“And if the Heart doesn’t want that to happen?”

Not understanding, Kida cocked her head.

“As you said, the Heart chose her. Why we do not know. But it happened. And you explained that there seems to be rules in place. When Helga hurt you, the Heart punished her. Why would it go through so much trouble, just to relinquish its hold on her?”

“Are you saying that the Heart needs her?”

“It’s just a theory! But considering all that has happened, it doesn’t seem impossible. At least we know now why the machines have been acting up. The Heart overloads their innate powers, making them spin out of control.”

“How a matter that seemed so pressing earlier can become so unimportant is vexing to me. I only wish for the trouble to finally be over. Our people deserve peace.”

“And you do too, Kida. I mean it.”

Lull of the conversation had Kida’s attention drawn to the bed. Helga hadn’t moved since she sat down. Chest lifting the only sign of life. Hearing their conversation must have been hard. Thoughts drifting back to when she had confessed her reason for stealing the Heart, compassion thrummed through her veins.

“I will do it.”

Surprise colouring their faces, Milo and Kida turned towards Threhuihnthoash, who pulled back under the attention.

“This situation is unlike anything my father ever shared with me. I am not sure whether he would know what to do, only one way to go. Though I am no dreamer, they might not understand the situation either. He taught me many things; some must be of use.”

“Do it, then,” quiet until now, Helga stood at the foot of the bed, rope taut, expression grim, determined.

Not expecting her to take the initiative like that, Kida made her way over. Helga wasn’t paying her any attention, fixed completely on Threhuihnthoash. Standing before her, she made to touch her shoulder, thinking better of it, dropping the hand at her side instead.

“Are you sure? We don’t know what the Heart wants, if it’ll harm you to talk with it.”

“I don’t care,” steeled nerves met Kida’s rebuke, worrying her, then towards the woman, “I need you to talk to the Heart. It doesn’t matter how.”

“The process is not difficult. It will be up to the Heart however, whether it takes us up on our attempt.”

Sensing no way to discourage Helga (unsure why she cared), the way to keep this from steering in the wrong direction was to take charge again.

“What do you need to start the process?”

“Nothing. Only you,” pointing at Helga, who was restless at her side, working her jaw.

“How is this going to work? Is there a risk involved for us? Any danger we should know about?”

Kida’s concern had Helga huffing, who scowled in turn.

“I cannot give a satisfying answer to that question. My father always said dreaming is like walking through the world, but everything is underwater. You can see it all, nothing able to harm you. The Heart doesn’t talk the way we do, he explained it was different for most dreamers, some saw its will in shapes, colours, pictures. There was only one period, where talking to it yielded genuine hurt. Before the great catastrophe came, the Heart severed its connection to any dreamer residing in Atlantis still.

“My father was one of them. When it happened, it was like lighting struck him. His body burned; voice screamed so raw he never spoke again. The only risk involved lays with me.”

“And yet you would risk yourself like that?”

“It is an honour for me, to try and be the first to contact the Heart again. Aside from you, of course, princess.”

“I did not communicate with it in such a way, not as far as I can remember at least. But if you are sure, then I will let you proceed. Is there anything we can do to help, Threhuihnthoash?”

“No. And please, call me Thoash. If I put myself in your care, I want it to be on friendly terms.”

Nodding, Kida respected the decision. Trusting each of them with her life was not what she had expected to come out of this conversation.

Shaking out her arms, Thoash made her way towards Helga and Kida. Feeling the tension radiating off Helga, without thinking, she grabbed her hand, applying gentle pressure, an attempt at grounding both. Squeezing back, Helga rolled her neck. Looking up at her, Thoash motioned towards the bed. Heart beating faster, holding onto Helga’s hand, letting go only once she sat down. Spine straight as a spire, face carved with such seriousness as she hadn’t seen before.

“I will touch your head. Then, I will try to talk to the Heart. I need you to remain sitting and taking deep breaths, okay? If we are lucky, then the connection will be established and done within a few seconds.”

“And if not?” Kida couldn’t help but interject.

Sparing a quick glance, Thoash pressed her lips together, barely shaking her head. Kida didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand. But she had to let her proceed. There was no other way.

Helga pulled her shoulders up, breath leaving her, blue eyes locking onto Kida’s, round with worry. Kida looked back, feeling compassion with each beat of her heart. This couldn't be easy for her, she thought. She wanted to reassure her in some way, take a piece of the pressure, or share in her fears, but she did not know how. The moment was broken when Thoash moved between them, holding her hands up, covering Helga's face. Silence took over the room, not even a breeze wandering through. Nothing happening, Helga staring up at Thoash who was piercing the wall with her intense gaze, beads of sweat forming at the temple. Immensly concentrated, Kida could see her muscles lock, tremors forming in her legs, slowly moving up. Seconds ticked by, Milo shuffling closer, clearing his throat.

No warning came as columns of light erupted from Helgas eyes, gentle blue turning dark, mouth pulled open in a silent scream. Wiping through the air, light made its way past Thoash, snapping around her, latching on, burying under skin, red mixed with blue. Tattoos seemed to strain against skin, glowing as intense as Helga herself. The tugging sensation against her breastbone had Kida looking down, seeing the crystal usually nestled there pulling on its thread, towards the storm. Pressure increasing, Kida cast it from her throat, not ready to risk her life by keeping it.

Air tasting of metal and sulphur, each crack of energy wailing against the wall hurting her ears, no escape from what Helga had unleashed. Kida sought refuge behind the divider, pressing against the wood, feeling all too flimsy now, hoping Milo had gotten to safety.

Energy amassing, more volatile by the minute, Kida risked a glance, pulled towards the middle of the room. Swirling, intertwining matter made it hard to see, obstructing the eye of the storm.

“Helga!”

Swallowed up, sound not reaching far, Kida tried again, again. Each time with the same result. Chest trembling, tears forming in her eyes, panic took over. Stray energy hit her across the face, pulling at the skin, tattoo searing hot. Crying out, Kida fell back, hand reaching for the wound. Blood poured forth, sticky against clammy skin. Pain welling up, building just like the storm.

Then, a sudden glimpse into the eye of it, Kida barely able to make out two bodies, interlocked, not able to tell where one began, the other ended. Blood covered both, streaming over them, clothes soaked in it, her brain unable to process the imagery.

In a big wave, energy gathered, before coming down again, clashing against the walls, washing over Kida, drowning out the world, accompanied by a thounderous boom. Then, nothing. Stray energy surging up at times, snapping through the air, but dissipating fast.

Carefully getting up, limps unsteady, hands trembling, tears mixing with blood, Kida made to stand, eyes pulled to the bed. Not ready for what awaited her, the view of two bodies tangled together, unmoving, fumes rising making her cry out. Sound ricocheting off the walls, Kida stumbled towards them, heavy sobs tearing from her chest.

“No!”

Chapter Text

Dreaming was a very intimate experience. Communication with the Heart the highest honour one could receive, a feat seldomly rivalled. It was for that reason dreamers were revered, celebrated in nearly the same way as the royal family. Of the process itself few knew more than what was whispered behind closed doors or passed between drinks.

The truth, however, was more complicated as it often tended to be. Dreamers seldom dreamt alone. That was the first thing her father had taught Thoash. Dreamers would find themselves in other people’s dreams, only through these the Heart talked to them.

Dreaming differed, it was the second thing her father had taught her. There were rarely two experiences resembling each other, unique every time. The part a dreamer played changed too. At times a silent spectator, or an active participant. He commonly described his perception of it as walking underwater; he was the water itself, the sand, fish, algae, or none of them at all, a spectator without role. It was this Thoash had prepared herself for.

A connection. Helga and her mind merging, becoming one, enabling her to understand why the Heart had taken her into servitude. Touching Helga's forehead, hands covering cool skin, she had tried to pry into her mind, establish dialogue. Helga hadn’t budged at first, mind remaining tightly shut. Despite being the one who had asked for her to continue with their plan, Helga did not cooperate now. Until, with a sudden pop, the mind sprang open, pulling her in. Neither prepared for it, Thoash had gasped, before she lost sight of her body, haze surrounding her, vaguely hearing a pained wheeze leaving Helga.

Like the night sky, blue converged, ensnaring her. For a moment, everything was blissfully silent, weightlessness making her fly, then, she felt herself being pulled down, cold touches caressing her brain.

Blinking once, she found herself in a new body, tight in places, too wide in others, a shoe fitting all wrong. She wasn’t alone any more. A tight ball of anxiety beat in unison with this heart, distinctively alien to her. Each pulse sent a part of it up this throat, scratching the back, pressing on the tongue.

Another mind made itself known, stirring in the recess of the body. Energy akin to that of a nervous dog circling her thoughts, pushing past, sniffing around, flinching back each time its counterpart moved. Thoash had never dreamt like this before. It was hard, joining with another person so deeply they melted together, becoming one. Had only done it once before, with a dear friend. It had been wonderful then, experiencing another person in their entirety, no thoughts, feelings, memories hidden. Every part laid bare. It wasn’t like that now.

Helga and her were one, but not. She could feel her rummage through her thoughts, inspecting, searching, or judging, uneasy prick of fear drilling into the spine. They inhabited this body both, an amalgamation of them, features mixed together. The limbs prickling, wrongness in the bones. Thoash tried reorienting herself, the sudden investigation of Helga throwing her off, creeping dread smothering her feelings, not used to being seized up like this. As Helga had done, she made to move through their mixed mind, making out the core of Helga's. Deep, resounding growling stopped her, darkness rising around them. No way to speak with her mouth, thoughts the only way to communicate, blackness making it harder for her to get her message across, panic spread.

What is happening?

Dissonant, not entirely her voice, not Helga's either, strange to her ears. The answer echoed through the body.

Do not.

Confusion took hold of her, not understanding what the words were supposed to convey.

What do you mean?

Don’t go there. I can’t let you see.

Helga, Helga, Helga.

Name filling mind and body, blackness sizzled. Another flinch, form retreating, other mind crying out, not in pain, but… fear, maybe, or agitation, ball of anxiety expanding, expanding, each heartbeat pushing it further, chest contracting painfully.

I need to know. I need to see the Heart. Please.

Desperation mixed on the tongue, hers and Helga's: one born of inquisitiveness, the other survival.

No no no nononono

This wasn’t how she imagined the dream would go, let the concern envelop them. She didn’t know her, but Helga had seemed so strong before, unaffected by her condition, focused. She wasn’t like that now, a dog with its tail tucked between the legs, teeth bared, snapping. The picture came to her unbidden, other mind perceiving it as well, growling deeper, unhappy. But she needed to continue, find where the Heart rested, talk to it. Helga would have to let her proceed.

DON’T.

Other mind flickering red, taller, presence overpowering. Thoash’s mind could do nothing but bow down in submission, shivers running up the body.

We must do this. I need to talk to the Heart. You know that.

Why fight her now? Had it not been Helga's certainty, her iron will that lead them here? Each thought passed through the red form, leaving behind traces of sprinkled gold.

Please.

Surprise radiated off her in waves, touching Helga’s mind. Not what she had expected. Helga continued, desperation taking a pleading turn, all rage forgotten, fire snuffed out, leaving behind a whining creature, nursing its wounds.

I can’t let you see me. Don’t make me stop you.

Each second passed more precious than the last, Helga's terror growing, taking over her mind as well.

You must let me in. It’s the only way to save you.

Body twitching, balling its fists, muscles tensing, Helga's mind started taking over, overriding their mutual control, pushing Thoash away. An instinct, not something Helga consciously did, felt her sanity slip like sand through fingers. Had to do something, before their connection severed, or Helga took over completely.

Impenetrable darkness cut off all access to her thoughts, only the red form of her mind remaining; filling the space, absorbing all that wasn’t Helga. Pushing on and on, flickering, burning, brightness blinding Thoash. She had to calm her, stop this disastrous rampage. Each desperate move made Helga wilder, flooded by uncontrolled emotions, pulling her under. So much pain, doubt, hurt. Her mind didn’t seem to be her own, didn’t feel like a mind at all. A patchwork blanket, none of the sewing done, loose pieces of fabric overlaying but not holding, masquerading as a blanket, falling apart at the slightest touch, unable to withstand any pressure. Nothing holding her together, mind leaking thoughts Thoash could barely decipher, each one worse than the one before. Threads snapping, unravelling before her eyes, Helga's mind striking out in more destructive ways, not caring what got caught in her attempts at getting her out. Mind moving about without destination, revolving around itself, sending out bursts of red light that stung anytime they hit Thoash.

Flickering light caught her attention, Helga not fast enough to hide it beyond her wall. Or uncaring, not deeming it important enough to protect. Thoash threw herself at the speck of something other than misery, examining the memory. Before her mind could wrap around it, protect it from outside destruction, it went up in a red flame, engulfing her.

Her left arm was trying to kill her, plunge the chamber into chaos. Darkness pouring out in waves, cracks bright in blood-red. Something moving it up, up, then she felt softness in her grip. Whatever it was did not flinch away from her death spell. Blinking blood from her eyes, realizing what – who – it was. Kida held her arm in her hands, pressed it around her throat. Not fear contorting her features, but fire; burning in her eyes, in the way she gritted her teeth. The voice calmed down. Raging beast laid to rest, stalking around her mind, but settling, resting.

Fear washed over her, leaving the heart of the body beating rapidly, each intake of breath ash on the tongue. Memory unfurled; she didn’t understand what she had seen. But there was warmth connected to it; gentleness, trust, none of the dark emotions currently pulling at her mind. This was her chance to get Helga back.

The other mind doubled in size, taking up all the room the brain could offer, not satisfied, seeking to expand further. She would kill them both if Thoash let her continue. Helga's mind flickered, each movement unpredictable. Though deep darkness covered most of the brain, her mind was vulnerable now, pulled in each direction. Shrinking down, Thoash had to move quickly, not ready to die because the other woman couldn’t keep her emotions in check. Dodging the whips of red energy, getting closer and closer. Like thunder, hit her, shaking her to the bones. Body pulled into itself, pain pulsing through limbs. This couldn’t be enjoyable to Helga, constant, aching agony, yet she only made it worse.

Thoash lunged forward, pushing past all that stood in her way. Swirling hurt, each layer a wound oozing memories like puss and blood, broken ideals, shattered hopes gathered in a pile at the bottom. Helga's mind did not appreciate the intrusion, striking out, uncaring for either of them. Thoash pushed on, energy draining quickly. She should go deeper, make sure the other mind had no way to escape her plan, but then she would not make it, already feeling weary beyond belief. She took hold of the memory, concentrating on it, screamed. Emotions poured forth like a waterfall, drowning Helga's raging wildfire of hate, helplessness, hunger.

Helga's answering howl was more animalistic in nature than human, yet she did not attack, flailing mind ceasing its assault, quivering, contracting. Darkness behind her receded. Overwhelmed, Thoash witnessed Helga's mind spasming, felt the body sob. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Helga's mind shifted, unprotected. An infection; irritated, tender to any ministration. Thoash took a second to collect herself, then she reached out, gently letting her most fond memories flow over, circling the other mind. Helga did not protest, barely reacted beyond a flinch. Giving her one more chance to refuse, Thoash finally reached out.

The body jerked up, head thrown back, mouth pulled open, air sucked in. Warmth spread in the chest, loosening the ball of anxiety.

Helga's mind retreated a bit, red coiling together tightly, rounding her, before mingling again. Thoash noticed she kept back everything that was supposed to be shared in a dream, all her being, behind a waning wall of self-restrain.

How did you get that memory?

You had it with you, I saw it as my chance to help us both.

Their body ground its teeth, jaw locked tight, doubt swirling around Thoash, then, it exhaled again, letting out a sigh.

It wasn’t yours to see… But thank you. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t know what is happening to me. I’m starting to lose myself.

I will save us. But I have never dreamt like this before; something is wrong with us. Our connection.

It’s the Heart.

Ensuing silence sat in the bones of the body, all of Helga's form unmoving, unresponsive. This was not going the way she had intended, not expecting it to be so difficult, a fight for life and death.

How?

It takes me over. I didn’t know how before, but it always starts the same. I’m pushed to the side, insignificant, and regain control only once it’s done.

Voice all encompassing, the admission had Thoash retreat in her own mind, unsure how to compute this information. Helga was uncomfortable, feelings mixing with her own confusion, inability to understand. Their minds circled each other, unsure how to make contact, fearing what had happened before.

Helga's voice was small compared to her roar before, easily overheard.

Be (kind, gentle, quick, careful, quiet, soft, mindful)

Many images of the same things circled her, finding their way inside her mind, Helga not ready to share, but doing so, disregarding her pride. Thoash appreciated her courage, recognising the difficulty of such an act. How scared she must be of another looking through her mind, witnessing things not meant for other eyes.

Yes. You have my word.

With a twist, Helga's mind rose up, before crashing down upon Thoash, not burying this time, but sweeping through, anchoring. Their awarenesses touched, flowing into each other, becoming one. Exhilarating.

Her red core still irritated and hurt, lay before her. She took care to gently surround it, touch purposeful and soft. Thoash felt at frayed edges, poorly pieced together, yet beautiful in their resilience. Wished it would never end.

One mind at last, the stream of consciousness flowed around – through – them. Impressions of times long passed; the sea, a gun, twisted forest paths, laughing faces, taste of beer. Weightlessness around made their body fly.

A cold touch caressed their back, wandering up the head. Soothing before, the intent changed, seizing their neck. Ice spread, numbing their body. Flailing, trying to break free. Another voice sounded then, not in their mind, echoing around them, piercing through their head.

NOW YOU WILL SEE

Their arms tried to grab at it, nothing there. They struggled on, unwilling to give up, but the other thing was stronger, much stronger, its grip squeezing the life out of them.

SEE WHAT I SEE

No words to describe the sensation their body felt, jerking back, forth, twisting, a puppet toyed with by an uncaring – ignorant or unknowing – puppeteer. Air hot around them, view disorienting. Floating, body in a horizontal position, looking down, up at the same time, ground and ceiling in view.

A giant hot air balloon took to the air below them, alien and familiar at once. The position lasted for only a moment, before they found themselves in a new body, seeing out of different eyes. Searing shock went through them, feeling like they had seen – lived – this moment once before, not willing to relive it again, begging the thing that had talked to them to let them leave, stop this, get out. But there was no answer. Whatever had transported them to this moment must have wanted them to see this. They had to stay, keep going. Everything around had been silent, ears not picking up a sound, when a snap rang out, pulling them back to the past.

*

Hot hot hot. Air vibrated with energy, blue from the container swishing up and down in arcs, creating light shows that might have been beautiful if not for their origin; their implications. Nothing Helga should contemplate now, intent on getting the evac started, finally leaving this hellhole behind.

They would be free at last, no more Atlantis. It cost them much, the crew aboard the Ulysses, half their team siding with the Atlanteans. Now, any obstacles had been eliminated, victory close at hand.

“Start the damn thing already,” Rourke’s booming voice sound out, command spurring the remaining crew members on.

Helga fastened the container housing Kida with several of them. A deep pit had opened back at the palace, gnawing at her heart, closing her throat. Taking the princess as payment was the necessary evil they had to fulfil to get a reward for this mission. Condemning the kingdom to crippling decay had not been part of their plan. They had been dying before, civilisation crumbling slowly, growth stunted, culture forgotten, but now, there was no more hope left for them. She had tried talking to Rourke about it. He had brushed her off, fixed on the reward that would greet them once they got back, made it clear there was no turning back now. She knew that of course.

She had betrayed the people that welcomed them, seen a way to revitalise their lives through them. There was simply no way to make up for it, only way out to push on; end this mission, get what she was promised.

“Everybody aboard!”

Balloon ready for take-off, Helga took one last look at the metal contraption, trying to peer inside. Icy blue made it impossible, barring anyone from seeing inside. Deep in the recess of her mind, Helga hoped Kida was okay. There was no telling what would happen to her once they broke the surface, reached another city. The world would not be kind to her.

Stepping onto the evac she tried leaving all worries behind, concentrating on what lay ahead. First, they had to get out of the volcano. Then, she would get paid, finally able to buy her brothers out of their military service, if it wasn’t too late already. It wouldn’t be, she reassured herself. They were waiting for – counting on – her. She would not disappoint them, not this time. Everything rode on this mission, her ability to succeed where others had failed.

Rourke greeted her with a wide grin, hat slightly askew, jacket opened past what was considered acceptable by military standards. Neither cared. He clapped her on the shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

“We did it, Helga. We accomplished the unthinkable. You and me, we conquered an entire civilization, seized it by the head, took its heart, and now we will be hailed as the explorers of the century!”

Cocking her head, Helga threw him a tight-lipped smile, “We certainly did. It cost us much.”

“What are you talking about? This-“ gesturing around them, then pointing down where Kida was trapped” -Is more than we could have ever hoped for. Once we sell her to the highest bidder, we will be swimming in money.”

Helga rolled her shoulders, one strap of her top falling. Unease made the pit in her stomach grow.

“Let’s get out of here. We shouldn’t stay longer than necessary.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Helga. This is everything we have worked for the past years. Our hard work paid off, and you played a significant part in that.”

She wished he would stop repeating the sentiment. There was nothing to be proud of. She had to wrestle with herself to keep the self-loathing at bay. He didn’t need to know about that, it wouldn’t do their relationship any good. Her less than enthusiastic attitude caught his eye, however. Unusual though it was for Rourke to comment on her behaviour (having moved on from said habit a long time ago, both had been much younger, Helga still a stubborn youth intent on being a menace) he did address it now.

“What has you so down? You deserve to celebrate this victory as much as everyone else.”

She couldn’t voice her true thoughts. They were monsters for destroying remnants of a society begging to be rebuilt. Every second she spent as a mercenary killed her inside, tearing at her heart, forcing pieces down her throat, choking her on red, hot guilt. No, he wouldn’t understand. Rourke was a man of his conviction, first and foremost. Had been for as long as she had known him. It was something she had envied, now it made her want to rip her hair out, scream how he didn’t understand. Biting her tongue instead, swallowing the iron taste, red dripping on her lips as she answered, “I cannot stand this place. It makes me uneasy.”

“As soon as we are back, we will choose where to go and no one will have the power to stop us. We will experience all the luxuries the world has to offer and withheld from us. At long last, they will know our worth.”

It made her dizzy, his tone. Days before she would have shared in it. Now? Ichor threatened to shoot up her oesophagus.

“Take your station, we are leaving. We’ll talk again later.”

Turning his back, she breathed a sigh of relief, dropping her guard for only a second, before letting her well-worn mask fall in place again. Barking orders at the surrounding soldiers, she strode along the gyro evac. Reality settled in. Truly, they had won.

*

Hot hot hot. Adrenaline burned through her body, gun in hand, sweat sizzling as it dropped on iron. Reloading, taking aim, firing at stone contraptions zipping past the balloon. The Atlanteans had figured out a way to make the things fly, fighting to free their princess now. Too many of them flew past, shooting rays of blue light at them, damaging the evac.

On the ground, their soldiers took seat in planes, prepared for situations like this. Joining them in the air, fighting whichever one came closest. One such plane exploded next to Helga, explosion throwing her back. Knocked against the railing, sharp pain flared up. She shook it off, ignoring the intense heat around her, took aim again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They had been surprised, scrambling to catch up with the Atlanteans they outnumbered, but held a technological advantage. Soldiers had been instructed to push them back, ensuring the evac would get away. The chance was getting slimmer and slimmer, each hit slowing them.

Rourke appeared next to her, wringing his hands, plumes of smoke rising from them. He looked down, huffing, giving her a look.

“Seems like someone’s working overtime,” Helga followed his pointed finger, baring her teeth at the display below.

Sweet and Ramirez hanging onto the box holding Kida, cutting through the chains securing it with a saw. Utterly stupid.

“Buffoons,” she muttered, stalking forward.

There was no time to think of an alternative, only way they would leave this place alive was up. No one would stop her now. Clicking open the metal that held one of the few bombs that were kept on the evac, pushing against it with her body, she managed to dislodge it, the thing dropping, destroying one of the Atlantean planes. Sweet and Ramirez managed to get out before the blast caught up with them. Helga ground her teeth, unhappy. This was getting out of control. They weren’t supposed to get hurt.

Not willing to let the battle pass her by, pulling out her pistol again, Helga continued shooting at her targets. None of her hits fazed them, flight unhindered. Last bullet spent, she went to reload, blue blasts targeting her as she looked down. Pressing her back against the cover of the evac, she evaded them, but too late. One hit her, burning through the right side of her pants, singing flesh below. Head knocking against the cover, choking back a scream, she snapped her jaw shut, teeth cracking together. It hurt, smell making her nauseous; like meat burnt to a crisp over a campfire. The image conjured in her mind made her dry heave. Everything around her moved, eyes having a hard time adjusting. Blurry at the edges, Rourke stepped toward her, clapping his hands on her shoulders, impact rattling through her body, his stare telling her to get a grip.

“Got a problem,” voice controlled as ever, underlying tension only betrayed by the years they had spent together. Helga knew the tone of a panicked man. She didn’t like it; they tended to get reckless.

Brushing one arm over her forehead, coming away covered with sweat and dust, she blinked at him.

“We’re too heavy.”

The balloon had come to a standstill, not rising, neither sinking.

“We’re losing altitude. Loosen the load.”

Shaking herself back to reality, Helga sprinted towards the most outer railing, loosening the weights attached to it. Leg throbbing, she pushed the pain to the back of her mind. Before they started falling, she had made her way to the next one, cutting it loose. Another two had to be lost before the evac ascended again. They would make it out, just like he had promised.

Triumphant, running a hand through her hair, she made to turn “That’s it! Unless someone wants to jump.”

Not having heard his footsteps among the battle throes, Helga flinched as arms wrapped around her, pulling her up as if she weighed nothing.

“Ladies first!” sarcasm strong, arms even stronger, Rourke threw her from the aircraft.

Not registering his words until she was free-falling only a split second saved her from careening to her death, hands catching on metal. Using the momentum, pulling together all she had ever learned, she tensed her body, switched hands, then put all her power into catapulting herself up again.

How dare he.

*

Hot hot hot. Everything shimmered in hazy red; memories jumbled, tainted by rage in its purest form. Betrayal burned through her body, allowing her to pull herself up in a flip, catching Rourke right in the jaw.

“You said we were in this together!”

he promised

Another hit, injured ankle caught in his grip, breaking under pressure, pain such a small thing in comparison to white, hot anger, all around her. How dare he betray her! They were partners, comrades in arms. Friends. He smirked.

“Next time, get it in writing.”

Punctuating his words by throwing her off the evac, eyes never leaving hers, she screamed for him – at him – for anyone to notice her.

“Nothing personal!”

Eyes glinting like jewels, licking his lips in greed. A monster.

nothing personal

Body hit stone, splitting open. Spilling its contents on the ground, brain, blood, bone. Shattered beyond compare, heart coming to a stop.

i don’t want to die

Hand rising, crosshair meeting the balloon head on, she would not allow for it to get away. If she was left, no one would get to leave either. Firing one last bullet, knowing it would hit. Then, darkness. Above her, the balloon careened down, flaming ball of shrieking terror, bathing the volcano in red, all red as the impact send shockwaves out.

Lava sprang forth, shooting out between cracks in the walls, through the ground, pulling stone under, sweeping forth, consuming all in its way.

*

All is quiet. All is noise. All is one and one is the Heart.

Creeping in its own subconscious bound to the princess in its grasp. Its own will asserted through her body. God in Human.

Destruction marks the land. Not of its own creation, caused by the hands of another. Greedy outsiders punished and Atlanteans rising to take on their legacy again, humble in their approach. They know loss and they fear it. Good.

Now, nothing stands in the way of their reconciliation.

No, that is not true. It can feel it, minds scuttling like ants. Insignificant if not for the fact that they mean to bring harm. They remain hidden yet, outsiders again. Brushing past their conscious, another thing captures its attention.

A small mind, far away. Not a mind in its own right; a flesh husk. Heart unbeating, mind unmoving, body in pieces. Gliding over, the Heart moves on. Expects to. Ends up stopping over it instead.

Unusual, finding an outsider that catches its eye. There is knowledge there that this is not the end. Atlantis is not yet safe. This body is dead, but it will be of use again. Yes, it will do nicely.

Bowing down, pushing into flesh. Deeper, past meat, muscle, sinew, then bone. Finally, the centre of the being is revealed.

A soul. Waning, weak. But there, nonetheless. Reaching out, it caresses first. It is a confused little thing, so full of pain and misery. It wants to leave, but the Heart cannot allow for that to happen. The hold grows firmer, restricting.

Mine now.

Pulling blue light from above, using its power to bind it to the body, breathing life into it.

You will not die yet. You must protect first. Get up now, your work has just begun.

*

Air prickling with deadly energy, Kida expected another explosion to happen at any moment, felt the power swirling around her.

Carefully getting up, limbs unsteady, hands trembling, tears mixing with blood, Kida made to stand. Her eyes went to the bed, seeking out Helga and Thoash, needing for them to be okay. Not ready for the view awaiting her, knees buckling, threatening to give out under her, she saw them. Their two bodies lay tangled together, unmoving, fumes rising from them. She cried out, sound ricocheting off the walls. Stumbled towards them, heavy sobs tearing from her chest.

“No!”

She begged for them to get up again, open their eyes. Wished to hear Helga’s snark, see Thoash’s eyes crinkle in that endearing way. None of it happened.

Throwing herself on her knees, she reached out, pulling at them. Thoash’s flesh was burned, searing to the touch, Kida had to drop her arm as soon as she caught hold of it, unable to stand the temperature. Helga's was similarly hot, iron ready to be forged, making her pull her hands back, wincing.

Doors flying open, guards sprinted inside, spears ready. They looked around, searching for a threat, before locking onto the princess, then the bodies on the ground. Rushing to her, one inspected their bodies, the other pulled her back. Shocked to the bone, Kida did not budge, struggling against his hold, crying out for the two women.

“Please, I need to make sure they are alive! Let me go-“ with each word she grew more frantic, the possibility of them being dead unfathomable“ -They need help right now. Unhand me!”

The guard next to Thoash looked up then, surprise colouring his face. He leaned forward, pressing his head against her, not deterred by her hot skin. Kida struggled on, panic–stricken, her captor not loosening his hold. All she heard was the rush of blood in her ears. How could everything go so wrong?

Something tapped against her shoulder. Head snapping up, the guard looked at her. His lips moved; she wasn’t aware he had been talking. His words must have been important as he repeated himself. Trying to calm her racing heart, Kida ceased her fight, muscles twitching, mind too fast for her to play catch up.

“She’s breathing.”

Finally understanding, Kida slumped back, relieved. The guard at her back caught her weight, shifted against her, holding her up as adrenaline relinquished its hold.

“We need to get them help right now, or I fear they may not make it.”

Still caught up in her own worry, Kida had a hard time solidifying a single thought, feeling like a snail left to chase a fish. Impossible, laughable. She was a child again.

“Princess? You are hurt as well.”

Kida moved one hand up to her cheek where she knew her tattoo sat, proudly displayed. Sluggishly bringing her hand back to inspect it, blood greeted her. It wasn’t much, smell less intense than she expected. The sight gave her pause, mind coming to a stop. When had she got hurt? The thought wound itself in a circle, leading her back to Thoash and Helga, laying before her feet. Though hurt, they were both alive still, but who knew for how long if they didn’t get treated immediately. Someone had to take them to the medicine wing.

“Take them to the healers. I’m fine, this is nothing.”

“What about him?”

Not understanding who he was talking about, Kida followed the guards look to the far corner of the room. Rising from the floor with a groan was Milo, holding a hand to his side, glasses lost.

“Milo!”

Surprise and joy swept her off her feet. Scrambling to get up, she made to run towards him, guard finally letting go. Before he had time to right himself and register that she was coming in his direction, she had thrown herself at him. Her weight, his unpreparedness had them fall back to the ground, Milo letting out a quiet groan as he went down. Kida pulled him close, arms tight. It took him no time at all to reciprocate the action, own arms coming up to tighten around her back.

“What– What was that? Did you see that explosion?”

Kida let out a quiet sob, burying her face deeper in his neck, mumbling something he didn’t catch. Her shoulders shook with the effort it took for her to not fall apart right now, wishing for nothing but the chance to catch a break, finally unpack all that had happened on this damned day.

“Are you alright?” Milo chose to ask instead of questioning her further.

Head snapping up, Kida glared at him, “Am I? You are the one who has been hurt.”

As he went to shake his head, a cough wormed its way up his throat, impact straining something in his chest. At the wheezing sounds he let out Kida took his head between her hands, inspecting him closer. Cheeks dusted in pink; the closeness flustered him.

“I think I’m okay, though something feels off in my chest. Might need to have someone have a look at it.”

Immediately, Kida scrambled off him, apologising profusely. Milo waved her off with one hand, raising the other in a half shrug.

“You didn’t know, it’s fine.”

“We are taking you to a healer right now.”

Kida punctuated her sentence by getting up, extending one hand towards her friend while her gaze went to the guards. They had started detangling the bodies, carefully separating limb from limb. Their faces looked sunken in, grave with grief. At the expressions, concern flared up in her stomach, making her next heartbeats feel hollow.

“We are taking all of them to the medicine wing right now.”

They avoided her eyes, looking instead onto the pile at their feet. One cleared his throat, coughed into his hand, realised he had smeared blood along his face and went to frantically wipe it away. The other turned around, proud shoulders heaving with every breath, “It may be too late for that. I do not think this one has made it.”

Eyes flickering down, Kida locked onto Helga's unmoving form. A mix of emotions she was both unused to, and deeply uncomfortable with swelled inside her.

“What?”

“She isn’t breathing. It might be because she is made of stone, but I think she has left us.”

Pulling Milo along, Kida stepped towards them, each move slower than the last. No. No no no nonono. It simply couldn’t be. Dropping to her knees next to Helga's head, she gently reached out, detangling it from the hold Thoash’s limp hands had had on it. The stone itself had cooled significantly since Kida had touched her mere minutes ago. Pulling it atop her lab, she took great care to smooth her hair away from her face, taking it in.

Blood poured forth from every opening, now dried under her eyes, nose, mouth, even her ears. Her eyes were closed tight, the arcs of light that had originated from her before dissipated by now, only an eerie glow to her skin remaining. The guard had been right, her chest did not rise with intakes of breath, sitting still instead, mocking Kida. She had imagined plunging her dagger into it before, see it still under her hands. Wished to take the fantasy back now, as if it was at fault for what had happened.

“Take them to the healers.”

Words nothing more than a whisper, each occupant in the room had to strain to understand her.

“Kida, we can’t leave you here.”

“You won’t. I’ll follow soon enough; I just need a second. Grant me that.”

“If… If you are sure.”

With a nod, Kida sent them off. One guard bent down to pick up Thoash, limp body obedient. The other put an arm around Milo, taking on most of his weight as they slowly made their way out of the chamber. At the door, the one carrying Milo turned.

“We will send more guards to the room, Gkhewtewtekh too. They should be here shortly. Until then, please, be safe, princess.”

Not able to muster more than a hum, Kida kept her eyes trained on Helga. Retreating footsteps told her she was finally alone. Body hunched over, she let tears flow. Sobs clawed their way up.

Why she was crying she did not know. The last three days she had spent in mourning; grieving the fantasy of a loving father, the reality of an apathetic one. Her role as queen had hung above her heard like a sword, ready to come down, separate head from body. She felt that way now, headless. An enemy who had willingly participated in the genocide of her people collapsed at her feet and instead of planting a dagger in her heart, she had held her arm against her throat, not even a little bit afraid she might split her in half. Had even welcomed her after, laid in the same bed, talking about their lives. Kida was well and truly at a loss. She should have followed her friend, taken care of Milo and Thoash – who had willingly given up her own safety to help Helga – and not wallow in her own pity on the ground cradling the head of a woman she could no longer pretend to hate.

How cruel life truly was.

“Please, come back to me.”

Another sob racked her body, shoulders shaking under pressure.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. Why did you leave me with this? You couldn’t just die; you had to pull me down with you.”

Bitterness came second only to sorrow, weak even to her ears; winding around her heart, squeezing.

“Curse you! I mean it.”

Each word less tangible than the last, lip quivering, she went to stand but thought better of it as the head on her lap moved, “Get up. You owe me that much.”

Helga did not. Kida realised it had been her jostling that had made it seem so. Cursing herself instead, she caressed the side of her sweat and blood slicked face, “You can’t be gone. Wake up.”

A soft breeze passed them by, carrying the scent of salt and rock. Taking a deep breath, Kida tried to compose herself. It wouldn’t do if the guards arrived and saw her in such a desolate state. Taking the moment of quiet to take in her surroundings, Kida registered the disarray her chamber was in. The divider she had hidden behind lay toppled over, wardrobe scorched with burn marks. The desk on the far side of the room had been turned over, paintings scattered, some burned to a crisp. Blankets and cushions were flung everywhere, most burned as well. At the centre of it all Helga, who was dying in a puddle of her own blood.

As if thinking of her had prompted the action, a twitch shot through Helga’s body. Small at first, another followed. Kida felt it in the way her head tensed, spine lifting, hips turning. Her hands followed, fingers grasping, then curling inwards, digging into the palm of her hands. A crease appeared between her brows, lips pulled back; revealing sharp, bloody teeth underneath. Helga’s eyes flew open wide. Not the blue she was used to, but a vivid, unnerving red colouring the irises. Then, a roar broke free from her chest.

Without so much as a second to process what was happening before her, Helga’s body snapped up, onto her hands and knees. With a deep growl emanating from her chest that she could feel reverberate through her bones, she turned, head hung low, peering between wild strands of hair. Kida flinched back, the crazed stare in those red eyes sending shivers down her spine.

“Helga?”

The woman did not answer. The growl deepened as she stalked forwards, movements lurching. Nostrils flared, she took in the princess, prowling close. Kida wished to dodge the advance, uncomfortable at being regarded in such a way. Each move seemed to pain her, brows furrowed tightly, eyes pulled into slits. Lacking was how she would describe Helga’s demeanour, it burned with unrestrained wildness, yet everything that made her her was absent. The controlled, composed woman was there no more. It scared her.

Blood dripped from the sneering mouth, Helga not seeming to mind it one bit. A goahmbkhos. That was the only comparison Kida could make, before Helga knelt before her, licking at the blood covering her face, red spit dripping on her tunic. Moving closer, Helga’s head nudged against hers, nose pressing against the skin of her cheek. Wanting to pull back, Kida suppressed the instinct, unsure how Helga would react to sudden movement. Whatever state she was in physically did not hold a candle to what must be going on inside her mind.

With each intake of breath, Helga seemed to calm more, growl in her chest reduced to a mere grumble instead. Pulling back, those red eyes roamed over Kida’s form, taking her in. She felt like prey, simple as that. And she did not like it.

“Helga, what happened? Are you in there,” as she asked this, she extended a hand as well, hoping the contact would sooth her.

But her actions did not have the desired effect, wild eyes flickering between the hand and her eyes. Back so intense it shook her bones, Helga’s growl was the only warning, before the woman snapped forward, teeth ready to pierce flesh. Kida dodged to the side at the last moment, cradling the unharmed hand at her chest. A howl broke out beside her, Helga having thrown back her head. Kida did not get a chance to look at it, the other woman so frantic and fast in her movements each one appeared as nothing more than a blur. Still scared of all that was happening, Kida chose to try again, whispering Helga’s name.

But the woman did not react, at least not to her. Like an animal she jumped back, head snapping around. What had turned Helga into this thing? Determined to get to the bottom of this sudden animalistic switch, Kida made to approach the woman. Helga roared at her, teeth glinting in the sparse light. Another shudder ran down her spine, air burning with tension. An animal, backed into a corner. It must have been how she was feeling, but Kida did not know how to resolve this situation, a fish out of water.

For a moment her head ceased its rapid movement. Taking her chance, Kida stepped forward, extending her hand. Helga did not spare it a second glance, as something beyond Kida caught her attention. Her entire body rippled; muscles tensed to the brink. No chance to react, Kida was nearly knocked to the ground as she propelled herself forward, all limbs extended in a jump, landing with a dull thud beyond Kida who could only turn around as she watched the woman-reduced-to-animal vault towards the window at the far side of the room.

Confused, Kida could only watch on, as she reached the window, dug her fingers into the stone and pulled herself up. Understanding flooded her all at once, choking herself on a scream.

Clambering to her feet, she willed every muscle in her body to move, breaking out in a sprint. Helga pulled herself onto the window, righting herself. There was no hesitation in her body as one foot left the safety of stone, treading air.

Kida had never run so fast, pushed her body to such an extreme. As Helga’s body dipped forward, she reached the window.

“No!”

One desperate attempt to save everything, she lunged at Helga, clutching her lower body and pulled. All the strength she had left went into the action, force so great that in combination with the stone as leverage, she managed to pull Helga, who hadn’t anticipated any such manoeuvre, back.

Weight of both too much, gravity worked its magic, toppling them over. Letting out a cry, Helga fell back on Kida, whose back made contact with the ground first. All air punched out of her gut as the heavier woman crashed on top of her. Holding on, none of her strength or conviction faltering, Kida kept Helga in her grasp, squeezing tight.

The woman emitted another cry, which tore through Kida’s heart, sounding so helpless, desperate even. Struggling to free herself, Helga tried to kick, claw at Kida, muscles rippling beneath her fingers. Before a single move touched her, pain burst through both their bodies. Kida looked on as a thousand tiny red lines opened across Helga’s body, oozing red light and darkness. Light Kida had learned to fear.

Still dazed, Kida tried to shake them off, but the light seeped across her skin, pulling at it, trying to burrow underneath. The sting hurt, crying out, she let go of Helga’s form, rolling over, trying to get them off. It didn’t work, light following her, tendrils spreading over her limbs.

Sight blurred by tears, she could barely make out Helga’s form, bowed in anguish. Broken cries – more animalistic than human – left her. With each, her body spasmed, more and more of the ichor leaking out, staining the ground. Head thrown back, then forward, snapping against stone with an ugly crack. Getting a clear view of her face for the first time, Kida could see the cracks forming along her lower face, running from her jaw to her mouth, light mixing with blood, rivulets winding down.

Cold dread settled in Kida’s bones. Not her own, but of the surrounding darkness The last time she had felt it, it had induced an oppressive despair in her, willing her heart to relinquish its beat. Now, she wondered why any of this mattered. Her father was dead, the kingdom in shambles, a monster tearing her to shreds. Maybe she should simply give in now, get it all over with. Why draw out such a miserable existence when she could experience oblivion. All she had to do was stay still, let the blackness take her. Red light pulled her in, pattern rhythmic, at once synonymous with her heartbeat.

Raw sobs woke her from her stupor, spell broken. Dazed, Kida looked around, saw the blackness covering her legs, red swirling around her head. Shaking off the cold apathy, she concentrated on the broken form on the ground.

This would not be how her life ended.

Pulling herself free from the blackness, she stumbled towards Helga, collapsing next to her. Undeterred, she extended her arms one last time, pulling the shivering form into her, squeezing. The pain of the surrounding energy was choking, but she pushed on, head sinking next to the whimpering one beside.

“Helga, I need you to stop this. I know you are afraid, but you are not alone. I am here, and I won’t let us perish this way. I will do everything in my power to make sure you get out okay. But I need you to do this one thing for me first, okay? Stop this light from killing us. I know you can do it.”

Words impossibly gentle amidst the storm around them, Kida did not have faith that Helga could save them both. She was little more than an animal now, somehow reduced to this wild form, mind finally broken. But still, she held onto hope. That there was a last piece deep inside that rough form, trying to come out. Reaching towards it, she whispered even more quiet than before, barely audible, while one hand gently caressed the stained stone beneath.

“I am here. And I won’t leave you.”

Chocked sobs wracked Helga’s body as the darkness spread further, crawling up their bodies, consuming hers first. The red light pulsed brighter than before, and with each one it snapped towards Kida, taking a hold of her. Her tattoo burned, skin feeling like it was peeling off.

Raising her head, Helga’s eyes moved to gaze at her, and Kida did so in turn. Red swirling, haze suspended over what lay beneath. She looked at her and saw in her face something of which she had caught sight of before. Under the blazing wildness; terror, and a terrible fear of disappearing inside the best, succumbing to it. Dreadfully moving, and it made her want, in paired anguish, to reach out and comfort.

Single flicker of blue in the red ocean was all it took. Eyes lighting up, darker than before, but so deeply hopeful it hurt to look, yet she would never look away. The darkness, with it the depressive dread, oppressive despair receded, vanishing between the lines in Helga’s skin, red light sealing the cracks shut. As if they had never been there to begin with.

Silence settled over them, broken only by miserable sobs, Helga’s body shivering in her hold. Not breaking eye contact, Kida reached out with her other hand, cradling Helga’s face in both. Tears ran tracks through blood, both mixing, warming her palms. As was the blood, red eyes swirled with a world of hurt yet remained unblinking.

“I knew you could do it.”

Pulling Helga against her, uncaring for the mess it made, she held her against her chest, stroking along a trembling back.

“Rest now. Know that I am here.”

*

Blood. Blood everywhere. Clogging her mouth, nose, ears, eyes. Her throat spasming around it, trying to push a scream past, choking on it. Chest filled to the brim, every fibre of her dunked into it, body drowned, soaked, threatening to burst; a carcass bloating after death, spraying its innards for all to feast on.

Each desperate breath accompanied by a wet squelch pushing mucus and blood out, mixing with tears and acid, burning the skin. It’s not enough, mind delirious, underwater once again. Only this time there is no way to escape, no surface to break. It tries, anyway, beating against her skull, cracking the vulnerable bone, each hit a searing pain, pushing the hard-won breath out of her body again. It’s a fight against herself, neither instinct letting up, one part escaping, the other dying. For a moment she imagined it must feel the same to be crucified.

Opening her eyes, everything was bathed in a red haze. Shaking her head, Helga didn’t know whether it was blood or something in her head not working right. An ache sat deep in her bones, an urge rising beneath the skin, threatening to break the surface. Barely restraining whatever it was, Helga tried to keep her wits about her, not giving into whatever it was that tried to take control of her mind.

But the power was not hers to grant, control not hers to hold. The thing spread through her mind, every remote corner, burying its claws deep in the fractures in her mind. In a blink all control was gone, all that was left the animalistic urge to survive.

A predator without prey is doomed to starve, prey without predator fearing for its life without cause. Clambering to her knees, her turned this way and that, trying to find something. A thread, an enemy, an escape. Whatever, as long as it kept moving.

A voice called out in the back, her own or maybe not. No way to tell. Something caught her eye. Lying on a cot was a woman, dark skin peeking out between tight bandages, red stains not entirely washed out of either clothes or body. Unsure why, she moved towards it, clumsy, body exhausted. It called to her like a broken bird, ugly, hideous, not deserving of life.

Reaching the bed, she rose up to her full height, staring down at the form below. Lithe, medium height, long hair sprawled unbound on a pillow. Breath tense, unsteady. Wheezing accompanying each intake. A single move would be enough, squeeze the life out of her. Crack the neck, crush the windpipe, split the face.

Again, something called out behind her. It was of no matter. Only this, this mattered now. Why? Why? Why do we do anything? No, she reminded herself. This is Thoash. She matters.

Because?

Because she nearly died for me.

Then why not finish the job? The voice was everywhere all at once, whispering succulently.

I am not a killer.

Oh, but you are.

Fuck you.

Do it. Go on. It would be so easy. And you would finally know peace.

With anger burning bright, it took everything in Helga to rebel against the animalistic urge, pushing, fighting it. A losing battle maybe, but not one she would forfeit. This wasn’t her.

No. I refuse.

A snapped thread, stillness settled in her body. Her vision cleared, red receding, maddening urge in her mind gone. In its stead, she found gaping emptiness, broken pieces of a former mind. But she was alone now. Finally, alone in her mind. Slight tingle at the back of her head reminded her that that wasn’t true completely, a presence remaining. The Heart. But it was small now, unassuming, only watching.

Lip quivering, Helga reached down, touching Thoash, letting a single finger glide along her forehead. The woman did not stir, but the frown upon her brow settled, features more relaxed than before. For the first time since Helga had woken up, she felt like she was in control of her own body again. Like her mind was her own, not a splintered mess of broken, scattered pieces pretending to be a mind, but a real consciousness, aware and alive. Had she ever felt this free? Despite belonging to the wrong body, she finally felt like she could let go. Just exist.

“Step back!”

The voice was real then. Helga had barely registered it before, simply chalking it up to be another one of the Heart’s ploys. Turning now, she could clearly see the agitated man before her. He was slight in form, barely reaching her shoulders, back bent forward, a cane at his side.

“You are hurt, and she is too. You should be resting, not running out and about,” having mistaken his tone for anger before, she could clearly hear the concern in it now.

Was he a doctor? It would explain the bandages covering Thoash and the bitingly bitter scent of herbs that permeated the air she hadn’t noticed until now.

“How are you feeling? You looked bad when they brought you in, took quite some time to clean you up,” the man inclined his head, one hand pointing up and down, “Think I did a rather good job at it.”

Clearing her throat, trickle of blood leaving it, Helga stepped away from the resting Thoash, the pull between them gone. The man stepped towards her; eyes crinkled in obvious inspection. Used to it from her time in the military, Helga withstood the piercing gaze, unflinching.

A chuckle left the man at the obvious tension in her body. He shook his head, as he turned, struggling to a chair. Letting himself drop ungraciously, he threw her teasing smirk, “I saw you as a whimpering beast. You need not stand like a statue before me.”

Bristling at the comment, Helga fisted her hands, baring her teeth. How dare he insinuate any of that? Ready to cut him down with a scathing remark, the sudden intake of breath behind her stopped her in her tracks.

“Helga?”

She knew the voice.

“In the flesh,” turning, she came face to face with Milo, who sat upright on another cot like Thoash’s.

He seemed in much less a critical condition than her, still wearing his vest, the edge of a bandage peeking through under the blanket.

“I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” assuming at first it was simply an Atlantean custom to treat people rudely, the theory was quickly dropped at Milo’s comment. What was it with people annoying her today?

“You didn’t look so good when the guards carried you in. Covered in blood-“ he gestured from his face to his torso,”-and making all sorts of noises. I think no one expected you to wake up again. Kida said we should give you some time but, I didn’t think there was any hope in waiting.”

Cocking her head, brows frowning, mouth pulled down, Milo fidgeted under her gaze.

“I was wrong, I guess. I was in here before they brought you in and must have fallen asleep before you woke up,” he hesitated before speaking again, as if mulling over his words. Helga did not like it when people took so much time to think. It meant they were hiding something, contemplating how to best articulate a certain subject without revealing too much.

“How are you feeling? You know, after everything that happened? It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Now that did catch her curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just thought that the ritual looked awful You were laying there, and I mean Thoash nearly died. You must have been hurt as well.”

“I don’t remember much of what happened,” no idea why she was being so honest right now, something within her felt compelled to tell the truth, “Only what transpired in my mind. Not my mind exactly, it’s difficult to explain. I saw something in there. And I talked to the Heart.”

As she said the words, blood rushed in her ears drowning everything else out. Flashes of what she had seen: the moments leading up to her death. Then her own death, caused by Rourke and a flaming fucking balloon. The Heart, finding use in her dead body, binding the already splintered mind back to it, sending her crashing back into life.

With the flood of memories also came a tingle of excitement and apprehension, familiar to her, same cocktail of feelings she experienced before any grand mission. The Heart had sensed another threat coming, dangerous enough to warrant the recruitment of a traitorous outsider. Of course, her body was made of the same thing as part of her mind now. Reanimation hadn’t been enough for the Heart; it had wanted for a servant. Someone to fulfil its bidding, nothing lesser than a body made in its image would be enough. She would be forced to protect Atlantis. Or die for it. The latter seemed much more likely the more she learned about the Heart. It reminded her of Jesus, born destined only to die. Never having had a choice in the matter either

Snapping up straight, she locked her jaw tight, turning on the spot. She had to find Kida now. Tell her everything she had seen, all the Heart revealed. Taking no note of Milo’s shocked expression, or the twitch of the body at her periphery, she marched towards the door. The healer called something out to her, but she did not hear him, focused solely on one thing.

For the first time, she had control over her body again, felt in control over each and every move. It felt exhilarating. Speeding up, she nearly jogged through the maze that was the palace corridors. She had never been in this wing before, turns and doors unfamiliar. Too late she realized how hard careless it had been to go alone. Finding Kida before had been difficult, but now? The task seemed impossible. Though she did not want to, talking to servant might be the only way to make any kind of progress, especially now that time was of the essence.

Turning right, right again, then left (each decision based on instinct, though Helga was unsure just how much she could trust them), she reached an open hall. On the left-hand side windows spanned the expanse of the room, though she could not see the view it provided. The other side narrowed into another corridor, this one wider but lower than the ones she had wandered before. Every part of the walls was covered in moss, vines, little plants sprouting through cracks in the stone. It might have been pretty, had it not reminded her of cracks of a different kind. Pulling her mind back, not willing to revisit those memories, Helga made to walk down the open corridor, before approaching footsteps interrupted her.

Instinct told her to take cover, but as guards came into view it was too late. Chattering among themselves they might have marched right past her, would it not have been for one very young looking one at the rear whose head turned towards her, deep in thought. His eyes seemed far away, but at once they cleared, taking her in. Before she could take action, he shouted out, alarming his comrades who noticed her only now.

Hostile, they rushed at her, spears ready, shields pulled up. Helga retreated, stone wall digging into her back. In moments all four of them had surrounded her, eyes ablaze. One man’s hand trembled around his spear, another’s shield unsteady in his grip, and she wondered whether it was anger or fear that had them in such a state.

Outnumbered, without weapon and not intent on finding her own death here, Helga raised her hands in a show of peace. They did not seem to care for the fact that she was at a clear disadvantage, pressing closer still. Entire body locked tight, Helga ground her teeth, mulling over how to get out of this predicament alive. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to fight, but she knew a fruitless endeavour when she saw one. Confrontation with Kida had proven she could harm no Atlantean for fear of killing herself, and she was not keen on unleashing another darkness right now. Not with Kida not here to pull her back from the brink.

“What are you doing here,” one guard stepped closer than the rest, instead of a spear he carried a short sword in his hand, pointed right at Helga’s throat.

Swallowing, the motion scraping against the metal – and sending a shiver down her spine – Helga was glad that at least one of them was bright enough to ask questions without attacking first. Fighting against the need to get away further (there was nowhere to go she had to remind her own body) she scanned the four guards, before locking eyes with the one who had addressed her.

“I need to speak with the princess. It’s urgent.”

Laughs erupted across the group, some unable to keep their spears straight as it shook their shoulders.

“And what business could one like you have with one of her standing?”

Sneering, Helga held back from spitting at their feet.

“It’s important. You have to take me to her.”

“We decide the urgency of business, especially ones concerning a dirty murderer like you.”

The blow landed as intended, forcing air out of Helga’s chest. Deflating: shoulders sinking, head lowered, she bit her tongue. The truth of the words had not been lost on her, binding the blackness around her heart tighter. But this was no time for such insults. Their lives and the destiny of Atlantis was at stake. Fighting back dark thoughts, Helga looked up again.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but your princess does. Take me to her and you will not regret it.”

Her words were delivered with urgency, concealing the rough and roaming darkness below. The man looked swayed, eyes flickering between her and the other guards. Before she could do anything to further convince him to let her go, the youngest of the group, the one who had seen her first, spoke up.

“Shut your mouth, roodihs!”

Clenching her jaw shut, Helga kept a snide remark to herself, unwilling to make this situation worse for her. Unexpectedly, the man with the sword turned and replied full of venom, “Take your own advice, Gdemohuergoas. You know nothing yet.”

“But commander, she-“

“What did I just say? Can you not follow a simple command? Maybe I should send you back out to clean up the latrines if you do not know how to behave yourself.”

Barely holding back a grin, Helga delighted at the notion that cleaning the latrines was a punishment across all cultures. Though it was stupid and entirely sentimental in nature, she appreciated this little piece of knowledge she shared with the guards.

Seething, the young guard averted his eyes. His rebellion was quenched for a moment. The other two guards had followed the exchange with differing expressions, one exasperated, trying to keep her eyes on Helga, the other with anger that mirrored Gdemohuergoas’s.

Turning back to her, the commanders’ eyes looked her up and down, one brow pulled up.

“See something you like?” the words hadn’t even left her mouth before Helga regretted them. This was not the time to play with sarcasm. This was life and death.

Thankfully the guard ignored her question, cocking his head instead, pressing the sword even closer, another scraping sound echoing of the walls.

“I have never seen something like you. Were it not for the fact that you are an outsider who betrayed us I might have found myself interested to study you more in depth.”

Okay, so he did actually reply to her comment, that was fine, Helga could deal with that. Flirting came easy as breathing to her. Though she doubted she could use it to her advantage here, it might be worth a try. (It always left her feeling dirty.)

“Is that so? Who says you cannot now? You would just have to let me speak to the princess.”

Eyes glinting dangerously, the man stepped even closer, barely enough space between him and Helga to breath. The blade still dug into her skin. If she were to strike now, she could flip him over, rip the blade from his hand, parry the incoming strikes, then run. Blood singing at the prospect of violence, she stamped it down quickly. She couldn’t go through with any of it now, her body now so willing on drawing blood would become hell-bent on spilling her own. For a second a real flicker of fear licked at the back of her throat. Would she be able to defend herself now, if this guard tried anything? Or would the Heart deem it an attack and punish her for saving herself?

“You should be lucky you are still alive. They-“ eyes flickering over to the three guards, then back to Helga, he lowered his voice further, “-want to see you dead.”

“And what do you want?”

Licking his lips, the commanders’ eyes roved over her body. Helga felt his hunger in every pore and despised them both for it. She knew she was beautiful, both men and women fell under her spell without so much as a fight. Now that was all she wished for, to dig a blade into his throat, or better yet, his eye. Hear the wet squelch of the penetration, knowing it dug deep into the brain beyond, then, twisting it violently to the side, spilling fluids on the stone.

“What is going on?”

The familiar voice sent a wave of relief over Helga, shoulders already less tense than they had been before. Though she could not move away from the blade pressed against the underside of her jaw, she knew it was the princess herself, Kida who had spoken. How many times will this woman come to my rescue? The number was embarrassingly high already and only continued to rise. Begrudge her any of these attempts however she could not. Especially now.

The other three guards stepped back, though they kept their spears trained on her, lowering their heads in deference. Flashing her a quick, dirty grin, the commander did not turn around as he addressed her.

“We found her lurking in the hall and took action.”

“So you cornered her like a street rat?”

Offsetting him, the remark was not what he had expected. He did turn around now, sword itching higher, touching the underside where Helga’s tongue rested. She pulled it back, stretching her neck in an attempt to evade the blade. It followed.

“With all due respect princess, is that not what we do with rats? Catch and punish them?”

“And what would you suggest, then? I gave the guards and servants orders already. She is a guest in my house and as such is not to be intersected. She is free to move as she pleases, as long as she doesn’t leave the palace.”

The words shocked the guards, who complied quickly. Kida had granted her free passage across the palace. Sure, she could not leave, but this was an interesting (and undeserving in her mind) development she did not expect.

Threatened though they were, they would never disobey an order from their princess. Refusing to budge, only the commander held fast.

“You cannot be serious, she is a danger to-“

“Unhand her. At once.”

Another voice spoke this time, clear and deep, noticeably used to being obeyed. Leaving no space for confrontation, the words made Helga feel hopeful her predicament would yet end in a more civil manner.

Angry, the commander withdrew his blade, taking no care to do it carefully, as the steel scraped along her skin. Had it not been stone it would have drawn blood. Able to finally move without fear of impalement, Helga rolled her shoulders and neck, working out the tension. Sheathing the blade, he took as step towards where Kida stood, bowing. Granted the chance to look over his back at Kida, Helga felt nothing but elation. Kida watched the commander with unconcealed disdain, clearly unhappy with his conduct. Movement next to her drew Helga’s eye, as a woman stepped forward. She wore the same garb as the other guards, grey pants, blue shirt tucked in and minimal armour covering the arms and chest. What set her apart was the delicately braided thread that wound around a piece of armour covering her right shoulder, into which different pieces of silver and blue jewellery had been woven.

“Return to your posts. You are dismissed.”

Scrambling to leave, the three guards stumbled past, quickly trekking back down the corridor. Taking his time, the commander rose to his full height. Helga could not see either his expression or that of the other two as he obstructed her view, but judging from the tense silence whatever was passed between them, it wasn’t pleasant.

Taking a step forward, he turned for a moment, throwing her another grin and a wink seeping with cruel intent. Despite being pressed against it already, the motion made her back further into the wall, disgust rolling in her stomach.

Giving the princess and guard a wide berth, he marched off, probably hoping to find the group that had abandoned him. His steps resounded along the stone long past the time he disappeared down the corridor, but none of them moved, said a word so long as they still heard him. Keeping her breathing shallow, Helga listened intently.

Only once they were all sure he was gone did the tension break. Despite the attendance of the unknown woman, Helga could not help herself. She let her head fall back against the stone, relaxing as she felt the coolness seep into her skin.

Her ears picked up the sound of running, before her body could brace itself. Feeling sudden weight launched against herself, only the wall kept her from kissing ground. Ready to defend herself, body on high alert, she looked down, only to be greeted with a head of white hair and arms squeezing around her midriff.

Surprise coloured her cheeks pink, as she tried to understand the situation. Kida was… hugging her? Not entirely sure what the appropriate response would be, she stayed still, letting the gesture wash over her. It felt good. Having someone close, feeling touch that was neither out to hurt nor break. When was the last time someone had reached out to her, not with a closed fist or a weapon, but with open arms?

Feeling the urge to reciprocate the gesture, Helga hesitantly moved her arms, closing them around the princess. Soft at first, she was convinced the guard would behead her as a shudder ran through Kida’s body and a soft sob made its way past them both. But no sword came for her marked neck, instead the arms tightened even further, drawing her in. Helga responded in kind; grip strong if unsure. Feeling Kida nuzzle her head further into her neck. Tenderness of the moment overwhelming her, Helga bowed her head down, pressing further against her. She felt Kida mumble something into her neck, felt the sensation of breath ghosting over skin, but wasn’t able to make anything out.

Pulling back to talk to her, Helga looked down at the princess whose relief almost rivalled her own.

“I am so glad to see you are alright. Truly.”

“Thank you, I-“ unsure how to word it correctly, Helga averted her eyes and swallowed, “-wasn’t exactly sure what had transpired until I found myself in a hospital room.”

“Then I have much to tell you.”

Tinged with something like sadness, or disappointment, the words had Helga’s eyes snap back to her. The space between them was still small, all it would take was a reach of an arm to cross it, yet it felt entirely too wide as well, like an ocean that had to be bridged. She hated it.

Coming back to herself, Helga remembered her original mission, why she had set out to find Kida.

“It worked.”

Having seemed lost in thought, Kida’s eyes cleared as she looked up at her, “What did?”

“The dream. It worked. We were there and talked to the Heart.”

Eyes open wide, mouth open, Kida stared at her, speechless. At once, she pulled on her arm, turning towards where Helga had come from.

“You have to tell me at once!”

Before they started walking, a cough grabbed their attention, heads turning to the sound. The woman stood there, having silently watched the whole time. Helga felt ashamed at knowing their display of affection had been witnessed by someone, though the woman did not seem tense at all.

Kida made a sound in the back of her throat that reeked of embarrassment, facing both her and the woman.

“Helga, let me introduce you to Gkhewtewtekh. She is the captain of our army and also the one who first informed us of your appearance.”

The introduction was like cold water, a shock to her system. What did she mean by that? Had she been spotted outside, before she came to the castle? She was sure no one had recognised her, so careful to keep up her disguise.

Bowing her head, Helga jolted at the show of respect, not used to being treated like this by Atlanteans.

“One of my men caught a glimpse of you as we restored order on the south furthest beach. I reported his findings to the princess. We went out to search for you but were unsuccessful.”

Returning the gesture, both scanned over the others’ appearance. Gkhewtewtekh stood tall, as tall as her. Her hair was straight and stopped right above her shoulders, a part gathered into a low bun at the back. Countless tattoos covered her body, most following a similar swirling pattern that grew and fell, others more intricate, depicting something, Helga not versed enough in the art to understand. Her face was stern but not unkind, a square jaw and straight nose prove of her upright character. Helga offered a rather poor vision in comparison, clothes dirty, soaked in blood. Hair tangled and unkept, faint shadow of blood clinging to her face and body. Pathetic, really.

But Gkhewtewtekh did not remark on her state, choosing instead to address the princess.

“We should join the others in the healer’s room. Milo has requested to see you and Threhuihnthoash’s condition might have bettered itself.”

“It has been but a day, but yes, you are right. This is not a conversion fit to have standing in a hallway. Let us go then.”

Though everything she had learned threatened to spill from Helga right this instance, she felt she would die if she did not share the information, Kida grabbed her hand before she could protest and pulled her along.

Confused, Helga looked down at their entangled hands. Kida did not have to do that; she would have followed regardless. Warmth spread through her chest and for once she ignored the nagging voices in her head, choosing to treasure this moment instead.

*

Walking through the doors of the healer’s room for the second time in a day exhausted Kida beyond what she had to give. Everything that had happened nagged at her, every little problem building up, threatening to spill over. Seeing Helga alive and well, her old self again had been a blessing. After they had collapsed in her chamber she had cried into the collar of her shirt, stress and adrenaline overwhelming her.

Once the guards had arrived, they had carefully separated the two, Kida unwilling to let go of Helga. Two of them had carried Helga, she had told them to be as careful as possible and once they had started walking grabbed her loosely swinging hand, intertwining their fingers. Walking to the healer’s room had taken much longer than she remembered, each step an eternity.

After they had finally made it, setting Helga down on a stretcher, she had turned towards the healer and told him what had happened. He was an old man, had been the leading healer for as long as she could remember, preceded even her father. Nodding, one hand carding through his long beard, he had listened intently to her story, before shooing her to the side and tending to Helga.

Kida traced a finger along the edge of the stretcher, feeling the indents and holes left by countless patients before. Stopping at one particularly deep cut in the bedding, a smile wormed its way on her lips. A younger her had sat on this very bed, complaining endlessly about all the nasty smelling concoctions and brews sitting around, as Smeroosme treated another of her countless cuts. She had been a rowdy child, always exploring, pushing herself to new extremes, finding places no one else had visited in quite some time. Each adventure had come accompanied by new scratches, cuts, sometimes burns or twisted ankles, even a broken toe and cracked rib once. Smeroosme had cared for her then, methodically taking care of her wounds, all while bestowing her with a quiet yet stern gaze. It had been her mission in those moments of forced rest to annoy him into breaking his façade. She had never managed to, started to suspect that deep down he simply was a worry wart who never laughed. It didn’t bother her too much, as she grew older, she gained more experience, had to be treated less and less and consequently didn’t see him much.

As his red robes rustled with every move, Kida chose to use her time more wisely and walked over to Thoash, who was resting on another stretcher. Several cuts marred her forehead and cheeks. All had been cleaned, some bandaged, others covered with a shimmering, green substance. Beneath her eyes, nose and mouth Kida could still see faint traces of blood, the smell clinging to her, mixed with deep herbal aroma. The necklace around her neck rested now, so unassuming now that everything was over. Lower Kida could see that she had been partly undressed, bandages covering her upper body, parts of a tattoo along her collarbone revealed.

Heart squeezing at the view, Kida felt herself reminded of the sacrifice Thoash had made for them. She was the princess, would be crowned queen soon, but she would have never ordered her to connect to the Heart. Her father might, but she was not that kind of person, valued freedom too much. Seeing her like this, pale and beaten down had the pit in her stomach grow bigger. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, no one should have got hurt. It had been her fault; it was her responsibility as queen to keep her subjects safe. And she had failed. Biting her lip, fingers curling into her palms, Kida turned away, unable to bear the view any longer. She had to get out, breath fresh air. Scent of herbs and paste was making her nauseous.

Sparing a quick glance at Milo’s bed, she saw the man was sleeping. He looked good, hadn’t been too hurt before and would recover quickly, she was sure. He was tough like that. Mumbling a goodbye unfitting for a queen, she stumbled past Smeroosme, storming through the doors as they came into reach.

Now she returned, much calmer if not any less tense. Whatever it was that Helga had to share she could not wait to hear it. Passing through the always open doors, Smeroosme looked up from where he was sitting. His form was hunched over, not from the sitting position, but because it was how he was born. On his desk several glasses rested, each with a different mixture of herbs, paste or fluid inside. A cane leaned against the edge, in danger of falling over. It smelled of metal which she wasn’t used to.

“Ah, princess. Here to talk to the gamosetot? I’m afraid he is out, said he needed some fresh air. I don’t know what he means, but I did not stop him.”

Feeling her lips rise a bit, Kida only shook her head. Of course, he wouldn’t notice how intense the smell was, immune to it by now.

“That too. But we came here to talk about important business.”

“Ah. Then don’t let me stop you. Do not disturb the young Threhuihnthoash, she still needs to rest.”

“Smeroosme, I told you, I appreciate all that you have done for me, but I am not a frail, little child! I feel much better already.”

All three of them turned at the voice, surprised to see Thoash very much awake and looking much better than the last time Kida had seen her.

“No, truly, you are worse. You are a frail, little adult who does not listen when I tell her to stay in bed.”

“That was one time! I had to make sure the princess would hear what I have to say.”

“And now she is here, is she not? Sometimes, child, all you must do is trust,” turning back, he murmured something that to Kida’s keen ears distinctly sounded like ‘Today’s youth. So impatient’.

All three of them made their way over to Thoash, who was resting on the bed, propped up on two pillows, blanket pooled around her waist.

“Princess! It is good to see you, I have much to share with you!”

“Yes, Thoash, Helga already mentioned that you talked to the Heart.”

Cocking her head, she regarded her with scrunched brows and pursed lips, “Just talking with the Heart? What about-“

“The Heart talked to us directly. You should tell the princess what it said, that is what is important.”

Kida’s head swivelled had the interruption. Helga tensed next to her; eyes narrowed. She could see her jaw working, fingers twitching.

Thoash’s brows shot up, mouth in an ‘O’ shape as the two stared at each other. Fingers fumbling with the blanket, she looked at Kida, then back, then at Kida again.

“The Heart did talk to us.”

Unsure what to make of this situation but also unwilling to call Helga out in front of all these people, she decided to let the matter rest for now and question her later. Taking a seat on the stretcher next to Thoashs’ she motioned for Tekh and Helga to do the same. Shaking her head, Tekh crossed her arms and kept looking at something beyond Kida. Turning, Helga seemed reluctant to sit, so Kida pulled at the leg of her ruined pants and pulled her down next to her. Letting out a soft grunt, Helga settled, back straight, hands palm down on her legs.

“So, what did it say? This is incredible, no one has talked to it in so many years.”

Smiling at the compliment, Thoash continued, “It was very hard to make sense of it at first. Everything felt jumbled, nothing made sense. But then, there was this sudden clarity,” at this her smile seemed to nearly break her face, “And then we could hear it. It talked directly to us; I had never experienced anything like it!”

As she continued, her expression grew more sombre, thinking first, then even darker, “It told us that the threat to Atlantis was not yet stopped. Something is coming and poses a danger to all of us.”

Without meaning to, Kida’s eyes caught onto Helga, whose form had become even more agitated than before. Thoash picked up the subtle gesture, shook her head.

“She isn’t the danger. On the contrary, the Heart said, she is meant to protect us.”

Disbelief vanished all colour from her cheeks. With an open mouth her head swivelled to Helga who flinched back under the sudden gaze of all three women. Breaking her perfect posture, one hand went to card through her hair, only to get caught in a tangle, the other pulled at her shirt.

“You?”

Without knowing, she had spoken, Kida looked on in shock. Though it might have been true that she did not hate the woman as much as she had hoped, or was supposed to or whatever, she could not wrap her mind around the fact that Helga was supposed to save them. Save Atlantis. It was laughable at best, downright insulting at worst. They didn’t need saving and especially not from her.

“The Heart was clear. It brought her here for this very purpose.”

Anger burned through Kida. They had not successfully defeated the outsider mercenaries to surrender themselves to the care of their second-in-command. Helga locked eyes with her, blue glowing softly, “Kida, I’m-“

Not giving her the time to finish apologizing, Kida shot up, glared at the woman one last time, then stormed outside, again.

Footsteps followed, strong against her frantic. A hand touched her back, Kida reared around, hand ready to slap Helga, but instead she came face to face with Tekh. Angry at having been stopped in her escape, Kida huffed, glaring.

“Kida, I know you are angry, but running away won’t help. You have a chance now to react to whatever this threat is before it can rear its ugly head and if the cost for keeping Atlantis safe is an outsider helping, then it is a good bargain. You know that.”

Stomping one foot, Kida marched up and down, “I know that! This is good news. We know why Helga is here, why she is fucking blue and that something wants to harm us.”

“Then why do you behave like a child?”

“Because it’s her! It’s her, Tekh, one of the soldiers who killed my father, betrayed us, tried to steal me away. How can we trust her? Why would the Heart ever select someone like her to help, and not me? Or anyone else.”

Hands grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face Tekh. Looking down at her, the woman smiled gently, pieces of carefully styled hair falling into her face.

“I’m sorry. I know how I sound. I am being ungrateful when we have been granted an advantage in a battle we didn’t even know was coming.”

Letting her head sink, Tekh’s fingers caught her chin and pulled it up again, “It is unfair, I know. She has caused us much harm and deserves to be judged for that. But I must ask, Kida, because I am your friend, and I care for you deeply. We found you both in your room and the guards told me you defended her against them. Why? If you do not think her worthy of protecting Atlantis, why did you protect her?”

Speechless, all Kida could do was stare at her. Yes, it was true that Helga had ambushed her in her room and that Kida did want to kill her. The only thing that had stopped her then was the fact her dagger might never have pierced her stone skin. And after? What about how she held her hand around her throat, saving them both from promised death. Helga had fallen asleep on her bed two separate times and in neither instance, she had had the urge to wake her, sitting instead, caressing her face. What about before the ritual when Helga had looked at her, stripped bare for the first time, each emotion plain as moonlight on her face, so unguarded and trusting. Or after, when her whole being had been reduced to an angry animal set on killing herself. Why had she done any of those things? Priding herself on her never-ending thirst and pursuit of knowledge, Kida was stumped. There was no logical answer, nothing she could tell Tekh that she would believe as well.

The truth was… She cared for Helga. It pulled her apart on the inside. Torn between loyalty to her people and these new feelings she couldn’t have ever anticipated. But she did not dare tell Tekh, not yet. Not ever, maybe, but even thinking it felt like betraying everything she stood for.

“Maybe it is not revenge that you seek.”

Whispered words shared between the two of them filled the hole in Kida’s stomach.

Maybe it is not revenge that you seek.

She had to get out, get some fresh air, talk to Milo, anything that wasn’t standing here and confronting her feelings.

“I have to go.”

“I understand. I will brief the guards, then we will confer later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Tekh echoed, smiling still.

Nodding, she stepped back. Starting to walk, but then thinking better on it, she turned her head, “I appreciate you, Tekh. I want you to know that.”

“I do.”

Reaching the end of the corridor, Kida had nearly stepped out of her line of sight, as Tekh’s voice rang out again.

“I do not trust her. She is hiding something. You should find out what it is.”

*

“Why did you do that?”

Helga had kept on sitting even as everything in her screamed to get up and follow Kida. She was angry, rightfully so. Convincing herself that Kida would not wish to see her right now she had stayed seated, Gkhewtewtekh going after her instead. Helga was glad for it, the captain unnerved her. Used to being inspected and prodded at, the other woman sent a chill down her back as she had fixed her with those calculating eyes. No doubt she would be telling Kida all about her suspicions regarding her. Was it too late to flee?

Not in the mood to answer such a loaded question, Helga merely groaned.

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that! I was in your head, I saw the shit you keep in there,” though she sounded angry, it was another emotion that drove her to such extreme wordings, “Why did you stop me from telling the princess everything we saw?”

Heaving her body onto the stretcher, Helga rested against the pillow, legs stretched out, sighing. Thoash sat up straighter, whole body turned to her. Thinking of how to phrase it best, Helga was reluctant to speak again, forcing words through a clenched jaw. She did that a lot these days, could feel the strain it put on her muscles, how sore they felt.

“Those were not your memories to see, less so to share.”

Keeping to herself that even she did not want to see them. Witnessing her own death, how her body had hit the ground, limbs cracking, blood splattering had torn something inside her to shreds. The image of her own body laying sprawled, spine ripped in half; her head cleaved open; hips dislocated; one leg bend to the side and the other simply missing, it had been too much. Her sanity couldn’t take it. And the reveal after did not help one bit. She had died and the Heart in its infinite fucking wisdom had brought her back to life, forcefully binding an obliviated mind to the body. The lava that had swallowed her after had not been able to do enough damage to do her in again, the crystalline form taking over before it broke anything that couldn’t be fixed. And now she was stuck with this mess. No, that truly was not something to be shared with anyone, least of all the princess.

Though a small part and Helga hated even thinking about it, longed to talk to Kida, confide in her. If not her, who? She had no one else.

“But I did see them. You can’t turn that back. The question is, what are you going to do with them?”

She had forgotten Thoash was still there, sudden voice startling her. Having no answer for her, she stewed in silence. Truthfully, what was there for her to do but to comply? The Heart could take her over whenever it pleased, there was no real agency in her life.

“How are you feeling?”

“You mean after I nearly died?”

Helga bit her tongue, cursing herself for trying to make small talk.

“I’m kidding. Well, not completely. I did nearly die, you know? Smeroosme told me that Kida found us unconscious and that you weren’t breathing any more. Guards carried me here as fast as they could, but they were sure it would be too late for me.”

Helga hadn’t known that, barely remembered that she had woken up once before the hospital, Kida at her back, a window in front of her, but she did not understand the jumbled vision.

“Wounds are not a problem for us Atlanteans. Even when the Heart had forsaken us, we could still harness our crystals to heal. They never performed miracles, mind you and this would have been one. Smeroosme said he was reluctant to use his crystal on me because my condition was caused by the Heart, but nothing seemed to help. He said I woke up right after you gained consciousness and left.”

Perking up, Helga looked at her. After being locked in silent battle with the Heart, she had touched Thoash, reassured herself that she was still alive. She hadn’t been the cause of another life lost. Had this contact played a role in her unlikely recovery?

“That’s good,” she looked much better than before. Her face had regained colour, though she was not clothed except for the bandages covering her, she seemed less like a patient moments from deaths door, but rather a young woman ready to take on any challenge.

Silence settled over them again, Helga using the moment of respite to inspect herself. Trousers torn, boots caked in mud, shirt torn in places, original white colour unrecognisable beneath all the blood, dirt and colourful powder. Used to not having a change of clean clothes, this angered her, nonetheless. She already felt like shit, did she have to look the part too?

“You should talk to Kida. She is angry, rightfully so. But I don’t think she is angry at you specifically, more at the entire situation.”

Not this again.

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“But you want to. Because you care for her.”

At that Helga laughed out loud, amused for the first time in a long time, “Oh yeah? And what gave you that impression?”

Thoash turned away, mirroring her pose. Tone serious, she played with a loose thread on the blanket, winding it around her finger, before letting go again.

“I saw the way you look at her when you think no one will take note.”

Body running cold, breath stuttering for a second, Helga tried to compose herself. It was her turn to watch Thoash, upper body leaning slightly forward. Trying to relax her ever clenched jaw, sneered, “What did you say?”

“You needn’t worry, my lips stay sealed,” face a perfect picture of nonchalance, “But I will repeat myself, you should talk to her. Reconcile with each other.”

“They don’t need to be, because you did not see anything, you understand me? Nothing,” fuming, Helga got up, marching towards the door.

The doctor sitting at his desk did not acknowledge her leaving, she wasn’t even sure he had heard anything they had talked about. Seeming lost in his own world of tinctures and alchemy. Not paying attention to where she went, she bumped into someone as she crossed the threshold. Gkhewtewtekh stood before her.

“Excuse me.”

Sighing, Helga took a moment to recompose herself. Gkhewtewtekh had been cordial enough towards her, didn’t deserve to be treated unkindly. Taking the time to apologize, Helga took the other in, noting her expression which seemed calm and unconcerned if not for the way her brows knit, or her lips were pulled in a slight frown. Helga wondered how her talk with Kida had gone and regretted briefly, that it had not been her who had gone instead.

As the thought manifested itself, she decided it would be best for her to leave, so she stepped around her and went on her way, hoping only a little to see the princess again. Feeling eyes on her back, she kept going, thoughts already in disarray. What was she supposed to do now?

Chapter Text

The healers’ rooms lay on the west side of the castle, overlooking the sprawling city and sea beyond. Though her room offered a much better view Kida found herself jealous at times, craving the same companionship the healers found in each other. They were never alone, always had another to turn to. She had never longed for long for a relationship like theirs, too consumed by her adventurous heart. It simply held no place for another. Craving it again now, she made her way to where she would most certainly find the one who would grant comfort now.

She found him leaning on the railing of a balcony, twirling a pahpeeshih in his left hand. Taking care not to make a sound, she approached him from behind. As she was right behind him, she clapped her hands over his eyes and squealed, before lowering her voice, “Who am I?”

Milo gasped in surprise, before relaxing, turning around, Kida’s hands falling from his eyes without fight.

“I would recognise that presence anywhere.”

Shaking her head, a genuine laugh left Kida. It had been too long since she had laughed.

“What are you doing out here? Should you not be resting?”

“I could ask you the same,” Milo threw her a small wink and resumed his former position.

Kida shrugged her shoulders, joining him, “I should be doing a lot of things. Then we are both doing something we are not supposed to.”

Having felt happy moments before, her mood dipped at being reminded of her responsibilities.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down. I had to get out of there because the smell was making me go crazy. I don’t know how the doctor stands it.”

“I suspect he lost his sense of smell years ago and simply has not told us yet. As a kid I could not stand it either, I used to dread each time I had to go in there because it smelled so bitter, and the smell carried over for the next days.”

“You had to visit him a lot?”

“My mother called me little fish because I had a tendency to never stay still for long and also because I would flop around like one when I got hurt,” chuckling at the memory, a wave of warmth flooded her, “There was nothing that could keep me from exploring even the most minute cave or mountain. One time, I tried climbing this tree that all the other kids were too afraid of.”

“And? You can’t leave me hanging like this, I need to know what happened.”

“Well, the tree was incredibly old and so high it was said you could see the other side of the world if you could only reach the top. But it was taller than even the highest tower of our palace, so no one dared climb high enough.”

“But little Kida did?”

“Oh yes. I could not resist a good challenge. One day while we were out playing, I looked at the tree and I do not know what came over me, but I felt if I did not climb the tree this instant I would die.”

“A little dramatic for a child, don’t you think?”

“Definitely, yes, but I never claimed not to be. So, I went up there and started climbing. The other children noticed and gathered below. They shouted at me, some saying I should get down, others encouraging me. I told them I would make it to the very top and tell them what the world looked like.”

“I can practically see it before my inner eye,” Milo nudged her with an elbow, grinning.

“I went on and on. I remember I felt so determined to do what no one had achieved before. At some point the children must have realised I was being serious because a crowd had gathered. Many were adults, shouting at me to get down. But I didn’t listen, I had a dream to fulfil.”

“This is giving me goosebumps,” Kida looked at Milo’s arm, true to his word it was covered in the little marks.

“I had made it about halfway maybe when I started struggling. The distance between the branches kept increasing, bark grew less rough, and my arms and legs were burning. I decided I would take a break once I found a good spot and continued. But as I reached for a branch, I placed my foot wrong. My entire weight was baring down on a single, fresh branch. I felt it give, and my heart stopped. There was no time to grab onto anything as I started falling, hitting sticks and branches as I went down. I tried to hold onto anything, but I was too fast, and my hands were scratched open. The people below were screaming as well.

“The only reason I survived the fall was because they had gathered below, so I fell right into their arms and because all the branches stopped me from free-falling. I did however crack a rib and got a very serious concussion. I do not remember that part, but my mother later told me I had proudly declared that I had beaten the tree, that no one had ever climbed as high as me. And I was right, no one ever attempted that again.”

Speechless, Milo looked at her, awe in his eyes. Grateful for the distraction, Kida smiled at him. This story of hers had become something of a bedtime warning for children, serving as a cautionary tale. Don’t climb too high, or you will fall even lower. It amused her to no end.

“That was incredible!”

“My father preferred to call it stupidly reckless, and I am inclined to agree. But thank you.”

Comfortable silence settled between them, both looking out across the balcony, taking in the view. No play could be as beautiful as Atlantis. Kida was sure of it. If she strained herself, she could hear sounds of celebration from the city, knowing the people were still out and about; dancing, singing, eating. It caused her joy to know they were happy.

“Do you want a bite?” holding out the pahpeeshih, sheepish look on Milo’s face. Kida gave him a soft smile, declining.

“You should enjoy it, it is your first time eating one, is it not?”

“It is. I’m looking forward to it,” lifting the fruit to his mouth, he stopped short, hand sinking down.

“How did the talk with Helga and Thoash go? Did you learn anything? Thoash seemed so excited before, said she had figured out something important.”

Scoffing at the change of topic, Kida turned so that her back leaned against the balcony railing.

“I did.”

“That sounds-” pausing to search for the right word, “-ominous.”

“I would prefer not to talk about it.”

“That bad?”

“Infuriating!” against her better judgement, Kida threw her head back, voice increasing in volume.

Milo cocked his head, turning so that his front faced her side, “Oh?”

“Apparently Helga is the key to saving Atlantis a second time, because the Heart selected her instead of- Oh, I do not know, an actual Atlantean? And now I must deal with the mess she dragged here, some kind of threat and if that was not enough, I must deal with Helga being Helga!”

“Which means?”

“She is infuriating!”

“Right, you said that already.”

Ready to snark back, Kida took a moment to compose herself. It wasn’t fair of her to snap at Milo like that, he had been nothing but supportive. Even treating Helga that way wasn’t fair. She hadn’t been the one who decided she would save Atlantis and make Kida feel things she decidedly did not want to feel. Why did all of this have to be so complicated? Helga should have simply turned out to be an asshole, maybe then she wouldn’t have had a problem with putting a dagger between her ribs. But as it stood now, Helga had surprised her. If their circumstances had been different, they could have been friends.

“You know, I’m starting to think that she isn’t as bad as I thought she was.”

Surprised at the admission, Kida turned, facing him, “What are you saying?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I know she betrayed us, kidnapped you and basically condemned Atlantis to die a slow and painful death. But now, talking to her, even just being in the same room as her, it feels less… volatile for a lack of a better word. She’s more human now than she was before.”

“Quite ironic.”

“Absolutely. But it also has me thinking, historically there are rarely people who are just evil. Even Rourke who was a massive asshole must have had some good inside him. And I never got the feeling that Helga was as ruthless as him.”

“Milo, you are not the best when it comes to reading people.”

“I know that. But I talked to her, watched her command the crew abort the Ulysses. She cared for those people. She wasn’t just after the treasure; she took genuine care of her people. When we were attacked by the Leviathan, she was the last to abandon ship, waiting until all who were left were safe,” voice quieter, he added, “I looked up to her.”

“People can change Milo. Or worse, they can hide who they truly are.”

“That is just it though, isn’t it? They can change, so why can’t she? I know what she did was vile, and I could never disregard the fact that she was there and stood by as they killed your father, but maybe she doesn’t have to be our enemy. At least while we deal with whatever threat is coming for us.”

Turning back so that her front faced the view, Kida glanced over her kingdom. What Milo had said made sense, mostly because she had thought the exact same thing, only less put together. Milo simply had a better way with words than her. Scared of admitting it to herself, a part of her cared for Helga, was glad the Heart did not kill her back in her chamber. Seeing her so ready to jump from her window had been a shock for her, mostly because she did not want to lose her. Thinking about it now she wondered why it had been so hard for her to admit it before. Friendship wasn’t an impossible task. Helga had been surprisingly nice, and Kida had felt herself enjoy the others' presence. Expanding on that was doable. Maybe even worth it.

Maybe it is not revenge that you seek.

“I am scared.”

“Of what?”

Swallowing, Kida searched Milo’s gazes, finding only compassion, open-mindedness.

“I am scared that I will open my heart to her, only to be met with hurt in return.”

He had not counted on such a monumental confession, she was sure. All assuredness went over the balcony railing as Milo turned into a red mess.

“Well, I mean… It’s only a friendship after all. Not anything you have to really commit to, it’s fine, probably, female friendships work that way, right? Right?”

“Are you… Did you think I confessed my feelings for Helga?”

How he could get any redder she did not know, Milo looked seconds from exploding, stepping from one foot to the other, coughing into his hand, “No! Well, yes, okay, maybe a little bit. I don’t know, but it sounded like it, I’m sorry you took me by surprise.”

This pulled a genuine laugh from her throat. A laugh so careless and free, Milo could not help but join in. Sites starting to hurt, Kida reigned in her laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. Not much had amused her quite like this conversation with Milo. She felt better already.

“Thank you for this, I needed a break.”

“Of course, no problem.”

“I will leave you and your pahpeeshih alone, you must be quite hungry. Tell me later how you enjoyed it.”

Making to leave, Milo’s hand on her arm stopped her. She followed it up to his eyes, finding an uncharacteristically solemn look.

“Be safe, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

A sense of déjà vu followed her, as she made her way from the balcony, throwing Milo one last, bright smile, before taking the path to her chambers. Her duties awaited her.

*

Marching through unknown palace halls, Helga mulled over Thoash’s words, scowling all the while. How dare she imply she cared for the princess! Of course, she did, but that was not the point. The only thing of importance was saving Atlantis. Her own feelings did not matter, even less in regard to the princess who had already gone through enough without having a lovesick and very much traitorous mercenary at her side. No, she would not burden Kida with such an admittance. Besides, was she not in love with that fool Milo? No, she could not justify calling him that when he was anything but. Not the brightest when it came to people, their quirks, but who could claim such vast knowledge. Certainly not her, or she would have never accepted working for – with – Rourke.

Channelling her cruelty inwards, she scolded herself. Rourke had been the root of all her problems. A saviour in her youth, he had turned into a devil. Tearing her from her life, condemning her to this dreadful existence. If she had the chance, she would punch him. No, much too mild a punishment. She would take her time, enjoy it. Watch as she drained the colour from his face, cocksure grin wiped of his lips, life-force seeping out through spilled blood.

One hand came up to roughly massage at her temple, headache splitting her head apart. As she lowered it, she caught a glimpse of her hand, blue catching light from a window, its own glow mixing with the yellow sunlight. It projected itself against the surrounding walls, with each move the columns of light followed, dancing across stone. How ugly. How beautiful. Truly, it must be a punishment from God himself, turning her into something so hideous, yet capable of producing beauty. This body had been nothing but a nuisance, a tool through which the Heart controlled her, imposing its own will on her, leaving no way to fight back.

But it had not all been bad. There had been moments – short, in between – in which the body had not only been intent on destroying, corrupting. Thinking back on those moments, all Helga could remember was the cradling touch of Kida’s soft hands, reassuring words spoken while she had been barely awake. There had even been an instance she had convinced herself must have been a dream that did seem real as she considered it now.

“It is quite a curious thing, to be a warrior and yet so vulnerable. Rest, know that I am here, and no harm shall befall you.” Helga took the words to heart, barely conscious but clinging to them. Head – heavy, dark thoughts spinning, crashing into each other – finally relieved as fingers caressed it. Fingers on her forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. Featherlight touches gliding over, moving down, threading through silver, crystal hair. Touch halting in its sincerity and unexplored newness, growing more confident as time went on. Helga drifting off to sleep, finally feeling peace.

It had happened just yesterday (what day was it even?) as her body had crashed out, leaving her exhausted and in the princess’s care. Words spoken had been too magical to be anything but figments of an unstable mind. But what Thoash had said had her reevaluating all that transpired. Could it be that Kida did like her? The thought was nearly unthinkable, but Helga remained in it, drowning in the fuzzy feeling it brought along. Where she used to feel shame there was none now. A curious thing indeed.

Talking to Kida did not seem so daunting now. If the princess had been ready to take care of her at her lowest, she might not be turned off her help. She simply had to search her out and plead her case. This could very well be her chance at redemption. Not in the true sense of the word as her crimes far outnumbered any good deed she could ever perform, but atonement may be found in servicing her. This dreadful body could be of use, then. Good. Helga did not like useless things, even less so when she was in danger of becoming one.

Resolved on the matter, she decided it was time to stop sulking and search out Kida. Stopping, she took a moment to look around, taking in her surroundings. In her quiet brooding she had kept walking, leaving behind the familiar corridor of the medicine room. How far she had gone did not register until her eyes landed on sets of familiar stepping stones leading up to an entrance hidden behind thick linen cloth. In some way her unconscious had sought out this path, despite having never walked the route before. Was it because it was one of the few familiar places in the palace? Or had it been because something inside her wished to see Kida again, the sooner, the better?

Two guards stood next to it; their eyes locked on Helga. Noticing them just now, she berated herself for her careless mistake, taking a defensive step back, ready to run at the earliest sign of hostility. Prepared to fight for her life, she did not expect for them to simply keep standing, shields at their sides, spears pointed up instead of her throat. Confusion made her raise her brows, before understanding dawned on her. Kida’s words rang in her head, repeating the instruction to the guards that she was granted free movement in the palace. It only acted to reinforce her in the decision to talk to Kida. If she trusted her enough to not keep her a prisoner tied to her bed, then she must be of some use to her still.

Though she wondered just how far her newly granted privileges truly extended, the intense stare of the guards dissuaded her from testing their limits. Instead of walking into the throne room beyond to search for Kida, she chose a different approach.

Calling out to the guards, Helga felt authority course through her veins, standing tall, unflinching. It was still a far cry from the way she had held herself back when she was under Rourke’s command, but it was the most powerful and in control she had felt for the past few days.

“Where do I find the princess?”

Both guards remained silent at first, Helga was unsure if they would deign answer her, an outsider, traitor, murderer. No number of rights granted by Kida would have the power to salvage the opinion the people had about her. It made the coils around her heart tighten. Had this been a mistake?

“She has retreated to her chambers and will soon reconvene with her advisors.”

As the right woman finished speaking, Helga inclined her head, thankful. The way to her chamber lay beyond the door hidden behind the steps, so she made her way towards it. Coming to stand before it, she took a moment to inhale, steadying herself. This was where the Heart had taken her over completely for the first time. A shudder ran down her back as cold fingers gripped around her throat, squeezing. The same coldness caressed her brain, trying and failing to calm her rising agitation. The Heart wasn’t here to take control now. Coming here had been her decision. Opening this door would be her decision. Talking to Kida would be her decision. It would not take more from her than it already had.

The door was less lavish than the rest of the castle, minimal woodworking decorating it. Putting a hand on the handle she was surprised to find it was warm. Someone had recently used it. Pulling on the handle it swung open easily. Stepping through, she found herself at the foot of another staircase. This was the first time she walked these steps and would remember it. Pushing away dark thoughts of resentment, she took the first step.

Walls painted in intense colours contrasted the previous, rather drab interior of the palace. No sign of decay could be spotted here, each stone in its proper place, no cracks appeared on the surface. How similar they were in that nature, she mused, though both her exterior and interior were laden with an abundance of mistakes and impurities. Only the red and black cracks had not made an appearance for quite some time now.

The walls were painted in blue and black, colours forming shapes that twirled around the other, at first far apart, but as she went along, they started closing in on each other, seeming to fight for dominance. For a second, Helga forgot all about her goal, walking along the wall, one hand sweeping over the artwork. The blue was coloured in bold brush strokes, sweeping wide across the stone beneath. It moved in big turns, winding around itself in places before going straight again, always intent on moving forward. On the other hand, the black was much more jagged than that, seeming much more carelessly painted. It was sharp, cutting edges, shooting up, then crashing down again. At some point splotches of the colour stained more than what seemed to have been the artists original intent.

About halfway up the stairs the colours met, small black tip piercing a great wall of blue. Though it seemed antagonistic in its intent, as Helga moved on, she saw the colours moving together, sometimes side by side, other times one wound around the other, choking, maybe? Shaking her head, Helga banished the artwork from her mind. She was no artist and was not good at interpreting feelings or actions onto paintings. That had been her brother’s domain.

Her foot made contact with the marble floor at the top of the stairs, eyes catching sight of where she was. The floor opened before her, columns reaching up, grazing the ceiling. Before her, the room opened into a spacious, light filled chamber. There were windows on both sides, through one she could catch a glimpse at the sea beyond. Though instinct screamed at her to hide, she tried to calm it. She was no mere intruder any more; the princess herself had brought forth the notion.

A mighty set of doors sat at the end of the chamber, flanked by two more guards, daring her to come close. Rising to the challenge, crossing the ground in just a heartbeat, she kept her eyes trained on them, ready for an attack. Nothing happened. Different to the guards at the throne room these two didn’t even deign her another glance, keeping their eyes straight ahead. Poised on the tips of her feet, body tilted forward, Helga had been ready to run. Not getting a reaction out of the guards unnerved her more than being cornered had before. It wasn’t natural, this order between them. She was still the enemy, even if the Heart thought differently. They should treat her as such.

The way to Kida was free, Helga took her chance. Laying a hand against one of the wooden doors, she was ready to pull at them, as the left guard – a woman of the same age as Helga – turned, body still straight and knocked the hand carrying her spear against the wood three times before loudly announcing, “Great princess, your guest wishes to seek entrance.”

Undecided how she felt at the title bestowed upon her, Helga took a step back. She hadn’t anticipated for her to announce her arrival. It made her confidence dissolve. Kida could choose to bar her entrance, withdrawing all her rights this instance. Have her bound, gagged and thrown in a cell. Helga hoped she wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure she could handle it, neither the treatment nor the knowledge it had been Kida – the one who had been so unexpectedly kind to her – to damn her to an existence of withering away. Ironic that Helga had done the same to her before.

For a few agonising seconds nothing happened, room beyond staying silent. As Helga was ready to give up hope, accepting she would never again lay eyes on the princess, her voice called from within.

“Let her enter.”

Relief flooded her system, both guards stepping forward to pull open the doors. As the chamber opened up to her, relief turned to guilt and anxiety, gnawing at her bones. Thoughts mingled in her mind, everything that could go wrong, catastrophic even. But Kida choosing to see her had to be a good thing, no? There had not been a time before where she had felt as insecure as she did now. Inadequate in every aspect, lacking in all qualities. They threatened to be her undoing. Raw emotions pulsed through her mind, none of her normal composure at the ready. It had been quite the task to pull herself together before. Now, it seemed impossible and that would not do. She had to step into this role. Take command, show Kida she could be the one the Heart had promised. The deliverer of Atlantis’s peace and prosperity.

Taking a deep breath, Helga stepped forward at the same time as the guard who had talked before pulled open one of the doors. Helga threw a quick glance in her direction, delaying the inevitable moment she would lay eyes on Kida, confronted with her mistakes. Unflinching, the guard held fast. Shoulders pulled back, Helga took the first step, entering Kida’s chambers for the second time. Only now it wasn’t with the intention of harming her.

Breeze carrying the scent of salt and wood, Helga longed to be outside, missing the place she normally felt so at home. Though she revelled in the luxuries of the modern world her upbringing had instilled an appreciation for nature and its usefulness in her, she couldn’t shake.

Kida stood at the window at the far end, gazing outside. The door closed shut behind her, its echo the only sound between them. Heartbeat so loud Helga feared Kida would be able to pick it apart in a second, neither said a word. Neither moved. Moments went by, each increasing her nervousness. It wasn’t in her to be nervous, to fidget, but she did wish to now.

“Kida, I have come to apologise,” deciding to take the plunge, Helga stepped forward, hoping not to anger the princess further, undermining her position, “What the Heart told us was news to me as well, and I understand it must feel like another betrayal to you. But I must assure you that my loyalties lay with you, I will put every part of my being in your service and eradicate whatever threat it is that has come to haunt Atlantis.”

“Is that so?”

Unable to read the emotions in her response, Helga stopped, frozen in her spot. Had she said something wrong?

“You are so eager to protect us. Why is that?”

Screaming internally, Helga tried to keep her cool. Did Kida suspect she harboured secret feelings for her? She couldn’t even imagine her fate if she did. Truly at her mercy now, she did not like the loss of control one bit.

Kida turned around; arms crossed. Expression much warmer than Helga had expected, small smile tugging at her lips.

“I do not fault you for what has happened. I realise you had no hand in the actions that transpired.”

Was she dreaming? Helga couldn’t believe the words she was hearing. Kida did not blame her for what the Heart had planned with her. It sounded too good to be true. Moving from her place at the window, Kida came towards her, stopping only once she was within arm’s reach of her. One hand extending, she found Helga's right hand, hesitantly placing her fingers over her knuckles, moving down, entwining them, bringing them up, between them.

“I must apologise. The way I reacted I-“ eyes flitting across the room, unable to settle, they found their way back to the gesture between them, “-It was not appropriate for someone of my standing. You have brought us an important message, and we should listen without prejudice.”

“You can be angry, you deserve to be. What I did was wrong.”

“And I am still unsure of how to feel about your involvement, but for now I have decided that you are a far more valuable ally than enemy.”

Prisoner, more likely. There was no more fight left in Helga against Kida. She would not defy the woman should she choose to punish her for her crimes. It would be just. But as she thought that her eyes lowered to their entwined hands. This was not how one treated their ally. And she would know, had many of them over the time of her career. This? It felt more like friendship than anything she had ever experienced. Maybe even more than friendship. No, those were not thoughts she could entertain. Her only role was to protect Kida.

“Then I am grateful to be of use to you.”

For the first time in that interaction, Kida’s eyes locked onto hers. So piercing in their intensity that Helga felt the need to look away, yet was totally transfixed. One could have rammed a dagger in her back, she wouldn’t have complained.

“You are not merely useful to me- to us. I- You have proven yourself to be a better person than I expected.”

Bitterness on the tongue, Helga replied, “And what did you expect?”

Not rising to the bait, Kida continued, unperturbed, “I expected you to be cold-hearted and callous. But you care. I see it in the way you carry yourself, the way you talk, how each moment you have spent here you try to prove yourself.”

Breathless, Helga felt tears rising dangerously to the surface, on the verge of breaking. How was it that this princess held such power over her? Why did she utter those words, as if Helga wasn’t a monster undeserving of even the lowest hells.

Seeing the way her eyes closed themselves off, Kida lifted her other hand up, cradling Helga's cheek. Without meaning to, she leaned into the touch. Trying to blame the Heart for the sudden movement, Helga knew there was no one at fault but her. Kida’s words had undone her.

“Does it not get exhausting? You must be so tired of fighting. Please, let me help. I can take off those burdens you carry, even if it is just for a moment.”

Sincerity and love hitting her agonisingly deep, Helga sucked in a breath, the move sharp, as tears escaped her iron hold. Swiping one hand against her cheek, Kida wiped at them, eyes soft. She felt like her body was pulled taut, she'd been keeping all of this in for so long, it felt strange to be so close to letting go, now.

“Though I am thankful for your words, I do not think you realise what you are asking me for. These burdens are not yours to carry.”

“You are such a strong fighter; you deserve a moment of respite.”

“I deserve nothing but the harshest judgement,” seeing her flinch at her hard words, Helga sought to soften them, unused to such gentle intimacy, muttering with a downturned head, “I fear who I am without them.”

“You are still you. Only that you would be free.”

She could have laughed. Freedom. Did the princess even know what those words meant? Helga had never been free. There had always been a person, group or cause she had belonged to. Who would she be if she could truly just exist. Not to fight, not to survive, but to explore, experience, indulge herself? The image was beyond her wildest imagination.

“Come, let us rest.”

Eyes never leaving hers, Kida pulled her along, hands staying entwined. Without resisting, Helga followed along, lost in her mind. Softness spread beneath her and as she blinked away the wetness obscuring her view, she realised she was laying on Kida’s bed. Kida lay on her side, turned to her, both hands resting on Helga’s.

“Why?”

Inching a bit closer, Kida searched her face for something, stumped at the question.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you help me? When I first came into your room, you could have easily called the guards. They would have taken me away, and I would be rotting away in your dungeon. You wouldn’t have to deal with me. Surely that must be preferable to this.”

Chuckling, Kida leaned even closer, “Please enlighten me, what do you mean by ‘this’?”

Using the left hand, Helga gestured broadly at herself.

“I see. Well, you are making two assumptions that are plain wrong.”

Not expecting said answer, Helga raised a brow.

“First, we do not have a dungeon. We used to, but it has fallen victim to time and disuse and is now in such a state even rats and snails will not enter it without cause.”

“And what is the other?”

“The second is that,” taking a breath, either to empathise the coming statement or draw out Helga’s anticipation, “You are not an unwelcome problem I have to content myself with. I have found myself quite enjoying your presence if I must say so.”

Stumped at the admission, Helga could do nothing but stare. Had Kida just said that? And what did her words mean, was there a deeper intent in them? Something she hadn’t picked up on. Trying to analyse every facet of what she had said, unable to draw up a conclusion, Helga swallowed.

“So you do not wish for me to leave?”

“Why would I?”

Licking her lips, Helga tried to shrug, but her position made such a move impossible.

“It was the most logical conclusion to make. I must admit I still do not understand why you choose to associate with me.”

“Does it have to be so complicated? I enjoy your presence, is that not enough?”

No. Helga wanted to scream the word at her, make her understand. Because if that was all the reason Kida had for laying on her bed with her, fingers intertwined, then that also meant that there was hope Helga could redeem herself. Could make up for her mistake, show she had value for Kida and maybe even confess her feelings. How could Kida be so blasé about an admission this important?

“Then let me confess that I enjoy your presence as well.”

Face lighting up, something beside happiness and compassion shone in those beautiful, blue eyes of hers. Helga could see them reflect her own eyes back and for the first time since coming back to life she did not hate what she saw. How could she, when they were mirrored in the most captivating woman’s eyes she had ever fallen in love with.

Oh.

Oh.

Love.

She loved Kida. It was a thought all at once so encompassing that she did not catch Kida’s reply, blood rushing so loudly in her ears, heart beating in her throat. Body encased in happiness so profound it left shivers along her spine and arms, alien in its strength, Helga barely choked back a sob. She was in love. In love with Kida.

“Helga?”

Sound of her name interrupting her monumental realisation, Helga gave a short hum, trying to focus on the woman in front of her again.

“I asked if you had eaten yet.”

Eaten? How such a question could be relevant in her situation was beyond her, but Kida was looking at her with such concerned care Helga couldn’t help but rake her brain for the last time she had eaten. Coming up empty, she merely motioned a half shrug, still too breathless to speak. It was as if any and all moisture had been pulled from her body, leaving her tongue heavy, swollen in her mouth. Swallowing again did nothing to alleviate the feeling.

“Nothing? Helga, you have been alive for who knows how long!”

Words seeming far away, barely penetrating past the blood rushing in her ears, Helga strained to listen. Expression laden with concern, Kida sat up, pulling her along. Body pliant, Helga rose up, swaying dangerously forward, nearly knocking into Kida. Maybe she was a bit malnourished. She did not feel hungry however, hadn’t for the past days either, now that she took the time to think about it. Before she could articulate said thoughts, Kida had dragged her towards a little table that hadn’t been in the room before.

Through the haze in her mind, Helga saw that it was drab with a white tablecloth. A vase with pretty flowers posed on one end, the other was covered by all manners of bowls and plates that managed to fit on such small a table. It looked truly ridiculous. There was only one chair which Kida pushed her down on. Despite meaning to protest, Helga couldn’t get the words out. As Kida made to turn, pulling at her hand, a surge of panic shot up Helga’s body, grip on her hand tightening.

The sudden strength had Kida stumble back, casting a confused glance at Helga, who bashfully avoided her gaze. Pulling both eyebrows up, Kida made to talk, but Helga beat her to it.

“I don’t,” unable to end the sentence (and unsure what she would have even said), Helga looked up at her, eyes shining with something delicate.

“I’m not going anywhere. I will grab a stool, and then I will be back,” petting her hand with her free one, adding, as if to reassure, “I promise.”

Still unhappy with the loss of contact Helga pulled back her shoulders, steeling her nerves. Nodding once, hold slacking, Kida pulled her hand free. Sending her a dazzlingly brilliant smile, Kida skipped to the other side of the room, picked up the wooden chair at her desk and carried it over. Instead of placing it on the other side of the table she put it right next to her, sitting down. Their bodies were so close, all Helga had to do was move her leg a little to the right, and it would brush against her. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“Now, what will you be having?”

Following Kida’s gesture, Helga mustered all the strength she had, tearing her gaze away from Kida. The table was stacked with plates and bowls, each filled to the brim with different food. Most she recognised from the banquet the king had held in their name on the first night of their arrival. Many of the foods were similar to what she was used to, a lot of the fruits and many of the meats. There was also bread, the smell deliciously satisfying in its own right. Kida started sampling different fruits, picking a piece of whatever was closest. Another tradition Helga had picked up on was that Atlanteans tended to not use plates the way the people back home did. They picked whatever it was they wanted to eat and did not waste time putting it on a plate. Imitating her lead, Helga picked at the offered fruits, choosing something that vaguely resembled grapes.

Popping two of them into her mouth she was surprised to find they were a lot tougher than she expected. She had to really bite down on them to feel them give way, sweet juices spilling out, filling her. They tasted deliciously sweet. Though hunger hadn’t been on her mind at all the past few days, and it was still nowhere to be found the joy of finally eating overwhelmed her completely. It felt amazing to finally bite into something. Savouring it, Helga felt the need for something more savoury, choosing to pick up a slice of some kind of red meat. Though the texture and aroma suggested it had been cooked it was still as red as a freshly harvested apple.

Dropping all decorum, Helga tucked in, each bite stoking the fire in her belly. She did not notice the bemused expression Kida wore as she watched her eat like a starved madman. They continued to eat in silence and only once the entire table had been cleared of the meal – not a crumb remaining – did Helga look up from her dinner. Kida was still watching her, lips pulled into a smile. Bashful and only now realising her behaviour, Helga coughed into her hand, looking to the side. Manners hadn’t been important in the military, they had simply been too happy to finally have something halfway decent to eat. Dining in the presence of a princess was not on her usual agenda, though it shouldn’t have thrown her so off kilter as it had done now. Controlling her actions had been hard in the past few days, she wondered how long it would take for her to regain some semblance of control again.

“I take it you liked the meal?”

Righting herself, Helga tried to put up a well-adjusted façade, “It was quite satisfactory.”

“Good. I was worried you might not like what we have to offer.”

“Princess, I have eaten much worse. Anything that isn’t dirt and rocks I can stomach.”

Dumbstruck, Kida opened her mouth, as if to respond but couldn’t seem to find whatever it was, she wished to say. Seeing her expression, Helga started laughing, not having expected such a reaction. Realising the words had been a joke, Kida joined in on her laughter, shoulders shaking. One of her legs bumped against Helga’s, the touch sending a jolt through Helga.

“I will have you know that we have the finest sticks and rocks in all the world. You must simply ask for them.”

“I’m sure to remember that if I ever tire of your meals. But for now, I am sated.”

Kida bend herself forward, crossing into her personal space, one hand resting atop her right knee. Sucking in a breath, Helga was torn between retreating and closing the distance further. Would Kida push her away? Or embrace her with open arms?

“I am glad to hear that. Now we must simply do something about that god awful appearance of yours.”

Choking back a laugh, Helga couldn’t keep the grin from her face, “Oh? And what about my appearance displeases you so?”

The purr in her voice was unmistakable. She did not have a lot of intimate experiences, most encounters had started and ended with her flirting. Though it was common for most women deployed in the army to be used for their looks and the simple fact they were women, Rourke had never made her exploit this part of hers. If she had ever flirted, it had been exclusively with women, with resounding success at that. However, most encounters had never led to anything, old wounds still too raw to be touched. A bone sat broken inside her, never having healed right and any attempt to close in on it ended with an abrupt leave from her side and a panic attack. At some point she had simply given up trying to court women, it wasn’t worth the hassle. The reason she was not eager to revisit, keeping it locked up deep inside of her in a place she never dared go.

Even so, flirting with Kida felt so natural, words flowing over her tongue easily, tone measured and deep. It made the fire in her stomach burn brighter with a different hunger.

“You look miserable.”

Throwing her head back, Helga let out a hearty laugh, amused beyond words. This she had not expected. Who would have guessed the princess could banter like that.

“You say that as if you were the pinnacle of beauty.”

She was, Helga couldn’t deny that. No one with eyes could. It made the fire in her simmer down, flames turning into something softer, yearning tugging at her heart.

“If you had a look at me, you would see that I very much am! But enough of the jokes, I do think you could use a change of clothes.”

Appreciating the honesty, Helga thought back to the moment in the hospital wing where she had taken the time to examine her state. She knew she didn’t look good right now and hadn’t even had the chance to glimpse into a mirror. Her face must undoubtedly look like a horror story, dried blood and all.

“You are right, though I do not know from where I would get something else to wear.”

The hand on her knee drifted up a bit further, before Kida withdrew herself, standing abruptly. Helga missed the contact at once.

Walking straight to the closet, Kida opened both doors, took a step back and regarded the contents, one finger pressed against pursed lips. Helga could get used to seeing her like this. Letting out an approving hum, Kida pulled different fabrics from the wardrobe, stacking them, before returning to stand in front of Helga who could not clearly make out the different clothes she was holding.

“They should fit you. But before you change, a bath is in order.”

Unable to comprehend the last comment and its meaning, Helga blinked blankly. Kida was offering her own clothes. To her. The thought did not compute.

“Helga?”

“Yes?”

“I said, we should get you cleaned up.”

Letting out a sound that could have meant anything, Kida held out one hand, shuffling the clothes to the side. Without thinking, Helga reached for it, letting herself get dragged to her feet. Her larger frame towered over Kida in their position. Kida had to crane her neck to look up at her, so close did they stand.

“Come on.”

Not having let go, Kida used her hand to drag Helga to the door, which opened as if the guards had sensed their intent. Short bows were the only greeting they gave before returning to their positions. Kida gave each of them a nod, before she continued to pull Helga along who could do nothing but follow, still to caught up in Kida’s offer to do anything else.

As they descended the stairs, Helga caught a hold of herself, shaking off the stupor she had been in. Kida walked a step in front, head straight.

“Where are we going?”

“Believe it or not, but the room we were just in? It’s not my actual bedroom. When I was younger, I liked to stay up there and paint the view from the windows and at some point, decided it was easier to have a bed installed instead of having to cross half the palace to return to my actual chamber. However, it does have its drawbacks, as there is no washroom attached to it, simply no space. So, we are going to my chamber and draw you a bath.”

Dissecting the words, Helga mulled them over. Hearing that the room wasn’t her actual bedroom did not surprise her in the slightest. It’s emptiness and lack of personal items made sense now. Though she could not deny the appeal such a room had. Though she hadn’t had the chance to enjoy it, the view must be incredible.

They came to the door Helga had passed before, and Kida dropped her hand to open it. As they passed through Helga realised how late it must be, the sky outside in its last moments of sundown. Darkness had swallowed the sun, but this time it did not unnerve her.

The clearing of a throat caught their attention and Helga snapped around, ready to confront whatever it was awaiting them. At the bottom of the stepping stones leading to the throne room stood Gkhewtewtekh; the captain of the guard. Wearing her usual expression of neutral inspection, her eyes assessed them both, caught up in the clothes resting in Kida’s arms. Pulling one eyebrow up, she gestured for the soldiers behind her to go on as she remained standing still.

“Tekh, good to see you. I will be with you all in a moment, I must do something first. Please, fill in the commanders while you wait for me.”

“As you command. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Kida shook her head, eyes fluttering to Helga, before they snapped back, “I will be with you shortly.”

Bowing, Gkhewtewtekh took her leave, but not before sparing one last glance at Helga, carefully worn mask revealing the slightest hint of an emotion Helga couldn’t place.

“Come on, I shouldn’t keep them waiting for long.”

Continuing on their way, Helga caught up with her.

“What was she talking about?”

“I thought you might ask. I still have not briefed the guards on the message you relayed to us. That is what this gathering is for. But I will see your needs tended to first.”

“Kida, if this is about the Heart then I should be there too. It was me after all who talked to the Heart, I can help.”

Coming to a stop Helga nearly knocked her over, Kida looked at her, brows scrunched, lips pursed.

“I know that you think so, and I do not deny that you have valuable input. But I promised you to lighten your burdens if just for a moment. I will manage, and you will take a break.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you cannot allow for such foolish-“

“Are you calling the future queen of Atlantis a fool?”

“Of course not, you know that is not what I meant. But you cannot allow for my expertise to waste away in some bath while your soldiers do the dirty work I was meant for,” frustrated at her stubbornness, Helga clenched her teeth.

Barring her entrance to the meeting on some perceived notion of chivalry was not the way she had anticipated her eventing to go. She did not deserve to relax in a hot bath while something was threatening Atlantis’s safety.

“I understand you feel that way, but it stands to reason that we are safe for now. You have spent the past days surviving Heart knows what, and you are of no use to m- to the kingdom if you exhaust yourself beyond measure. So, you will take a break and once you have gained back your strength, you will join this fight.”

Implication that she was weak had Helga bristle, lips pulled all the way back to her gums. This wasn’t how it usually went. If a mission wasn’t done, she wouldn’t rest.

“Do I have to order you to take a break? Because I will. As the queen.”

Knowing she had been outmatched, Helga turned her head slightly, accepting defeat. There was no way Kida would let her join the meeting in her current condition. Though she was loath to admit it, the thought of a bath did sound nice. It had been too long since she had even seen as much as a shower. Flakes of blood kept falling into her eyes any time she went to card a hand through her hair.

Sensing she had won this argument, Kida closed the distance between them, one hand touching just below her sternum, gently pressure welcome.

“It must be hard for a warrior to wait out a fight, but I promise you we are not done yet. I simply cannot lose you just because you shouldered this burden alone. Tomorrow, we will take the enemy on together. But tonight, you are a guest and will be treated as any other would as well.”

“Do all guests receive a private tour by the princess?”

“Yes,” Kida pulled back with a smile, made to walk, then turned with a twinkle in her eye, “But none have ever bathed in the princess’s own bath.”

Amused, Helga shook her head, before picking up her pace again, joining Kida, who stole a quick glance.

They went on their way, Kida leading them throw hallways that were in a much better state than most of the palace, tapestries decorating the walls, carvings adoring the pillars in between. Few servants past them on their way, most bowing to Kida, throwing uneasy, or curious glances at Helga before hurrying away. The attention had her on edge, despite Kida’s assurance that she was safe.

Not walking for long they reached a small hall split into three corridors. Without giving her time to take in the décor, Kida turned down the right path, Helga hot on her heels. They walked next to each other, shoulders brushing on every other step, though no words passed between them.

Though all she had seen had been quite the marvel, Helga felt far too tired to take in the room they entered. She could make out a chamber, belongings littering every surface, but beyond that everything seemed to meld together. Thoughts slow like thick soup; each step took more energy than she had to give. Kida had been right, she was exhausted. Taking part in the meeting might just have killed her. And how embarrassing a death it would have been.

Swaying a bit with each step, hard time walking straight, Kida must have picked up on her condition, because she looped one arm through hers, tugging her in the right direction. Choosing to follow, Helga let her lead the way, leaning on her for some support.

They entered a different room, a pit in the middle. Taking great care not to topple her over, Kida sat her down on a stool or bank, she did not care. Making contact with the wall behind her, Helga relaxed into the stone, letting her shoulders drop, composure slipping. Sighing, she closed her eyes, thinking to herself she would rest them for only a moment, until Kida would return.

Fingers shook her awake, warm against her cold skin. Blinking slowly, each eyelid weighing a ton, Helga peered through blurry images to see Kida kneeling before her, face cocked to the side, mouth pulled into a straight line, but brows adorably scrunched up. Helga tampered down the impulse to brush over them only a moment after her hand twitched to move.

“Come on, the bath is ready. You can sleep once you don’t smell like death and decay.”

“I don’t,” if she would remember the way her speech had slurred, Helga would scold herself for it in the morning. But right now, she did not care.

Chuckling, Kida propped her up, most of her weight resting on the princess. Together they managed to stand, Helga nearly tumbling back to the floor, only just managing to keep herself upright. Kida huffed under her weight, but did not protest. Feeling the warm body next to her, Helga moved to get even closer, nuzzling her face against Kida’s head.

“You must be immune to it, because your smell could scare Smeroosme into the hills.”

Mind too sluggish to think of a sharp and witty response, Helga simply whined, the sound tugging at Kida’s heart. Taking pity on her, she brushed one hand through her hair, careful to avoid any knots and tangles.

“But you will smell much better once you are done.”

As they drew closer to the bath, Helga could feel the warmth it emitted, pleasant shivers running down her back. The pit – which had been empty before – was filled with water now, that held an uncharacteristic yellow glow, blossoms and leaves swaying on the surface. It evoked the warmth of a sunlit garden. Sweet, earthy aroma of marigold petals intertwined with a subtle herbal undertone.

Without sparing a thought for decency, Helga made to remove the button-up she was wearing (or rather the remaining rags of it), before Kida stopped her, eyes wide.

“I must leave you now; my commanders are waiting for me. Will you be okay alone, or should I have a servant wait on you?”

The thought of being waited on did not sit right with Helga, despite her head telling her having someone here might help her. It did not matter to her to be in company naked. Many of her fellow soldiers had seen her in various stages of undressed, little privacy in the field did that to you. But it was different now. Her body was not what it used to be and imagining a random servant seeing her like this was nearly enough to have her throw up the dinner she had just enjoyed.

Shaking her head, she avoided all eye contact with Kida, who seemed to have anticipated the answer, despite not liking it.

Nodding to herself, she pointed to a spot next to the filled bathtub. Helga followed the gesture and saw the clothes Kida had picked out before laying in a neat stack. Next to them several towels that must feel incredibly soft hung atop a wooden contraption.

“You can dry yourself off with these, and I picked up those clothes for you. They might not fill well, but I could not find anything better on such short notice. Over there,” at that she gestured right next to the bath, “Are several salves, oils and salts. Feel free to use as much and as many as you need. I will be back soon. Is that okay?”

Helga tried to keep all the information in her head: Clothes? Check. Towels? Check. Lotions? Check. Turning to Kida, she gave her what she hoped was a nice enough smile and nodded, “I will be okay. Thank you.”

Hesitating, Kida angled her body to the door, before deciding against it, closing the distance between them, enveloping Helga in a hug. Instinctively, Helga's arms wrapped around her, and she marvelled at how good she had become when it came to hugs. Going years without them, all it took was a princess to remind her how much she craved the contact. Pulling back all too soon, their gazes lingered on each other, before Kida did turn around and walked to the door.

Nearly out of sight, she turned again, throwing a small smile Helga’s way, “Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, yes?”

All Helga managed was a laugh, which seemed to satisfy Kida all the same. She gave her one last, long look, then she disappeared behind the door, closing it behind her. Letting out a tired sigh, Helga pulled at the buttons on the shirt. Fingers clumsy due to her condition, she failed repeatedly to free herself from the garment. Deciding enough was enough she dug her fingers in, before ripping the fabric off. There wasn’t much left of it and what had still clung on could not be called a shirt in good conscience. Without looking, she dropped it to the ground, working on removing first her boots, then her pants and undergarments. Finally done, she stepped into the bath. Little steps led into it.

Protrusions had been carved into the stone, Helga took a seat on one, stretching her legs, body fully submerged. Tiny nagging at the back of her mind told her to get out, that this was all too familiar, but she banished the feeling, choosing to enjoy this moment of temporary peace. Letting her head fall back against the stone rim, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. The water was warm, smell a pleasant distraction from her own musk. Without realising (and even if she had, she wouldn’t have put up a fight) she drifted off to sleep.

*

“How can we counter an attack if we don’t know where to expect for them to strike?”

“Princess, with all due respect, what if that outsider lied? We cannot be sure she told the truth; it is in their nature to lie.”

“Excuse me?”

“How dare you doubt her words! Did you not listen when she told us about the Heart!”

“We should concern ourselves with rebuilding our city and not some imaginary threats.”

“Can we please return to the fact that you think all we do is lie?”

“What more do you want me to say?”

“How dare you-“

“Petty insults are not what we came here for. What about the attack, do you know anything else?

“I do not see the sense in this conversation. Our strength would be much better suited to doing something.”

“As expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“You are still young and lack the important experience we possess.”

“What about them? They are outsiders too, yet they are permitted to sit in on this gathering!”

Massaging her temples with her fingers, Kida suppressed a growl. The gathering had been meant to instruct her commanders further on the threat coming for Atlantis, but before she had so much as got a whole sentence out they had clamoured over themselves to argue for or against taking action. She had grown tired of their squabbling by now, thoughts turned to Helga and the bath she was taking right now. How she longed to join her and escape this wretched argument. It reminded her of her father, pettily snarking back and forth.

Tekh stood at her side, shoulders tensed. Normally, the woman took her duty as captain seriously and would have intervened by now, but all her attention was pinned on Kida. The princess ducked her head away, though she was used to her friends intense gaze it did not ease the headache splitting her open at this moment. A hand on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Tekh had turned to face her, head lowered to her height. Though she longed to be free of this place, Kida nodded and turned her eyes to the scene unfolding in front of her. Her commanders were arguing among each other. She had invited the crew around Milo to join as well, had hoped they might hold some information on what this threat might be. The decision proved to be a mistake as Audrey was spitting sentences in rapid Spanish at a man nearly twice her size. Sweet stood behind her, trying and failing to hold her back.

Burrowing her head in her hands, Kida groaned again. Though the display was uncalled-for for someone in her position it was all she could do. How had her father ever managed to keep them in check? She was not queen yet and already tired of looking after her soldiers like they were children fighting over toys. Lives were at stake.

“Are you sure? I can send them away.”

No one paid them any mind as Tekh shuffled even closer.

“By the Heart that is all that I want right now. But we have strategies to plan, I can’t leave now. It is my responsibility to take care of this mess.”

Though her brows were pulled down, and her eyes narrowed, Tekh nodded, before slapping one hand down on the stone table before them. The echoing thud cracked against Kida’s head, throbbing intensifying behind her eyes. All heads turned to them, skin flushed, shoulders tensed.

“Princess, please forgive us for this embarrassing display.”

“Yes. I apologize on our behalf. This is not the first impression we wanted to leave on the future queen.”

Wishing they would drop the title she’d soon take on; Kida made a discarding motion with her hand. Fighting to ignore the light shining around them, she stepped to the table, bending over a bit, arms carrying her weight.

“These are trying times for all of us, I am aware of that. It is precisely for that reason I urge you to exercise caution in both speech and action. We cannot allow to get sloppy and let this threat catch us unprepared, or worse, divided.”

“Wise words, princess. We will be better off heeding them,” at the words, the woman who had spoken sent a meaningful glance into the round.

Murmurs of agreement followed, most commanders inclining their head. At her side, Tekh righted herself with pride, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Now, I have already filled you in on what happened before. As your captain already told you, Threhuihnthoash, daughter of the last dreamer Uhthuhlkhlootoa, was invited to talk to the Heart together with Helga, one of the outsiders. The Heart revealed that we are not yet safe, and that Helga is the piece we need to defeat the coming threat.”

Low grumbling rose in the ranks, displeasing her.

“I know this message is not what we had hoped for, and I understand your confusion. I also did not understand why she had been chosen instead of one of us,” Though she suspected the reason now, “But we must take this message for what it is. A warning and an advantage. Whatever threat is coming, it thinks it will catch us blind sided, but we will be well-prepared.”

“And how do you plan to achieve that?”

Though the words felt like they were meant to draw her out, as Kida looked at the man who had spoken them, she saw his eyes held no malice.

“We will have our soldiers patrol the surrounding lands. They should be grateful to finally be of use.”

Though Atlantis had been an empire spanning half the globe before, it had forfeited most of its land and possessions when their hubris had offended the Heart. After they had been driven back to the centre of their kingdom, they had had no use for their massive army. Most soldiers had laid down their weapons and taken up shovels, needles, brushes instead. Few of the original hundreds of commanders had remained in their posts, most resigning once their soldiers did. There simply had been no use for an army when there was nothing left to conquer. Not many soldiers remained as the work was rather frowned upon. There were better ways to contribute than to aimlessly patrol the streets and woods. Her father had been unable to break tradition and kept the army alive, despite its uselessness. It did however come in handy now and Kida thanked the stubbornness of her father. At least one of his decisions had paid off.

“Anything suspicious is to be reported immediately. No matter how small it may seem.”

“If you command it, it shall be done.”

Their readiness to accept her commands so quickly lifted a weight off her shoulders. She was thankful Tekh had taken it upon herself to relay most of what had happened with Thoash and Helga before her arrival otherwise she would have collapsed from the work she was sure of it.

Ready to implement her orders, the commanders shuffled in their places, throwing glances at the door. Reading their eagerness to leave, Kida could not agree more. She dismissed them with a court goodbye and waited with bated breath as they left, one after one. They bowed on their way out and wished her a good night. Kida hoped they would be right; all she craved was the sweet promise of sleep. Her bed was calling to her. And maybe she wouldn’t have to sleep alone for the first time in a long time. Blocking the thought as soon it took form, she turned to leave as well, before a small woman jumped in front of her. It was Audrey, followed by Sweet.

Though she was usually happy to see them it took everything in her not to visibly wilt at their side. Was it too much to ask for her to be left alone?

“Kida, is it true that Helga is here?”

Right, she had not had the time yet to actually fill them in on Helga. After spending so much time with her, they must be bursting with curiosity when it came to their former second-in-command.

“Yes, she is. She found her way inside the palace two days ago and will be staying until we find a way to turn her back into a human.”

“So, she really did turn into a crystal thing like you?” wincing at the words, Audrey noticed her faux-pax, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as insensitive. I’m still getting used to all this, y’know?”

Gesturing to the throne room around them, Kida nodded, understanding.

“She came to me and told me how she had woken up in a cave, alone and turned to stone. With the help of Threhuihnthoash they were able to talk to the Heart. They figured out why she was here. And now we are trying to prevent whatever threat is coming from striking first.”

“Helga is the key to it all,” Sweet joined their little circle, arms crossed,

Craning her neck to look at his face, nodding, Kida continued, “She is. My commanders do not like the idea, and I empathize. But spending time with Helga has made me realise she is not the heartless monster I thought her to be. I trust the judgement of the Heart.”

“Wow, that’s a lot to consider. Honestly, I’m kinda glad she’s still alive. She tried to kill us, but she didn’t strike me as a bad person. At least not as bad as Rourke, that man was a fucker.”

One hand knocking against Audreys shoulder, Sweet cleared his throat.

“I knew her for a long time. When she kept to Rourke instead of choosing the right path, I felt sad for her. We used to get along well, she was everything one could want in a leader. Efficient, precise and compassionate. She listened when I told her of my family,” shaking his head, one hand moving to the spot she knew he kept his necklace, he smiled, “I only wish things hadn’t turned out the way they did. Though I do agree Rourke was behind it all we cannot absolve her of her guilt. I think there was no way it could have gone any differently. He held her in his palm as much as he did any of us.”

“What do you mean,” interest piqued, Kida’s brows furrowed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Scratching his neck as if uncomfortable, he took a step back, “It’s only that everyone knows she was closest to him. I don’t know everything, but it was rumoured he had trained her since she was a child. Guess that’s what being taken care of by a psychopath does to you.”

Tekh must have sensed her tiredness, as she subtly stepped between the two, looking down at the much shorter Audrey.

“We appreciate your curiosity, but the princess still has much work to do before the day is done. I ask you to let us leave so that we may follow our duty, as I am sure you intend too as well.”

Seldom Kida had heard her friend sound so diplomatic, it was not like her. Tekh was much more curt than that, barely answered in more than one or two words. This approach was wholly alien to her. Had everyone around her changed while she had stayed the same? The thought scared her, so she pushed it back. At the mention of yet more work, Kida let out the tiniest grown, shoulders slumping. The display must have convinced Audrey, who immediately backed off, returning to Sweets side. The doctor threw her a smile exposing his pearly white teeth, while Tekh started walking. Wasting no time, Kida followed her, contemplating Sweet’s words. What did he mean by that? She did not know Helga had been raised and trained by Rourke. Did it change anything? She was not sure, trying to wrap her head around it.

As they passed through the cover of the throne room, she let out an audible sigh. Tekh threw her a bemused smile, dimples showing.

They came to a stop near the bottom of the stairs. Before Kida could ask what their next task would be, Tekh’s gaze grew serious. She moved closer, inspecting her body, brows furrowed.

“Are you alright?”

Unsure why she was asking, Kida cocked her head, “Yes, though I have to admit I am quite tired. What were the tasks you mentioned? I was under the impression this gathering would be the last piece of work this evening.”

“I grew worried,” confusing her further, Kida tried to make sense of the words. Why was she avoiding her question?

“What do you mean?”

It lasted only for a moment, but Tekh’s eyes flickered to something behind Kida, before settling on her again. Tense, she rolled her shoulders, before answering.

“When you left with the outsider. I know what I said before, but I could not help myself. When you took your time with returning, I worried she might have done something.”

Warmth spreading in her chest, Kida took a moment to process her friends’ words. They did not surprise her. Tekh had always worried about her, there had not been a time she did not. Perhaps it should have alarmed her, but Kida felt like laughing at the notion of Helga hurting her. Though the woman had tried to not too long ago it felt like a distant memory now. Mental image of Helga nuzzling into her hair recent in her mind, Kida thought it was almost comical how her predicament had turned out.

“You thought she would hurt me?”

“I can not look inside her head. All I know is that since she has been here you have behaved differently, and I do not know what to make of it yet.”

“While I appreciate the concern you need not worry about me. Helga would not dare lay a finger on me, rest assured.”

“How?”

Brows pulled together; Kida studied Tekhs expression. Her tightly drawn brows, the squinted eyes, lips pressed together. Feeling herself at once reminded of the fact that Tekh was not a simple woman but the most powerful solider in all the kingdom and would cross even the Heart if she so much pointed her in its direction, Kida swallowed. Sometimes she forgot she had people in her life who cared for her. It was easy to forget with her father, their relationship had been less than ideal. But Tekh was someone she had known forever.

Mistaking her thinking for hesitance or a similar emotion, Tekh asked again, “How can you be sure? She tried to steal you once, who is to say she will not attempt it again?”

Memories of her time as part of the Heart did not come easy to her as if they had been locked in some part of her mind. Witnessing Helga had convinced her it was for the best. No spirit was made for such things, it would have pulled her apart too. Talking about it now, Kida barely recalled more than the prayer she had spoken in the cavern under the watchful gaze of the Heart itself.

“Because I know her. And I know she does not have it in her to hurt me again. She would die before that.”

It might be presumptive of her, claiming to know Helga. After all she barely knew anything about the woman. Heart throbbing at the realisation, Kida tried to tamper the disappointment coursing through her. Maybe she should use the chance and get to know her better.

Though her expression did not change, Tekh withdrew herself, straightening her shoulders.

“If you are sure. I will be only a call away though, as always.”

“Thank you.”

“And you do not need to be concerned over your work, I lied.”

“Huh?”

“It is late already, you deserve to sleep. I made up more work to get you out of a conversation you did not seem keen on carrying.”

Baffled, all Kida could do was stare. Tekh had lied for her? A laugh burst from her; notion so ridiculous it amused her to her core. As is agreeing with the absurdity, Tekh joined her in laughter. Both stood there, shaking for a few more seconds, before Kida caught her breath again, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You lied about work to let me go to bed? My, Tekh, what would the commanders think of their captain if they heard about that?”

“Easy, they won’t. I have too many interesting stories to tell, for you to go around, tarnishing my reputation.”

Taken aback by the brazen teasing, Kida slapped her shoulder, letting out a mock gasp, “You wouldn’t dare! What happened between us, stays between us!”

“I am glad we agree.”

“Good.”

“Just know that if I ever hear rumours about me everyone will learn who really broke the altar before kritapar.”

“No!”

Mortified, Kida remembered how embarrassed she had been to have broken the carefully constructed altar only a day before the biggest celebration in the year. Her father had been furious, but since Tekh had been the only one around at the time no one was able to pin the deed on her.

“Do not test me, Kida,” smirking, Tekh started walking, throwing a hand up as she went, “Until tomorrow.”

Feeling much lighter than before, Kida turned to where her chamber lay. Though at first, she went to climb the stairs to the tower, her hand hesitated at the door. Then, she remembered. Helga was waiting in her bathroom for her to return.

Turning with much more energy than was befitting such a late hour, Kida changed course, heading for her old bedroom, thoughts of the blue skinned woman filling her mind.

*

Blinking sleep from her eyes, Helga awoke to the gentle swaying of water around her. Straightening her back, she sat upright in the bath, taking in the scene. Having barely realised that she was slipping off to sleep, the turn of events did not surprise her. Body exhausted beyond human measure it would have taken a miracle to stay awake.

Though it had been yellow when she stepped in, the water had turned a lighter brown around her, caused by thin streaks of mud and blood. Helga wondered how Kida had managed to get the water inside the bath, hadn’t paid enough attention before. Could she do the same?

Looking around, Helga saw she was still alone. The water was as warm as when she first entered it, not much time could have passed. Disappointment tugged in her chest; Kida hadn’t returned yet. Shaking her head, Helga decided to get on with the bath, not keen on wasting the opportunity.

Turning to the side, a variety of pots and glasses awaited her, eager to be used. Though they were closed she could smell them, nonetheless. Some were labelled, others blank. Deciding to pick up a brown jar, she read ‘honeyed caramel’. The fragrance was sweet, almost cloying and powdery. Setting it down for now she inspected further.

Though she was used to harsh conditions, both socially as well as in a survival sense, Helga had enjoyed a few luxuries in her time as Whitmore's’ assistant. Regular showers and all the body wash in the worlds included. Most of what she saw here resembled what she already knew. There were a lot of salts, she knew from first-hand experience how satisfying a good salt scrub could be though she doubted it worked the same for this new body. Thinking about it dismayed her, so she picked at another bottle to distract herself. Smelling distinctively spicy, she put it away. There was no way that would come anywhere near her body.

Preferring gourmand fragrances over others, her hand itched towards a jar containing an ochre paste. Having caught the scent for only a second it immediately drew her in, something about it familiar, like a walk through the woods, or sitting around a campfire. The label simply stated ‘oud’ and Helga couldn’t believe her luck. Finding such an exotic substance here of all places had her emotional, a little part of home. Before she used the paste, she took a moment and scrubbed down her body with her bare hands, ridding herself of the worst of her stains. Standing up, fingers dipping in, she distributed the paste evenly along her body, starting on her face before she moved down, taking time to carefully wash each limb. Once she was done, she submerged herself in the water, waiting for the paste to wash off.

The last time she had been underwater it had been her life on the line. Now she was bathing in the royal palace, still alive. How times changed. Breaking the surface, she took a shuddering breath, different aromas filling her nose. Reaching for a different bottle, she shook it out, slathering her hair with the content. Carding through it felt impossible, each move tugging painfully. Looking around she saw now brush to help with the task. Doing her best with just her fingers, she decided to relent for now, having freed most of her strands from their knots.

After taking advantage of the different substances for a bit longer, Helga decided it was time to leave the bath behind. Kida wasn’t here yet; she would just have to find another thing to pass the time with.

Not bothering with the stairs, she hoisting herself out instead. Once she stood on solid ground again, she grabbed one of the towels, marvelling at its softness. Yellow fabric soft against her body, she dried herself off, water droplets clinging to her hair and eyelashes. Once done, the set of clothes beckoned her over.

Picking up whatever it was that awaited her, Helga let out a low whistle. Kida had not disappointed her. Though the outfit looked much less flashy and exposing than what the princess had worn before, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

Searching, she found a pair of undergarments under the shirt, pulling them on. Though she did not know the correct way to secure the outfit Kida must have foreseen this and chosen something easy to wear. Following her instincts, Helga pulled on the pants first. Airy fabric hung loose around her body. It was big on her, must have been gigantic on Kida. Threatening to slip at the hips, she slipped the shirt on quickly, before stuffing the end in the pants and securing it all with a long strip of fabric, tying the knot on the right side, the way she had seen the civilians wear them. A mirror beckoned her over, following the call she had a look at herself.

The top was a slightly faded yellow and felt soft against her skin, tight around the neck but free the further it fell down. The pants were of a deep red and felt magnificent to wear. Taking care to adjust a few places, feeling satisfied with the result, she sent a cocky grin at her image, finally free of blood. The Helga looking back at her was nothing like the one she had nearly killed herself over back at the river. Thinking about it now it seemed to her an entire lifetime had passed.

Rejuvenated, Helga went towards the door, leaving the bath behind. Welcoming her, the room on the other side opened its arms to her.

Two windows sat in the wall in front of her and to the right. Walls covered in different ornaments; Helga didn’t know what to admire first. Colours fought for her attention on every side. A wardrobe double the size of the other one took up an entire wall. Knick knacks and various trinkets lay strewn across the ground. Years of iron discipline drilled into her by the military and Rourke had fostered an aversion in her to any messes. If it could be kept clean, it should be. Seeing the unapologetic untidiness had her stomach contract in both anxiety and admiration. She had not expected for the princes to lack such a vital skill as cleanliness, yet any thought of it stemmed not from a personal condemnation, but rather from a personal fear. Expecting a drill sergeant to burst into the room and berate her for the mess, humiliating burning in her cheeks, Helga knew the notion was absurd, but couldn’t shake it off. That is what years, years, years of spending in the military did to you.

Before she had a chance to spiral further, steps caught her attention, familiar cadence taking priority above all else. Looking at the door, she knew who would step inside before she had even opened it.

As she moved inside, Kida’s eyes caught hers, a grin breaking the thoughtful look on her face.

“How are you?”

Smiling at the genuine interest in her voice, Helga felt her heart flutter. Chastising herself for reacting that way to the concern of a friend, she gave a simple shrug.

“The bath felt good.”

“I am glad to hear that,” as though to tease her, she let her eyes rove up and down Helga’s form, eyes glinting, “You look much better.”

“You don’t,” Helga shot back, only meaning it a little bit.

Kida always looked gorgeous, but there was a tiredness in her now, could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, her eyes were sunken in, and she carried her head a little less proudly than usual. Despite signs of exhaustion taking her over, Helga could not help admiring her. Eyes catching onto a prominent adams apple, images of what it would be like to drag her tongue along it came to her unbidden. Shaking herself free off the sin, Helga refocused on her face.

“Thanks, charmer. That was just what I wanted to hear.”

“I’m all for total honesty.”

“Trust me, I noticed that,” Kida muttered, making her way over.

Holding her breath, Helga felt a mild tang of disappointment as Kida walked right past her, plopping herself on a wooden chair next to a big table. Following her, Helga sat down on the opposite side. Drinking in the view, she did not hear the question Kida asked her. Only once she had repeated herself a second time did she throw off her stupor.

“What?”

“I was wondering about you.”

“What were you wondering about?”

“I realised I do not know a lot about you.”

Raising a brow, Helga felt sceptical. What use was there for Kida to gain a sudden interest in her?

“And now you wish to remedy that.”

“Indeed. If you do not mind, that is.”

Mulling it over, Helga felt torn. On one hand she did not understand the sudden interest from Kida’s side. There was no use in learning more about her than what would be necessary to complete the mission. On the other hand, the sudden attention had her preening. It had been too long since someone had shown genuine interest in her, and she had returned the sentiment, thoughts of imminent death far from her mind. Deciding to indulge Kida, Helga shrugged. What was the worst that could happen?

“What do you want to know?”

Kida sat silent as if surprised Helga had agreed to her nosing around. Brows drawn tight, lip pulled between teeth (God how Helga wished she could do it instead), Kida’s eyes swept over the room, before settling on her again, burning with an intensity she was not used to.

“You mentioned your family before. Tell me more about them.”

Chuckling, Helga thought of what to say. Keep it simple and concise, or should she share a longer tale?

“What were their names again? I only remember Alfie, his name sounds so fun.”

“Fun? I guess you could say that,” talking about her brother had always been easy for Helga, as they were a source of pride for her, “Wilhelm used to be the oldest. Then came Friedrich, Johann, Alfie and lastly Alexander. Alex loves movies about the stars. He said that one day he'd fly to one and bring it home to us. It’s actually where he got this thing of counting down to everything using 't minus' from. Anywhere he went he would use it. I guess the habit rubbed off on me.”

“Wilhelm, he-,” instead of continuing, Kida tapped a finger against the wooden table, “-Do you mind me asking what happened to him?”

Kida was set on avoiding her gaze, something Helga disliked. It pained her only marginally to talk about it now, but she always preferred to look people in their eyes when she told them her brother was dead.

“He died.”

Kida moved her right hand to her crystal, kissing the stone, before pressing the same hand where her heart beat.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. It happened a long time ago, and I am over it by now.”

Though some might consider it crude, Helga appreciated Kida’s straightforwardness, not shying away from an uncomfortable topic.

“How did he die?”

“That is a tale easily told. My father was a military man, and as such we as his family felt obligated to follow him. It’s why we moved around so much. One day the base we were stationed at reported a fuel shortage. Though he wasn’t much older than fourteen, Wilhelm decided he wanted to join the soldiers sent to retrieve oil.”

A short squinting of Kida’s eyes told her she did not know what she was talking about.

“Oil is a fuel we use to keep our machinery running, the same way you use the Heart.”

Nodding along, Helga continued her tale, “Though they laughed at him, the soldiers took him up on his offer. They left base, set on returning in just a few short hours. As the time ticked by my mother grew concerned, though father told her to calm down.”

It had been a long time ago; she had been a different person then. Small, scared, spiteful. Always punching, screaming, too angry at the world to consider it might be angered by her in turn. But this story wasn't about her.

“The ground shook, then this deep boom sounded out. I thought we were under attack and in the distance, I could see smoke columns the size of skyscrapers rise into the sky, blackening out the sun.”

“Skyscrapers?”

“They are like houses, only much taller. Picture the room in your tower, only an entire building constructed like it.”

Nose crinkling, Kida leaned back in her chair, “I do not much like that image.”

Shaking her head, Helga carded one hand through her hair, “Me neither. Johann called them a miracle of modern architecture. I was never one for miracles.”

Chuckling at the comment, Kida let her eyes sweep over the room again.

“As I watched the smoke, I knew something was wrong, felt it in my bones. My mother and brothers did too, they were holding each other, Alfie was crying hysterically. They sent out soldiers to investigate. All they brought back were the dog tags of one soldier. The rest couldn’t be recovered, they said. Burned to a crisp,” this part had always been the hardest.

The solider had broken the news to their father first, but mother had heard them too, breaking into sobs as he left the front porch. Helga had never seen someone cry as much as she did in the following days. It seemed everything had stopped around her. Her brother wasn’t there any more, but she knew he would walk through the door at any moment, handsome smile on his face, blonde hair slightly ruffled. He never did. In the following weeks her knuckles had bled more than ever before, each muscle spasming from exertion, bones aching so deep they ground her into dust. It was the only way she knew to cope with it.

A hand on her shoulder startled her, tiny gasp leaving her. Kida stood before her, eyes shining with unshed tears. Before she could protest, arms wrapped around her, pulling tight. Breathless, Helga didn’t know how to react. Burying her face deep in Kida’s neck, she shut out everything else. That time had passed. She was different now. It shouldn’t affect her the way it did. How pathetic of her, so strong a warrior, yet so feeble of mind. She hated herself. An itch started crawling down her arms, spreading through her fingers, making a home in her knuckles. It was the same that had driven her to destruction in her youth, made her fling herself in a river, made her wish she had died in a cold, empty cave, a traitor and monster; unloved, undeserving of compassion.

“I have you.”

Soft words whispered in her neck, so delicate in their cadence, yet strong in their meaning, they tore through those thoughts, leaving her alone and naked in the eye of grief. No, not grief. Love. Shivering, Helga pulled Kida closer, the woman letting herself get dragged on her lap, pressing against her, never wanting to let go.

*

Maybe asking her had been a mistake. Kida had been contemplating how best get Helga to open up on her way to her room. Having braced for all kinds of reactions, this was not what she had expected. Thinking back on all their interactions, it did not seem unusual, she had to admit to herself with no small part of sympathy. Helga had been unnaturally vulnerable with her. Sure, they had traded a bit of banter, but there was an underlying softness to everything Helga said that Kida could not ignore.

Holding the trembling woman in her arms now, she cursed herself for letting her dredge up such a painful memory. She should have known better than that.

“I have you.”

Not knowing where the words came from, wishing to take them back for only a moment, a gasp left Helga, wetness smearing against Kida’s neck. Brushing one hand against her back, the other drew gentle circles over one shoulder, strong muscle underneath rippling with each shuddering breath.

“It is okay, I am here.”

Whispering sweet nothing's, the woman in her arms calmed, each moment a piece of her returning, until she finally sat upright, pulling her face from her neck. Eyes red, wetness smeared around her cheeks, Helga looked beautiful. Kida stared. She was aware she was staring, but she could not help herself. Wide eyes, puffy, slightly parted lips drew her in. Like a magnetic pull, Kida felt herself leaning forward, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Gaze flickering between lips and eyes, Kida saw Helga do the same, drawing in a shuddering breath, entire body quacking under the pressure. Kida’s heart beat so fast she was sure Helga could hear it in the silence of the room. Not even a breeze could have fit between the two, Helga’s lips so close she could imagine the taste already.

Like a bucket of ice water, a realisation swept over her, leaving her nerves frayed and bones chilled. What was she doing? Helga had just told her of the death of her brother and here she was, attempting to kiss her while she was clearly vulnerable and in need of comfort? Disgusted with herself, she pulled back, stumbling off her lap.

Catching only a short glimpse of Helga’s expression, eyes open wide in horror, lips still pursed, she kept her face turned away, not ready to confront the hurt she inflicted. How cruel of her.

Everything was silent as she righted herself, trying to calm her racing heart and get her breathing under control. No matter how long she tried, her body did not obey her, skin flushed red. Wiping sweat from her brow with one arm, she let out a faltering sigh, worried over breaking the moment further with every sound she made.

“Kida?”

Helga sounded so different to her, or was it just the blood rushing in her ear? Small, but sure at the same time, in control but far from her body at the same time.

“I think I am tired. I would like to go to sleep.”

“Oh right yes,” stumbling over her words and feet, Kida turned to the table, pointedly avoiding any eye contact, “You can sleep here, I will return to my other room. Not that I don’t want to sleep with you, I do- not, not in that way, I only meant I think it would be good for you to have your privacy. You still have not had a good nights sleep, and I would not like to intrude-“ before she could embarrass herself further, strong hands grabbed her wrists, pulling them free from where she was wringing them around each other.

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

Looking up, Kida felt herself left speechless as she gazed at the sharp curve of Helga’s jaw, lips pulled into a straight line, eyes frowning. Oh, by the Heart, she had really fucked this up, had she not? Why was she unable to control her urges when it counted? Being impulsive like her truly was a curse.

Tugging her hands free, Helga did not offer any resistance. Walking faster than was decent, Kida reached the door before she had time to take another breath, blabber anything that would only further do her in. As her hand came to meet the doorknob, Tekh’s words repeated in her mind.

Maybe it is not revenge that you seek.

How right she had been, though even Tekh could not have predicted how far her feelings had developed. This unforeseen event would prove troublesome in the future, Kida was sure of it. But that the same time she did not wish for the feelings to dissipate.

“I didn’t finish telling you about my brothers.”

Stupid, entirely stupid was what the words were. And like a fool, Kida grabbed unto them like a lifeline. Helga did not want her to leave. She did not want to go. A compromise could be found.

“There is still tomorrow,” they were an offer.

Let me leave and this will not turn out worse than it already did. But Kida knew a losing fight when she saw one. Admittedly, that was a lie, she never knew when to quit, it had been one of her quirks her father had hated above all else. She understood why. She should leave, let Helga sleep and bury herself in her pillows and scream.

Instead, she waited, bated breath. Hoped for Helga to refuse, to not let her go. And the woman answered.

“There is also tonight.”

Turning around before her head made the decision for her, she made her way towards Helga. Face lighting up, Kida could not help but feel she had chosen right. If making Helga happy left her feeling this happy each time as well, she wanted to do it again, again, again.

“Tell me more, then. I am eager to learn.”

Kida went past Helga, who stood rooted to the spot, eyes never leaving her. As she passed her by, Helga’s scent caught her notice. She had smelled it before, but only now that she was without distraction did she take note of it. Smelling of woods at night, roads hidden from view by years of disuse, it conjured pictures in her mind she had not thought of for a long time. An idea formed. She would share it with Helga tomorrow. For now, she would relish what she had.

Reaching a vanity, rummaging through it, she motioned for Helga to speak, inclining her head.

“For a long time, it was just my mother, father and me. I was born in Germany and grew up there as well. We moved around a lot, never in one place for long. After a year or two we would pack our backs and move on.”

As Helga finished the sentence, Kida snapped up straight, holding up a brush, triumphant exhale leaving her. Helga pulled one of her brows up, crossing her arms.

Realising she must look like a woman gone mad, she motioned for Helga to take a seat on the bed. Less a bed, it was more an amalgamation of blankets, pillows and comforters on the ground. Beds were an uncommon commodity in the palace, as those who could afford to would have a section of the floor reworked, placing soft furs and other materials down that made lying down a marvellous experience. Her bed was no different. Her fondness for pillows only exaggerated the already usual tradition of keeping them and blankets for use. Her bed was buried beneath layers of fabric not even Molière could penetrate.

Helga seemed unconvinced, but Kida did not budge. Taking matters into her own hands, grabbing one of her sleeves, she dragged Helga to their destination, before giving her a soft push. As her hand came into contact with Helga’s stomach, she felt muscle underneath contract, at once tense. If Helga did not want to, there was no way she could have moved her, the woman solid as rock. Giggling at the thought, Kida flushed even more red than she already was. Helga let herself be pushed down, sinking into the plush pillows. Climbing behind her, Kida took up residence at her back, one hand reaching out to touch the hair in front of her.

Head whipping around fast enough Kida felt whiplash, Helga narrowed her eyes at her, parting her lips as if to speak. Not giving her a chance, Kida went first.

“Let me do this for you,” then, shyer, “please.”

Jaw tensing, teeth grinding, Helga’s face circled through a variety of emotions, before she settled, for a tight-lipped smile, head inclined.

“Alright.”

Taking the win, Kida picked up the brush again. Helga turned her face back, rolling her shoulders, working out the tension.

“Continue with your story, please.”

Clearing her throat, Helga picked up where she had left off, as Kida let one hand glide over her hair.

“Each time we changed base, I went to a different school, with different children. I never thought much about it. After all, we were all army brats, we didn’t know a different life. All of us had moved around the world, we were used to seeing friends come and go. Nothing stayed forever.”

The thought was wholly foreign to such an extent she could not even begin to picture what such a life must be like. Everything had always been permanent here. Her mother was the only thing in her life that had changed. She knew there was a time before she died, it was simply hard to remember. Not because of grief, but because she had been young. Only fragments remained of that time. Not enough to piece together the full picture.

“We all got along great. There wasn’t any time not to, because each of us could be gone the next day. I went to school there with the other children. Boys and girls were raised the same, and it was the most wonderful thing.”

It was a curious thing that Helga spoke of. Milo had explained only a little about the gender of their world. He had implied they were strict rules everyone adhered to, lest they fall victim to discrimination and hate. It was another thing that differentiated Atlantis from them. The only time she gave gender a thought was when it came to the people she wanted to bed, though that did not happen often. Apart from that she could not remember the last time she had considered it.

Helga’s hair was soft beneath her fingers. She had sectioned it in three parts, worked through the first now. Passing through the brush easily, it did not give her much trouble. Enjoying the closeness, she wished to never stop.

“I enjoyed it greatly. We would study in the morning and play all day until sundown. Only once we turned fourteen did they separate us. We still studied the same subjects, but the teachers thought that mixed proximity would make us act on impure thoughts.”

Feeling her flush return, she prayed Helga did not notice the way her hands faltered slightly. Moving on to the second partition, she put the brush to good use, focusing on a tight knot at the bottom of her hair.

“Maybe they were right. All the girls hated being separated. I did too. But it was different for me. They seemed sad to miss out on the boys, I was simply sad to lose my play companions. But life went on.”

“You sound fond of those memories.”

“I am. Wilhelm came into the picture around the time we were stationed in Mannheim. I remember how I hated him the first time my parents brought him home. He was crying and screaming, I hated it. I even asked my mother if we could return him and get another babe,” chuckling along, Kida continued to brush, the rhythmic motion soothing, “He was my fathers’ pride and joy. He didn’t put him down for a week, all the soldiers called him a mother goose.”

“What is that?”

“A goose? The simple answer is that they are a blight on society.”

“Truly? They cannot be that bad! Why would they compare your father to such beasts,” scandalised, Kida forgot all about the task at hand.

A deep rumble formed in Helga’s chest, spilling out in a laugh. Glad she hadn’t offended her; Kida returned her attention to the hair.

“They are not, I promise,” and so quiet she had not caught it if she hadn’t sat so close to her, “Though if you knew him you would not frown upon the comparison.”

Unsure how to approach the remark, Kida bit her lip, thinking of what to say. But Helga did not give her a chance to reply, glossing over whatever fleeting moment passed between them.

“Geese are birds, though they do not fly, they are too big. They are entirely white and communicate by making ugly honking noises. And they have sharp teeth.”

“Now you are simply making fun of me, and I do not know what I did to deserve that.”

“I can assure you that those beasts are very much real. Ask whomever you want, they will tell you that I am right.”

Unconvinced, Kida decided on a much more interesting topic of conversation.

“I have wondered about this. Your names are so different from ours and I would like to know more about them.”

“Our names? I never gave them much thought. Well, here goes. They differ from country to country. My father is American, my mother German.”

Those words mattered little to her, their importance for Helga had her paying rapid attention, however.

“They met, married and had me while my father was stationed there. We left Germany a few years later; you can hear the waning hold the country had on our father once you examine our names. My mother picked my name, said she had wanted a daughter to name Helga since her schoolgirl days.”

Adorable, Kida thought. And fitting too. The name sounded noble, carried pride with it, just like the woman who wore it.

“Wilhelm and Friedrich are both named after the Kaiser. Johann was named that way because Catholicism grew deep in their bones.”

“Your belief?”

The question struck a nerve with Helga, who tensed. Sudden hardness in her body a stark comparison to how easy she had held herself before. Wishing to take back her words, Kida swallowed around the dread in her throat.

“When Alfie was born,” Kida was not sure if she was happy Helga continued without addressing what she had done wrong. Her voice had grown colder, more distant.

“My father was re-assigned to Italy. Arthur is a German name as well, but most know it from a legend about a king. Later I suspected that it was a way for him to ingrain a part of his language in our lives. My mother didn’t agree with it, which is how he ended up being called Alfie after our grandfather. Ended up confusing all his teachers. It was a nice little trick to play,” corners of her mouth curling up, “Then, lastly, we have Alexander. He was named after my father. At base the soldiers used to treat him better than us. Gave him all kinds of sweets.”

Humming Kida, kept her eyes on the strands of hair, moving on to the last section, contemplating her words, not wishing for a repeat of what happened before.

“I think I understand. It is much easier when it comes to our names. The dreamers used to decide them alongside the parent. Each name birthed alongside the child, ending when the person died. It was common for it to describe a characteristic or great deed the wearer was supposed to fulfil in their life. I had a childhood friend named Khnehrtooshnah, which means ‘Hero Of The Big Wave’. The only krihpoasuhrthees – the only tattoo – he ever got was that of a great wave along his back. As far as I know he has not mastered the art of sailing yet.”

Laughing out loud, Helga’s shoulders shook under Kida’s hands, the princess happy she had made her forget about her dark thoughts.

“You know, your hair is incredibly soft despite the fact it is made of crystal.”

“What do you mean?”

Taking a white strand between her fingers, Kida moved next to Helga, holding it up.

“It is like they are cut from the finest crystal, so thin that they should break, yet they move and feel just like my hair does. Remarkable.”

Looking up, Kida registered she had leaned into Helga again, though her eyes were fixed on hair, not her. Studying her expression, Kida witnessed the way she was at war with herself, split between a scowl and something more open.

Unable to help herself, she blurted out, “I like it.”

Seemingly settling the debate, Helga looked up, meeting her gaze head on. Eyes big and round, still red around the edges, Kida felt herself drawn in.

“You do?”

Quivering, unsure, the question gave her pause. Was Helga self-conscious about her body? The mere notion of it struck as absurd, yet she could not curb the suspicion. It all lined up, clicking into place.

Hatred so abundant in her every move, always on edge, tensed. Flinching at every touch, avoiding looking down, coming face to face with what she was. Another memory flashed before her eyes, both of them in her room, Helga holding her arm, covered in a blanket close to her chest, snarling at her, not willing to be touched.

“Yes,” breathing the word, meaning it with every fibre of her being, “Very much so.”

Holding her breath, Kida waited for Helga’s reaction, for her to say anything, lean in, shove her away. Instead, she let herself fall on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Switch in position had her chuckling, absurd. Following, Kida laid down as well, turned on her side, head propped up on her hand, still staring at Helga.

“What would you do if you could leave?”

Unsure what had prompted her to ask, Kida mentally scolded herself for it. Helga was finally at peace, and she barged in on her like that. But Helga did not look angry. Staring at the ceiling with empty eyes, she drew in an audible breath.

“If I had managed to steal you away?”

“Yes,” clenching her jaw, Kida ducked her head down, not willing to witness the expression on Helga’s face.

“I was afraid of asking myself that same question.”

“Why?”

“Because I do not like the implications.”

“How so?”

Hesitant for a moment, Helga exhaled, curling one hand into a fist, “The war must have been going on for a few months now, my brothers deployed.”

Kida remembered her mentioning a war before, had not given it more thought beyond that. It must be bad if the woman was so hung up on it.

“It would be hard work, but I would track them down, buy them free. None of them are made to be soldiers, they do not have a single fighter’s bone in their body. Friedrich is a doctor, Johann an architect. Alex has no heart for the ugliness of war, he is far too soft for it. My father used to call him a faggot when they went to shoot cans, and he couldn’t even hold the rifle. Duty compels, however.”

Not knowing what the word meant, but seeing the tension, Kida made sure to avoid it as she asked her question, “What does that mean?”

Helga's figure grew tense, shoulders bunching up. She looked at her, a flicker lighting up her eyes, scanning her up and down. It was different from the way she usually looked at her. Predator versus prey. A hunter on a prowl. But now? It hit her suddenly. She looked like a victim, burrowing in herself to avoid harm. It made something small, that she had nestled deep inside her heart want to reach out and cradle Helga, make her feel safe for the first time in forever.

Her expression had become distant again, like all those times she seemed far gone when they had still been in the other room, both of them convinced the other wanted them dead

Where do you go? It’s what Kida wants to ask so desperately but didn’t. Shuffling closer, Kida opened her arms, ready to be rejected. Eyes focusing for only a moment, Helga noticed the offer, rolling over, right into her. The sudden shift in weight had her exhale, but she kept going, drawing her closer, tightening her hold. Deathly still, Helga did not make a sound, even her breathing seemed to have stopped. Applying the same motion as before, Kida drew slow circles over her shoulder, careful to keep her breathing and heartbeat regular. Minutes passed until she was sure Helga had fallen asleep. Only the sound of a throat clearing proved the opposite.

Airy as if a simple breeze could carry it away, Helga spoke, “It means hate. Where we were from, it mattered who you fell in love with. God help you if it was the wrong one. They would make your life hell.”

Words not familiar, meaning clear, the notion so absurd Kida could not even put it into words, she lowered her head, resting against Helga.

“That sounds horrible.”

She was breaking in her arms, splintering into pieces. All Kida could do was hold on and hope she was strong enough to keep them together, no matter the pain. Cutting herself was worth it if it meant she got to preserve her.

“It is.”

In the midst of this terrible pain, Kida had never been so connected to Helga. Feeling each painful heartbeat as her own, she did not let go, letting her own tear slip free. How unfair life had been. They had both suffered so much while an ocean had separated them for years upon years. Yet now she felt they had known each other for a lifetime, each part of the other intimately familiar. It did not scare her in the least to be so completely known. There had been little cause for happiness in her life, the Heart had bestowed upon her a gift no gold could weigh up. She vowed to not let Helga go. Come what may, they would weather anything. Warm determination coursed through her body.

Wishing to infuse the same conviction in Helga, craning her neck, she placed a kiss against a wet cheek, skin cold against her. The sobs calmed down, shoulders swaying less and less with each sob.

At last, Helga lay still, eyes closed, breathing evening out. Though there was still much Kida wanted to talk about, she only continued holding her, drifting off to sleep as well.

*

Looking up from dinner which consisted of nothing but stale crackers, Faust saw one of the younger soldiers rushing towards him.

“You were right, sergeant! The tunnel leads right beneath the palace and the last one is a direct connection to the throne room.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. It looks exactly like the last time we were inside.”

“Good.”

Turning, he had a good view at the soldiers under his command. Those he hadn’t sent out to explore the splitting tunnels had taken up residence on the ground, fanning themselves with their helmets. Air stale, he did not fault them. All were on edge, darkness a constant companion. But now their goal lay closer than ever. It must have been fate that had brought them here, right underneath the enemies’ stronghold. Though their position was well concealed, and no one would be able to hear them on the surface he bit back his laugh. The look in the princesses’ eyes would be worth any trouble, once she realised she had been caught in their trap.

All soldiers had returned, breaking into their last rations. They would have to take the chance once they were on the surface to restock their supplies. With the princess in their grasp no one would dare intervene. Smiling at the thought, he addressed the soldiers.

“Get ready to leave, we are getting out of here! The princess awaits.”

Murmurs of agreement, excitement spread between the soldiers eager to leave the dammed tunnels behind. Once they would return to their country with the princess in tow and the knowledge of Atlantis’s entrance, they would be treated like kings and queens. He would never have to set foot in a tunnel again.

Taking a moment to go over the bag holding his ammunition, he counted the magazines and looked over his guns. Still in good shape, if battered. No matter, it would serve its purpose just as he would.

Standing at the ready, buzzing with energy, he ordered his soldiers to march, taking his position of the helm of the expedition. Ansbach, the solider who had discovered the tunnel leading to the throne room walked at his side, weaved around rubble and stone expertly. Others took more time to cross the obstructions.

As they went on the tunnel began to rise, something it had not done before. Feeling his heart beat with joy, controlling his features, Faust clapped a hand on Ansbachs shoulder. The young soldier looked up at him, young face split with a grin. Stubble grew along his jaw, acne painted his cheeks and forehead. Such a young man had no business being caught in a situation like this. The Atlanteans knew no shame.

“It’s over here, sir.”

Following the pointed finger, Faust saw the tunnel bend around itself, like a spiral staircase going up. Motioning the others to stay back, Ansbach walked in his steps as they came to the end of the tunnel. Instead of opening up to the surface, the tunnel flattened itself, until they had to crawl the last few paces in near vertical a position, Ansbachs assessment of its opening the only reason he attempted it. Small places gave him the chills, but it could not be helped. Someone had to suffer if they were to take the princess.

Stretching one arm, hitting a stone, the contact knocked it out of place. Cursing the move, both men did not dare move a muscle for fear of discovery. As no footsteps rang out, Faust decided it was safe to continue moving. Hoisting himself up the last meter, more darkness greeted him. Only hint they had made it out alive fresh air rushing into his lungs. Taking deep breaths, he relished in the feeling, imagining how ash and dust made space for pure air instead.

Turning his head, squinting his head against the dark, he took note of his position. The tunnel had led them to a part of the throne room that lay obscured by the throne, hidden from few. Though he couldn’t be sure, Faust suspected there were no people inside, must have noticed them if there were.

Pulling his massive frame up took energy and time, but at last he was free, kneeling next to the hole in the ground. Ansbach’s head appeared where he had been only a second ago, eyes alight.

“We did it.”

“Quiet boy,” not trusting the peace, he held a finger to his lips, Ansbach shutting up immediately.

Keeping to the ground, Faust moved along the edge of the room, one hand feeling along the stone. As he stepped out behind the throne most of the room lay obscured in darkness, but he had been right, they were alone. The room was much more unremarkable than he expected. Aside from the throne which was more akin to a chaise lounge than anything and a massive table at one end it was empty of most other things he had expected to find. Pillars stood around, some crumbled, others intact. Plants covered the walls, small bodies of water running from one side to the other. Around the throne a pool of water rested, stones inside the only way to cross it.

Taking in as many details as possible he cursed his disadvantage. They would have no chance to examine the room in the light, whatever he could find now was the only knowledge they’d gather.

It was not as bad as it could have been. He would have several of his men stationed around the room, using the pillars as cover. Guarding the door would not be a priority as once they had the princess her subjects would not dare touch any of them. Faust himself would hide behind the throne with two others. Taking the princess hostage would fall to him. Once they had her, everything else would fall into place. And maybe if they did not need her in the end, he would be the one to put a gun to her head, pulling the trigger. Plan playing out before his eyes, satisfaction thrummed in his chest. They were ready.

Retreating, Ansbach and Faust made their way back, relaying what they had seen. Anticipation building, the soldiers had a hard time restraining themselves. Their energy would be put to use soon enough.

Atlantis was ready for the taking. Tomorrow, they would strike.

Chapter Text

Sun burnt hot on her face, air swelteringly hot, each intake of breath tinged with sand, dust. Though it was in the early morning hours – such hot summers uncommon for Maryland as she had been told – everything in Helga protested the notion of going to school. Sitting in a stifling classroom, pretending to read books, answering nonsensical questions did not appeal to her at all. They should blow off their studies, take a trip to the Susquehanna River, finding relief from the boiling heat. Such notions were impossible to enact, as none of her fellow pupils would risk punishment for ditching class and going alone simply wasn’t as fun.

Along with her brothers, she went on her way, dreading what lay ahead. Though she was not a bad student by any means – teachers would often make it a point to state just how smart and full of potential she was– she simply did not enjoy studying. Living up to expectations meant filling her head with knowledge she was bound to forget, meaning she wished for her potential remain untapped, thank you very much. It drove her father up the wall how she simply dismissed the education she was receiving. He would scream and shout, red in the face trying to make her understand… what exactly she did not know, berated her at length for disappointing him.

Genuine passion in sports – specifically martial arts and combat training – her mother had pushed her to become a dancer. She did pursue dancing lessons, yet her heart beat for the far rougher fighting techniques the soldiers trained in. The only reason she took school serious at all was because it had always been her father who readily taught her everything he knew about fighting, bringing around friends to help hone her techniques. He was proud that at least someone in the family showed an interest in the area, even if it was only his daughter. Convinced had she had been born his son he would have adored her, it stood to reason she was worth less because of her gender. She didn’t buy the notion. But outside forces were always seeking to prove her wrong.

It had started when they had divided the boys and girls for their lessons, no difference between what they studied, or how. The boys’ expectations always differed greatly from theirs. Expected to be big, strong and courageous, while they impressed upon the girls’ to tend to their motherly duties. Never appealing to her, she wondered why the girls in her class became starry eyed as they talked about raising children with their future husbands. As the girls were subdued in their nature, teachers creating calm and behaved young women, the boys changed too. They played rougher, seeking to show off. Getting a laugh out of their friends more important than being a good playmate, interactions between boys and girls often ended in tears and tattered dresses.

She had arrived on Aberdeen Proving Grounds in 1897, made fast friends with every kid there. They were only thirteen then; young, wild, free. Unrestrained in their affections and words. If you could play you were a friend. Helga had always been a social person, befriending many of the kids she encountered. Many moved, their place taken by another kid.

The changes had been gradual she suspected, only noticed them once it was too late to stop, reversal impossible. The divide at school reinforced the idea there were boys and there were girls. No space for them to simply be. Marriage and children were an acceptable interaction. Such notions saddened her at first, losing her friends to imaginary values. The change hit Helga particularly hard. After a particularly rough game a few boys ganged up on her after she had beat one of them in a contest of arm wrestling, they left her with a bleeding lip, broken nose and split cheek. Anger came second to bone deep dread. The experience meant to reinforce they were two separate species, and she was a part of the dainty girls. Any part of her that did not fit (and that was all of them) she had to rid herself off. A teacher found her that day, not saying a word. He excused their behaviour ‘boys will be boys’ rang in her mind any time she remembered him, biting back bitter bile.

Mother pestered her at first to take her place as one of the girls. Helga would have rather died than submit to the ideals they tried to push upon her. After one too many tantrums her mother had cried, confessing she only wanted for Helga to have an easy life, not be left behind or unlovable. It shocked her that mother thought being herself would deem her unworthy of love. Notion absurd, she begged her to take the words back. Later even reassured her that no one would be able to not love an angel such as her, but the damage had been done. If being herself meant no one could ever love her, then so be it. Helga would do fine without love.

It was this notion that carried her through the years. As her peers started throwing glances at each other, acknowledging the other genders existence for the first time in years, her eyes were set only on the martial arts her father showed her. As they sneaked out of houses and met up in the abandoned gym that only years before they had used to play tag, hide and seek, she clutched the gun tighter in her hand, hitting bullseye after bullseye. Both grew into their bodies, girls filling in their curves, boys fostering their first stubble. Rituals grew more and more elaborate, even if she wished to join she had been left too far behind to comprehend what they were doing. Her friends excitedly shared stories of conquest while she bit back how the thought of spending a night in the dirty gym made her skin crawl. Despite this deficiency of hers, most of the girls, some of the boys too saw her as a social leader of sorts. Reliable, steadfast and never wavering when a boy came to invite her on a date. It was something most admired, even more envied. The position had enabled her to keep in contact with both boys and girls, a great relief for her.

Often girls came to her with their troubles. Unhappily in love; the one they admired did not return their feelings, slept with another, did not know she existed at all. Many questioned why she never went out with a boy herself. Helga laughed the notion off. At times, she suspected this whole attraction thing to be a joke they were pulling on her, waiting for the moment to reveal it. The boys were growing up, becoming more handsome. Still, none of their features drew her in. They were her brothers much more than anything else. Suggestions of kissing them had her sides aching from laughter. At times, she felt jealousy over the girls, they spoke of love, relationships. Not only that, they would smile at her full of happiness, the was never meant solely for her. It confused her more than anything.

And so, time continued to pass. Father had rarely been stationed at a base this long, nearing the three-year mark when the next events unfolded.

Keeping to the shadows as she walked to school, Helga dragged her brothers behind her who were bent on making the experience as annoying as possible. Irritable from the heat, all Helga wanted was to strip and jump into a creek. Sighing, swiping a hand through sweat-soaked hair, one strap of her top slid down, exposing her strong shoulder. Skin tan from spending time outside, hair a brilliant blonde, eyes blue as the ocean, she knew she looked good. None of the boys missed a chance to hit on her though time and an evident lack of interest had deterred most advances.

Reaching the building serving as their school, Helga and her brothers went their separate ways. Trudging up, Helga adjusted the strap of her backpack, weight pressing down on her, leaving her back soaked with sweat. Door to the classroom open, Helga greeted the girls as she walked in. Only thirteen, less than the previous places she had stayed. Most not faring much better than her, they greeted her back before returning to their conversations. Helga let herself fall into her chair, nearly toppling over. Dropping the backpack, she cast a longing look outside. Air simmered with heat. It had been that way in South Korea as well, pine scenting the air. She had to learn a new language, their customs. She enjoyed her time there.

The teacher entered the room, girls took their seats, falling quiet. As the she went to wish them a good morning something happened that was not at all uncommon. Another girl entered the room, bag in hand, long blouse in pristine condition despite the temperature.

“Class, this is Penrose Morgan. Her father is a lieutenant, and she only arrived yesterday. Her brother joined our classes as well. Please take care of her and make her feel right at home.”

Helga watched the girl introduced herself; smile kind, eye like seas. Unable to look away, even as she went to seat herself two rows away, taking out her books, attentively scribbling notes.

The day passed without much to show for it. Class came to an end as the sun stood high in the sky, air inside the room stale with sweat. Dismissing them, the teacher came up to her, righting her blouse with one hand, the other carrying a makeshift fan. Many girls had followed her example, fanning themselves with books, paper, one even used a spare shirt.

“Sinclair, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes, Miss?”

Though she might not be the most attentive student, nor did she wish to be, teachers knew of her position as the unofficial leader of the pack.

“I thought it would be nice of you to show Morgan around. Her arrival was a rather hasty affair. Could you do me the favour?”

Helga nodded, “Of course, Miss.”

“Good. I will leave you two to it then,” before retreating, she turned around again, throwing her a toothy smile, “And do please put more work into those essays of yours. I know inside that thick skull of yours lies a bright little brain, you simply need to use it.”

Though she might have felt annoyed on normal days, all Helga did was let out an agreeing hum, eyes already on Penrose, who was putting away the last of her books, girls swarming around her desk, intent on uncovering all there was to know about the new girl. Common as it was to have new students excitement never ceased, each one buzzing with energy at the prospect of a new story soon to be told. Even on a day this hot they were abundant with noises.

Getting up, Helga decided to rescue the girl from a never-ending barrage of chit-chatter. Slinging her back over one shoulder, pushing the strap of her top back up, she made her way towards them. Sensing her approach the girls parted before her, filling the space she left behind, questions all around her.

Arriving at the very front, she cleared her throat, the noise enough to shut up most of the girls whose eyes flickered between the girl and her.

“Penrose Morgan,” leaving her mouth tasting faintly of jasmine, the name rolled easily off her tongue.

Said girl looked up from where she had just finished putting her books away, carding a hand through honey-blonde hair. View unrestricted, Helga noticed a row of neat, little freckles spanning from one cheek to the other. Having never seen freckles before, the view captivated her. Having heard them described as constellations like stars before, Helga thought they looked more like dandelion seeds being blown into the wind. Pretty.

“Yes,” voice soft, unmistakably British and with a lilt she could not quite place, the girl had her intrigued from the very first word.

“I’ll show you around, if you have the time.”

“Now,” sounding more amused than rude, Helga wondered why she was making this so hard on her. She simply wanted to offer her help.

“Do you have something better to do,” Not meaning to sound so demeaning, Helga raked her brain for a way to soften the blow, came up empty.

Giggling, she ducked her head, a strand of hair coming loose from behind her ear, “I guess not.”

“Let’s go then.”

Pursing her lips, the girl let her eyes wander along Helga’s form, taking her in. Feeling unsure about the scrutiny, Helga steeled herself against it, not letting her emotions show. Once she had looked her up and down, the girl sent her another dazzling smile, pearly white teeth and dimples on show. Holding back a scoff, Helga made to move, but halted in her movement as an outstretched hand barred her way to the door. Following the offending appendage led her right back to Penrose, smiling still.

Taking the hint, not willing to spend another second in here and possibly humiliate herself further, she took it, hoisting her up with more force than necessary. Penrose took it in stride, coming to her feet, stumbling a step closer, one hand outstretched, pressed against Helga’s chest; steadying.

Breath slowing to a stop, Helga looked down at the girl, almost towering above her. She was tall already, much taller than many of the boys too, and Penrose was on the smaller side. Craning her neck, she looked at her, eyes murky with something she could not read.

A cough had the moment come to an abrupt end. Turning only her head, Helga looked to see who it was that had interrupted their moment. At the thought of her phrasing Helga scrunched her brows, there hadn’t been a moment, and it was wrong to think so.

“If you are going to show her around now do it quickly, Helga. Once you are done, we can go and take a swim.”

Prospect of finally cooling down and spending time with her friends had Helga smile, “Of course. We won’t be long, you can go ahead already.”

“Right. See you two then!”

And with that, the nosy crowd dispersed itself, pairs breaking off, chattering excitedly about the upcoming swimming trip. Sudden loss of warmth had Helga’s attention back on the new girl who had replaced Helga’s chest with her bag and was staring at her expectantly.

“Are you finally going to show me around?”

Without answering, Helga tightening her grip on her back and led the way out of the classroom. This was going to be a long day.

*

Spending time with Penrose had more interesting than she imagined. Once they had left the school behind, she had apologised for her tone, stating how nervous she was at the prospect of moving, not wanting to fuck up finding new friends.

Helga did not understand as she didn’t get what she was talking about, but she was willing to forgive her, barely even remembering how riled up she had felt before.

Showing her around, Penrose asked many questions, listening attentively to Helga’s sparse commentary and answers. After they had made their round, both exhausted from the heat, she had taken up residence in the shadow of a large building Helga thought might be used for administrative work. She wasn’t sure.

They had settled on the ground, back to the stone, eyes grazing over the empty street before them. Fewer soldiers than usual bustled about, seldom had camp looked this abandoned. It made her feel like Penrose and her were the only people left on the earth.

“I have not moved much, before. Only once.”

Breaking the silence, Penrose picked up a little rock, flicking it a bigger one, missed. Helga picked up a small one as well, aimed for the same stone and hit it right in the middle. Huffing – but with more amusement than Helga had anticipated – Penrose turned her head. She could feel her gaze boring into her, felt herself twitch under it.

“How many times have you moved?”

Tapping her knee under the unrelenting eyes, Helga refused to stare back, head falling back instead, eyes trained to the heavens. Was god listening to them right now?

“You’re not supposed to ask that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“And you are not supposed to ask that either.”

“It seems there is a lot I’m not supposed to know,” shuffling closer, Helga felt heat radiating off of her, making the hair on her arm stand up straight, “Which is too bad, because there is nothing I like more than learning. My thirst for knowledge is insatiable.”

Tone so low and hungry Helga thought she had imagined it at first, her head snapped around. Really taking in her face for the first time, Helga studied the way her green eyes darkened in colour, iris expanding. Lip caught between teeth, not another person would have fit between the two.

“Seven.”

“Huh?”

Having not expected the question, her eyes squinted, brows pulled down.

“I moved seven times.”

With a sigh, the new girl let herself fall back against the wall, but not as far away as she had been before, arms nearly touching. Helga felt her proximity in her bones.

“That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.”

One hand grasping at the dirt and dead grass they were squishing beneath them, Helga ground herself.

“Do you miss it?”

“What?”

“The other places. Surely you had to leave something behind.”

Taking a moment to think, Helga let her eyes sweep over the street again. Was there? She had moved so many times, been to so many countries, could there be one she truly missed? The thought seemed logical, she was human, and humans needed homes. But no matter how she racked her brain to come up with an answer (a person, a place, a custom, language, smell or anything at all), there was nothing.

Taking her silence as answer, the girl turned to her, sitting upright.

“That can’t be! There must be something you miss.”

Chuckling at the incredulity in her voice, Helga sent her a smirk, “Why are you so concerned over what I may or may not miss?”

Looking down, the girl mumbled something Helga did not catch.

“Pardon?”

“I only meant that,” she did look up now, one of her hands twitching as if meaning to reach out, “I want to learn more about you. Is that so wrong?“

“Wrong? There is nothing wrong with trying to make friends.”

“Are you saying this is me only trying and not succeeding?” leaning over her, the girl closed the distance, eyes never leaving hers.

Hovering so close Helga felt her breath tickle the top of her lips, tongue darting out, wetting them without her consent, eyes flickered over her face, trying to discern that look. Eyes wide, brows relaxed, mouth slightly agape. She looks pretty. There it was again that thought. Helga had no idea where it came from, confusing her beyond what seemed logical for the situation they were in. What was going on, did she miss something about their interactions?

Air charged with tension, she fluttered her eyelids, cocking her head to the right, “Tell me, Helga, what do I need to do to earn your friendship?”

Her name rolling off her tongue had her heart falter for a moment, shiver running down her spine. Fingers trembling, she made to move them, do something, but she felt like a fish out of water. No one had ever put her in as situation like this, and she didn’t even have the adequate vocabulary to describe what was happening. She was sitting next to her, so close the scent of jasmine caught in her nose, mouth-watering.

Hoping her throat would cooperate and not crack upon being used, instinct took over, a hot ball of emotion coiled tight in her chest. One hand shot up, grabbing the collar of her blouse, as the other pressed against her sternum, pushing the girl back until she hit the wall with a soft thud. Caught off-guard, Penrose did not put up a fight. Helga lifted herself atop the girl, spreading her thighs so she kept the contact to a minimum. Putting more weight into her hold, Penrose looked up at her, eyes wide, but not in shock. Lips curling at the end, nose scrunched, Helga realised she might have been surprised, but she was not displeased at the predicament.

Closing the distance, Helga moved closer but diverted her course at the last moment, cheek gliding past cheek. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of puckered lips, closed eyes. Triumphant, she snickered, holding herself right next to her ear.

“If you want to be my friend,” taking a deep breath, exhaling it, hot air filling the space between them, the girl squirmed, head thrown back, “You should know I’m not to be toyed with. I call the shots around here.”

Words hanging heavy in the air, throat scratching from how low she had spoken and inhaled dust, Helga remained in the position for a moment longer, before letting go, pulling herself up. Slumping against the wall, the girls’ eyes peered back up at her, squinted against the sun that had moved around the building. Tongue darting out, before her teeth bit into her lower lip, a nod was all she could muster, before Helga extended her hand, intent on finally joining the others in the river.

Extending her hand, hovering it above her, Helga’s face sported a cocksure grin. Penrose accepted the help, palm meeting palm, skin hot, slick with sweat. Contact electrifying, Helga couldn’t help herself, thoughts of what the following weeks would bring invading her mind. Excitement at the prospect of having someone who would challenger her had her almost giddy. What was this curious feeling?

*

Thread ripping, spine snapping up straight, Helga came awake with a start, finding herself in an unfamiliar place. Heartbeat racing, hot sweat mixing with cold it ran down her temple, dripped from her chin, clumps of dried regret clogging her throat. Arms around her midriff shifting, Helga followed them, looking down upon the woman in bed with her. Fair skin and blonde hair peeked through a blanket. Blinking, the woman suddenly changed, skin taking on a darker shade, hair white as snow. Unnerving, Helga did not know what to think. She remembered something, like an echo of the past, similar to a dream, surreal.

Skin prickling, each spot their skin touched burning charcoal, she tried pulling back, gentleness forgotten as all that remained of her was a caged beast needing to be set free. Once out of deaths embrace, Helga struggled to her feet, flinging the blanket atop her to a far corner. Swaying, having a hard time coordinating legs and mind, an invisible force drove her towards the window, urging her on.

Helga didn’t know what she was feeling, or why, all she knew it was wrong. The past was the past, meant to stay in the past now and always, never to return. It was cruel for her mind to remind her of what had occurred back then, the months leading up to the perpetual hell she had found herself in, dug deeper by peers, faces of tormentors both family and not, grotesque grimaces painting their features as they whipped her into a form they liked, breaking any part that did not fit.

Lungs too tight to breath, Helga grasped at her throat, willing to tear it out herself for just a moment of respite, the briefest second of a promise of safety. Safety. Flickering back and forth between the two, her eyes caught onto the sleeping body on the bed, before fixing on the window again. Freedom. It was what had been promised, yet to be delivered. In her palm now, all she had to do was reach out, take it, never let go. Give herself over, refusal of its call far from her mind.

Single-minded clarity, bones turned to ash, muscles on fire, Helga stumbled forward, clutching at the windowsill as her life depended on it. A simple push was all t would take. A step and it would be over. Wait, a voice screamed in the back, small and wavering, there, nonetheless. Resisting for a moment, shaking her head, Helga tried to grasp a clear thought, yet everything in her mind had turned to mush, every direction she turned to holding nothing but vast amounts of pain coating her, staining body in red, hot blood. Coagulating throughout every pore, guilt burrowed into her bones. Once it touched the fire burning inside her, burst of pain exploded in her vision, striking her down.

Kneeling, one hand clutched at her throat, the other holding onto the windowsill, Helga couldn’t breathe. Didn’t deserve it, mind screamed at her. Flashes of a lifelong past flitted before her eyes, tears soaking sweat-stained cheeks, gasps ripping themselves from her spasming throat. Body contorting, Helga felt how she left her mind behind, reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess.

Penrose, Penrose, Penrose. She was all she could think about, every thought revolving around her. Fear and love tore at her heart, spilling her blood, feasting on her flesh. Nothing but a cadaver to be dissected and discarded without care, Helga felt the side of her head hit the ground, collapsing in a heap on the ground, sobs ringing out, infused with anguish from a little girl all alone.

“Helga! Helga, what happened? Are you alright?”

Fingers touching her trembling arms pulled tight around her, their softness burned on her numb flesh.

“Come here, I have you. It is okay, I am here.”

Feeling herself pulled into strong arms, Helga crumbled further, reduced to a ball of emotion hell-bent on consuming itself. Shivering, air struggling to find its way past shaking lips, Helga wheezed.

“Go on, sweet girl, it is alright. Do not hold back, you are safe.”

Sounds separating into words, Helga finally discerned their meaning. Looking up, expecting green eyes, blue looked back at her instead. Confused, Helga’s expression tightened, burning pain subsiding as confusion took its place. Looking down, seeing her hands free of blood, Helga shook her head, unbelieving.

“No, do not pull away from me. You are alright, I have you.”

Pushing to get up, the arms around her shoulders kept her down, pressure increasing. It was not panic she felt at being restrained, irritation building as her situation became less clear with the moment.

“Where,” voice cracking, a cough spilling forth, Helga took a moment to compose herself as much as she could, feeling fingers drawing soft circles into her shoulder.

The movement brought another memory to her, much more recent. Warm body resting atop hers, open eyes looking down on her, comfort in her every move. It wasn’t Penrose.

“Where is she?”

Tasting blood and ash, Helga forced herself to say it, revolting as her name left her mouth. Remembrance sullied already, what use was there in keeping it away, inscribing purity where there was none.

“Who?”

Pushing against everything in her being, Helga went on, “Penrose.”

Name alone to call forth another round of fresh tears, Helga whimpered, wishing to take it back.

“You have to calm yourself Helga, please.”

No, she could not do that. She had seen her just before, swam inside the creek again, touched her face, breathed her scent, felt her heart fill with love so profound God had taken it as an affront and moved to strike her down. Crawling in dirt, he had succeeded.

“For me, Helga, do it for my sake.”

Plea reaching overstimulated ears, Helga let them blanket her mind, covering what had destroyed her in a thick layer. Fire snuffed out, all that remained was the form of a broken woman, crying in the arms of another.

“You are doing well. I am here, and I will never go away.”

For the first time since waking, breathing became easier for her, throat opening up to let air pass through, filling her lungs, expelling dirty grime. Tightening her hold on her, Helga shuffled further into Kida’s embrace, the name of her saviour clear on her lips. Too elated at having found a safe harbour, there was no space in her to judge her own weakness.

“Kida.”

“Yes, it is me. I am here for you.”

“Kida,” it was all she could bear to say, a prayer in its own right, chasing away shadows of the monsters plaguing her mind. Repeating the name again, again, again, the woman pressed a kiss to her forehead; soft lips on ungiving skin.

Opening her eyes again, Helga cast an inspecting look down, finding her body free of blood, clad in red and yellow robes. Sighing a breath of relief, letting her head fall back against the chest she was resting in, she parted her lips, meaning to speak, yet the words eluded her.

Sensing her budding restlessness, Kida gave a tug on her shoulder, meaning for her to sit up. Reluctant to leave her sanctuary, Helga complied, shame hot on in her cheeks despite the skin remaining a clear blue.

Once she was sitting upright, noticing the strain laying like this had put on her spine, Helga took a moment to stretch it out. Kida had never taken her hands from her, remaining close by. Though she desperately wanted to avoid her eyes, Helga had never been one to shy away from confrontation even to her own detriment. Finding her gaze, she felt her heart flutter at what she saw.

Kida’s eyes were wide with worry, brows scrunched, lips pulled into a thin line. There was none of the judgment she had expected to find. It had the nagging in her head settle down, Kida did not think less of her despite what she had witnessed. She was stronger than Helga could ever dream of being as she would not have extended the same courtesy.

“Are you alright?”

One of her hands found Helga’s cheek, palming it as Helga nuzzled further into it, taking in the comfort, Kida’s scent relaxing her tensed muscles.

“No,” honesty of her statement shouldn’t have surprised her, Kida had a way of pulling the truth from her.

“I don’t think I am.”

“Would it help if,” breathing deeply, Kida took a moment to think of how to best word her offer, “If we talked about it?”

First instinct a refusal, Helga nodded her head, letting out a sigh. It felt good to finally bare her soul, share the devils torturing her mind. She had not talked to anyone about what had happened to her back then, not even Rourke knew the entire truth, and he had been as close to a confidant as she had ever had. The girl who had gone through all that torture had been a different person as the one sitting before Kida. There were few things connecting them, the resemblance non-existent. Though she had been brave in what she had endured she had also been weak, too much of a coward to set herself free. It disgusted her to admit how much she still felt like the weak little girl at times.

“I don’t... It’s not a pretty story.”

“That is okay.”

“There is no happy end.”

“I will listen regardless of how it might end.”

The only burning sensation left in her body, this question she had to ask, “Why?”

“Because it is about you.”

As though that sentence answered all the worlds question, a revelation rivalling God speaking to Moses, Kida looked at her with the kind of unrestrained love Helga had not dared dream of since waking up in a cold room, shackled to a belief that had her throw up her own intestines.

Swallowing, Helga meant to lean back against the wall, but Kida pulled at her instead, rising to her feet. Unsteady, Helga followed, leaning on her for support. They went to bed again, Kida helping her sit, before moving to a chest, all the while reassuring her with gentle words that she would be back soon. Keeping her promise, Kida returned a moment later, holding a towel in one, a cup in the other hand. Coming to a stop before Helga, holding out the cup for her, Helga reached for it, careful with the delicate craft. It was cold, and though it was dark, she was a liquid swirling inside, sparkling softly. Downing it without protest, it went down smoothly, soothing her torn throat. While she drank, Kida dapped the towel against her face, neck and arms, cleaning her of sweat and tears. Though she would have snapped at her for it in any other situation, Helga could not find it in her to muster anything but gratefulness at being cared for in such a way.

Once Kida was satisfied with her job, she took the cub and towel back, discarding them on the table. Sliding beside Helga, they shuffled back on the bed, touching, but not embracing. Needing space to keep the courage to tell her of what she meant to share, Kida respected her wish.

Clearing her throat, Helga thought of where to start her tale. There were many moments fit to begin from, but one stood out in particular. Remembering an unforgiving sun burning down, air smelling of sand and dart, fabric of her pants rough against her legs, Helga felt herself pulled into what had been the beginning of her descent into hurt.

*

Time passed; summer grew hotter. As the sun burned its mark into the earth, so did her relationship to Penrose with her. Adversaries at first, she had challenged Helga like no other. Penrose was smart, made no move to hide it. Quickly rising to the top of their class, each time she threw her another one of those self-satisfied looks Helga itched to wipe it off her face, see her falter the way she had on that summer day.

Taking the time to study, putting in actual work saw her grades improving fast. Where before she had got just about passing grades, she was now tied for top place with her. Each test posed a new challenge both of them set on winning. Neither conceded anything. Never before had her mother and father been this proud of her. Her teacher made it a point to praise her after each lesson, talking about how she had known what kind of things Helga was capable of, she simply had to find out how to get there. Helga was inclined to agree, never had she suspected a random girl was bringing out this side of her.

It was after a particularly gruelling math test, half the class had not passed, the other half barely, that Helga realised just how deep in over her head she truly was. They had been given back their tests; Penrose had beaten her by a slight margin. Everyone else thought she might have been fuming, silently scheming how to get back at her for it, but what really occupied Helga’s thoughts was the new necklace Penrose had donned today. She had never seen it before, gold pendant catching the light in a way that made it twinkle and glow. Jealousy wormed its way into her heart, eating through her brain. Thoughts of who could have given it to her swarmed her mind. Had she taken a lover? Then she thought she would have noticed such a development, only to balk at the thought. One, why did she care and two, they were not close enough for her to notice a new relationship, were they? Trying to categorize their relationship had the beginning of a headache splitting her mind. Disappointment stabbed her in the heart at the prospect of losing the girl to some unknown boy. She deserved better than that, someone who could match her intellect and prowess.

Knuckles rapping against the wood of her desk had her attention switch from those most confusing thoughts to their source. Penrose stood before her, back slung over one shoulder, an easy smile resting on her lips. The pendant continued to glint.

Continuing to rest her head on her hand, Helga threw a quick glance into the room which was notably absent of students and their teacher.

“Class ended ten minutes ago.”

Humming, Helga kept looking at the place Penrose usually sat.

“Why are you still here?”

Humming again, Helga examined the space. Though every desk was supposed to be cleaned and empty of personal items, little doodles covered the upper part of the table’s legs and the backrest of the chair. Not a testament to great artistic ability they spoke of Penrose’s love for fun and lack of respect for the rules. Though she was a star student, she could never be a role model, always speaking out of turn, making fun of the other girls only ambition of being mothers and refusing to bow down to the boys. It endeared her to Helga all the more who was desperately trying to figure out where the sudden affection for the girl had come from. Putting up a façade of disinterest was the only way to keep her at bay.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Helga was tempted to refrain from answering, really make her angry, drawing her out. But her own mixed feelings gained the upper hand. Without taking her eyes from the desk, Helga asked, “Who gave you that necklace?”

Disdain clear in her voice, she scolded herself. Penrose did not need to know how this simple accessory had thrown her off so horribly her entire day was ruined.

“You mean this?”

Even without looking, Helga knew she had taken the pendant between her fingers, was gazing at it.

“My boyfriend gifted it to me.”

Head snapping around so fast her neck cracked, heat shot through her body, as bile rose up her throat. Why the thought made her so sick she did not know.

“Kidding.”

Lips splitting into a smile, Penrose kept her eyes trained on Helga, hand dropping the offending object, moving down instead, until it moulded itself to Helga's closed fist. When she had clenched her hands so hard the nails left indents she did not know, the sudden contact making her brain buzz with white noise. Looking down, all she could do was stare at the unexpectedly gentle gesture.

“Why do you care, Helga? Could it be that you are jealous?”

Tone playful, Helga expected to see her smirk as she looked up. Instead, eyes wide, brows pulled down, Penrose locked hopeful. Pulling her hands back, standing so abruptly she sent her chair shrieking, Helga huffed, “Of course not.”

Turning to pick up her bag, clenching her teeth, swallowing relief, “What would there even be for me to be jealous of? You? Certainly not.”

“You are always so brash with your words; do you ever think before speaking?”

“Do you ever think before you come to bother me?”

Said without venom, the words lacked the bite Helga would have had no trouble infusing them with like she did whenever someone annoyed her. But this was different. She was annoyed, not at Penrose, however. On the contrary, being in the girl’s presence had been causing her to feel much more happy than she usually did.

“I do, in fact. I enjoy talking to you, even if the feeling is not mutual.”

“Why would it not-“ stopping herself from ending the sentence, Helga realised too late the trap she had caught herself in.

“So you do enjoy talking with me. How nice, maybe you could be a bit more direct regarding this sentiment in the future?”

Not deigning the request an answer, Helga walked towards the door. Steps behind her alerted her to the fact Penrose had started walking as well, only a short stride behind her. Coming to a stop, Penrose nearly walked right into her, narrowly avoiding her broad shoulders.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

“You are following me.”

“Helga, we are in the same room. We are leaving the same building. It is no coincidence that we have to walk the same route. Now, stop complaining and let’s leave.”

Shaking her head with an exasperated sigh, Helga did as told. Walking step in step, they made their way down the stairs, through the main hall, into the street. Even after leaving the school behind, they continued to walk together, neither saying a word.

Helga thought of something to say, but each time she tried to grab onto a topic it evaporated in her hands. Sensing the tension coming off of her in waves, Penrose stole quick glances at her. Helga noticed how her eyes strayed from her face, wandering lower and lower. Swallowing down sun-dried air, Penrose’s eyes followed the bop of her throat like she had been hypnotized. Red wound its way up her neck, reaching her cheeks, the prospect of being under such scrutiny not unappealing. A thought began to take shape, fuzzy around the edges, but solid in its centre. She had seen the way Penrose behaved before. It was the same as her lovesick friends gushing about their crushes, roving on and on and on about them, appraising each of their details. Shaking her head, Helga discarded the idea. There was no way Penrose liked her. It was absurd.

Witness to her change in expression, corners of her mouth lifting, Penrose raised a brow, “What has you in such a mood?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Sure you do,” walking closer now, Penrose stabbed a finger into her cheek, relishing in its softness, “You are grinning like the cat that caught the canary.”

“I hate it when you use one of your old sayings.”

“You don’t hate anything I do. That’s why we are such good friends.”

Though she could not hold back a small laugh, Helga tried to continue to play the role of grumpy friend, taking a step to the side, crossing her arms, “Where did you get that notion from? I despise you deeply.”

“Well, come on then,” one hand pulled at Helga’s arm, unravelling them from their position, as she was dragged forward, “You can hate me all you want once we get to the river.”

“Then why did you follow me? The river is the opposite direction, this is the way home.”

Stopping, it was now Helga’s turn to avoid crashing into the smaller woman, training coming in handy as she balanced on the tip of her toes. Penrose turned to her, expression hiding something. Helga did not like being unable to read her friend. In the past she had come to understand Penrose better than she had ever expected, and facial expressions were a big part of that. Unable to put together what the glint in her eyes and the smirk on her lips meant, she could only stare.

“I don’t want to go there with the others. They hogged you more than enough today,” Helga was the most popular girl in their class, it was no wonder they were flocking to her like sheep do with their guard dog, “I want to have you to myself today.”

Sputtering, Helga took a step back. Had she heard that right?

“What?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” closing the distance, Penrose fingered the pendant on her neck, gaze intense, “We spent the entire week studying, I barely saw you. And all that while the weather is just begging for us to go take a swim. It’s a crime, really.”

Rolling her eyes, Helga could deny neither the truth to her words nor the heat in her body that did not originate from the sun.

“You are so dramatic.”

“But you love it,” standing so close together, Helga could count each of her individual eyelashes framing her perfect, almond shaped eyes.

“Be that as it may, if you want to go swimming, we should leave now. I can’t stand this heat any longer.”

Penrose let out an agreeing hum, eyes staying fixed on hers. Sighing, Helga rolled her shoulders, one strap of her shirt falling. Reaching up a hand to fix it, fingers closed around it before she could reach it, gently pulling her hand away.

“I like it better that way,” Penrose husked, close enough for Helga to smell jasmine and sweat, the combination making heat churn in her stomach.

“And why should I care,” matching her tone, Helga’s voice dipped deeper, smooth yet gravely.

Eyes glinting, Penrose leaned forward a bit, craning her neck further back.

“Because we are friends, and friends tell their friends when they look hot in a certain look.”

Raising a brow, Helga closed the distance, leaning down further, “You think I look hot?”

Before they could continue to talk, steps had Penrose jump back as if she had been burned. Craning their necks around, two soldiers marched right past them, eyes fixed straight ahead, sweating buckets.

Once they had passed, Helga breathed a sigh of relief. Why she had held her breath in the first place she did not know. They hadn’t been doing anything forbidden, hadn’t been doing anything for that matter. But as she looked at Penrose, the girl looked shaken, as if she had seen a ghost.

“Penrose?”

At her name, she turned to face Helga, pale skin gradually regaining its colour.

“All good?”

For a second, Helga thought she might turn back and walk away, refuse her outstretched hand. But Penrose sent her another of those dazzling smiles, grabbed onto her and pulled her along.

“Let’s swim!”

Many creaks split from the river, most well-known by the other students. This one however, Helga had not shared with anyone. Secluded, hidden from the burning sun, wind or prying eyes it was its own little paradise.

Penrose had asked her to take her somewhere special and this was the first place that came to mind. Not that Helga knew much of what lay beyond the fences of the base. They rarely let her past.

Worrying at first if she had made the right decision, Helga shook off her doubts. This place was beautiful, Penrose would see it too. Picking their way through shrubbery and underbrush, sun beating down on them, it made the relaxing coolness of the place even more welcoming as they stumbled into the clearing surrounding the creak. A big oak grew tall into the sky, branches reaching so far, they covered most of the sun. No sounds except for water splashing reached their ears.

At her side, Penrose let out a quiet gasp. Worried, Helga’s attention snapped to her, finding the girl already grinning at her.

“It looks so nice! How did you manage to find this place?”

Walking further into the clearing, Helga dropped her bag on the ground, spreading her arms.

“Luck, I guess.”

“Luck? What kind of answer is that,” laughing, Penrose jogged past her, kneeling at the side of the creak.

“The water feels so good! I can’t wait to dive in.”

Calling it a creak was underselling it. It had something of a river, deep in parts and wide as well, but whereas every child at base had enough space to swim at the same time in their usual river, here there was not as much space. Helga preferred it this way at times. She had found the spot two years ago. An argument with Wilhelm had left her furious, fuming. As she fought her way through thin forest cover, she had stumbled upon the body of water and after some hesitation taken a dip inside. She liked coming here when she needed to be alone; after an argument with her father, or (which lay in the past now) another bad grade.

“Are you coming or not?”

Teasingly, Penrose’s voice rang out across the clearing, shaking Helga from her thoughts. Making her way over, she rummaged in her bag for her swimsuit, as sudden cursing had her head snap to its source.

“You know Miss Wood would make you write an essay on why you can’t say fuck.”

“And Miss Wood can kiss my ass while we are outside.”

Laughing, shoulders shaking, Helga nearly fell to the ground, not believing her ears. Through furrowed brows and a tight-lipped expression, a giggle broke from Penrose, before she too joined her in laughing.

“What has you cursing up a storm,” Helga asked once she had calmed down, wiping a tear from her eyes.

Throwing another glance at her bag, Penrose cocked her head to the side, eyes doing that thing again that made Helga feel she was a subject in a science experiment.

“I forgot to bring my swimsuit.”

“Oh,” Helga tried to think of solutions to the problem, “You could run back and grab it, it wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes, I’m sure. Or you could swim in your underwear.”

Satisfied with what she had come up, Helga looked down at her. Penrose looked at her like she had grown a second head.

“I’m not going to be walking back alone! What if a bear eats me.”

Spluttering, Helga dropped to her knees, “There are no bears here! You are being dramatic again.”

“And I won’t be getting my underwear wet either, what am I supposed to dress in later?”

“You can wear that skirt and blouse without underwear for the short time it takes to get back home. No one will notice.”

“But I will know! That’s off the table.”

Overheating, exhausted and craving the cold water of the creak, Helga sighed, “What do you suggest then? I only have my own swimsuit; we can’t share that.”

Eyes lighting up, Helga knew she had walked into another trap as soon as the words had left her mouth.

“I thought we could just go naked.”

“What,” going completely red in the face, Helga looked at her, eyes wide, “Why would you want that.”

“Come on Helga, it’s just us two here, no one else. You told me no one knows about this place. And we are both girls, so it’s fine.”

Those were all logically sound arguments, yet Helga shook her head, trying in vain to restrain her imagination from conjuring up more images of Penrose naked, wet, lying in the sun to dry.

“Please, Helga, I just want to go take a swim. There’s nothing more to it.”

She should have fought more, make Penrose realise how insane her idea was, but the thought of finally letting her body sink into the water was too tempting to pass up. And if the price to pay was to be naked with her best friend, was that really such a big problem? Plenty of girls their age had seen each other naked. Any time they had to get changed for their sport lessons Helga had avoided her any and all eye contact, focusing solely on herself. It had been difficult, especially since so many of the girls insisted on walking up to her in the middle of changing to compliment her toned physique, asking to touch the muscles in her stomach, or if her thighs really were that big. Trying to hide the shame she felt as she preened under their attention, changing had always been a hard thing to get through. She wondered how the others did it without problem.

Deciding to give in, Helga nodded, before pulling at the top she was wearing. Not expecting her go agree so quickly, Penrose scrambled to shake off her blouse, fingers trembling all the way. Once Helga was down to her underwear, she chanced a quick look at Penrose, catching only her side profile as she pulled off her bra. Snapping her head back, Helga pushed down excitement and anxiety, coiled into a tight ball in her chest. Folding her clothes, underwear in a neat pile on top, Helga stood upright, back to Penrose. Breathing deeply, she tried not to think of her situation, ignoring the fact that her and her best friend would be swimming in the same creak naked soon.

Not wanting to spend another second in the burning heat, she ran towards the water, Penrose’s undignified scream behind her telling her to wait. Not listening, Helga threw herself into the water, feeling icy cold wrap around her, clashing above. Sinking, Helga felt her own heat seep into the surrounding water. Once her lungs burned too much to ignore, she pushed herself back to the surface, blinking in the light. As water cleared from her view, she realised Penrose was nowhere to be seen. Frantically turning her head, Helga began to panic, surely, she had not been underwater long enough for her to disappear.

“Looking for something?”

Turning, Helga came face to face with Penrose who was holding onto a rock behind her. The water was a bit deeper than Helga which meant she had to swim over. Splashing her friend with water, she chuckled.

“No one important.”

Splashing water back, Penrose laughed, “Is that what you think?”

Holding onto the rock as well, Helga looked at Penrose, taking her in. Honey-blonde hair wet and clinging to her face, freckles more intense than ever due to constant exposure to the sun, Penrose looked like she came straight out of a fairytale about sirens and mermaids. She looked even more beautiful than one, utterly captivating Helga.

“How do you like it?”

“Like what?

“The creak, Penrose, what else?”

“Well I’ll have you know there are plenty of things to like around here,” as she said this her gaze dragged over Helga, emphasizing her words.

“And what might those things be?”

“I fear I cannot tell you, lest you get jealous over them.”

Barking out a laugh, Helga splashed her again, “Me, jealous? You must not know me as well as you claim to if that is what you think.”

In the blink of an eye the distance between the two had been reduced to nothing, their noses bumping together.

“I know you better than you think.”

The heat in Helga’s stomach returned ten-fold, consuming her, but all she could bring herself to do was taking both hand of the stone and with all her might dunking Penrose underwater, before bringing more distance between the two.

Sputtering up water, Penrose splashed about like a baby duck that had never seen water before and had been skipped when it had been time to distribute the ability to swim.

“How dare you,” laughing, Penrose found her a few paces away, smirking, “You will pay for that!”

“Try me,” never backing down from a challenge, Helga ducked behind a stone as Penrose send an onslaught of water her way.

Diving, she navigated her way through the clear water, keeping low, hoping Penrose’s attention would be kept by where she thought she was. Slowly rising from the water, she saw she had made her way around her and Penrose was still spraying the defenceless stone with water.

Swimming closer and closer, Helga took care to make no noise.

“Ha, take that! Are you ready to surrender yet?”

Taking this break in her attack as her chance, Helga launched herself from her position, arms outstretched, face breaking into a grin. Penrose heard her, turning her confused head. Once she came face to face with Helga all she had time to do was scream, raising up her arms as if that would save her from her fate. Helga barrelled into her, enveloping her, pulling them both under.

Sinking, Penrose put up a fight, kicking at her. Had they been above water Helga would have chuckled at the attempted escape, now she simply held her breath, watching her struggle unfold. Penrose’s face was adorably scrunched up, hair sprawled out like a star, glinting in the sun. She had kept the pendant on, which was now floating between them. She had always looked beautiful, but now she looked positively ethereal. It stole away Helga’s breath.

Realising there was no getting out, Penrose gave up her struggle, green eyes opening, focusing on Helga. Like a sea goddess, floating before her, Helga could not keep her eyes off of her. Heat in her body had been replaced by a different burning, this one in her heart, a deep yearning she felt she might only satiate by kissing Penrose.

Before the thought had fully formed, Helga took one hand and grabbed the pendant, pulling Penrose close by it. The other woman let out a surprised gasp, bubbles leaving her mouth, before she closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

Meeting in the middle, Helga was positively elated over the feeling of soft lips on hers. Though it was meant to quench her yearning it only stoked the flames higher, hunger awaking deep in her chest, clawing its way up her throat, translating to her lips. Growing more passionate, Helga gripped the pendant tighter, not worried about breaking it. If it did, she would replace it with a gift of her own. The kiss continued until her lungs burned for air, but Helga did not want to stop. She could keep kissing Penrose forever, until no air was left in her and the river took her. But Penrose was interested in keeping them alive, breaking the kiss, sending her a small smile, before pushing herself off the ground, up towards the surface.

Taking one more second to steady herself, Helga touched a hand to her chest, thoughts whirling a million kilometres a moment.

As she broke the surface, Penrose was waiting for her already, standing on the shallower side of the creak, water reaching right to the top of her breasts. Swimming towards her, Helga tried to think of what to say. The kiss had been great, fantastic, and she wanted to do it again, again, again, until she forgot all about the worlds outside and only they remained. But did Penrose want that too? Thoughts of rejection, of having been too forward, too demanding made her lip quiver, fear gripping her heart.

“Penrose? I’m sorry if-“

Lips met hers in a kissing that was so searing it felt like it would burn her. Returning it, Helga moved her lips, adjusting the angle. Grabbing her face, Penrose pulled her closer. Helga let her hands follow their instincts, touching skin she had not seen before. Milky white, the texture was soft, welcoming her. Helga did not want to let go. One hand went to Penrose’s back, the other caressed along her side, goosebumps rising in her fingers’ wake. A quiet moan slipped from Penrose, swallowed by their kiss. Needing to hear it again, Helga moved her hand along her body, further up. Skin wet underneath searching fingers, Penrose moaned again, this time louder, breaking away.

Panting they slotted their forehead together, both holding their eyes closed for a moment, as they caught their breath.

“And I thought you would never do it.”

“For how long have you wanted to kiss me?”

“Since I first met you, and you pressed me against that wall on the first day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

She had never imagined, another person could sound so good begging for their deepest desire, yet here she was, heat pooling between her legs, fire burning in her heart, power flexing in her head.

“As is you even had to ask.”

Taking another breath, Penrose looked at her, blue eyes so wide, it was the first time Helga realised they were not one, but two colours. Surging forward, Penrose planted her lips on her, pulling her by the shoulders, nails digging into skin. Helga returned the gesture, needing to be as close as possible. They continued kissing like that, desire heightening each move, eyes fluttering closed. At some point they had started walking backwards, Helga leading them towards the riverbank. Out of the water, free to see, they broke apart again, taking the chance to take the other in.

Gasping for breath, Helga could not believe what she was seeing. Never having anticipated another person could look as stunning as this, all she could think of were the statues they had analysed in their art lessons, depicting Greek goddesses. At this moment, Penrose was the goddess she wished to worship until the end of time, giving her every pleasure imaginable.

Slotting their bodies together again, Helga started kissing down her neck, tasting water, sweat and jasmine, sighing at the combination that was Penrose. The girl entangled one hand in her hair, the other caressed along her shoulders, sighing out her pleasure.

“Lay down,” Helga softly commanded, Penrose scrambling to follow.

Once they were lying on the ground, water lapping at their legs, Helga moved down her body, tending to each new part revealed to her. There was no greater pleasure in life than this, she was sure of it. Each kiss, lick, nib brought Penrose closer to ecstasy, Helga’s fire touch burning through her nerves, leaving her a shivering mess.

Once they both had their fill, they lay entangled in the sun, caressing the other while whispering soft words of love.

“I am so happy we did this.”

“And I hope we will again.”

“Definitely. Now that I know what that tongue of yours is capable of, I fear I may not be able to control myself around you.”

Chuckling lowly, Helga caressed her cheek, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Maybe that was my secret master plan all along to get you to give up the top spot.”

Gasping in scandalised fashion, Penrose playfully hit her shoulder, though the muscle underneath tempted her too much to let go.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. But I might have.”

Massaging it, Penrose’s attention was fixed solely on Helga’s arm who appreciated the action, tension bleeding out of her.

“I have a question.”

Looking up at her, Penrose nodded her head.

“That pendant you wear,” pointing down, Helga continued, “What is the meaning behind it? Was it a gift from someone? And did you wear it because you knew it would make me jealous?”

“My, that’s a lot of questions.”

Letting out an amused huff, Helga burrowed herself further in her hair, but paid attention in case her question was answered.

“Well, the answer is rather simple. My mother gave it to me as a present for doing so well in school. It is supposedly a family heirloom. And yes, I did wear it in the hopes of making you jealous. It worked as well, so I am rather proud of myself.”

“You scheming little thing.”

“As if you do not love that about me.”

“I love everything about you.”

Helga could not see her expression, but she felt the bop of her throat against her naked skin.

“I love you too.”

Picking up her head to look at her, Helga saw Penrose toy with a clasp around the pendant she had not noticed before.

“What is that?”

“That? It’s nothing really.”

Sensing more beyond the dismissive tone, Helga nudged her with her nose, planting a kiss on her cheek. Penrose returned the gesture, expression thoughtful, before seemingly deciding something. Opening the clasp, Helga was surprised to find herself staring in eyes she knew well enough. Her own face stared back at her, a smirk painted on her lips, one brow raised, half her hair pulled into a bun.

“How- Where- When did you get this?”

Giggling, Penrose closed the clasp again, letting the pendant fall back onto her breast. Helga let one hand move over it, feeling the ridges and carving of the flower decorating the gold.

“As I said, the pendant was a present from my mother. The picture I got from one of our classmates, she had an old copy lying around.”

“And you just wear it to school?”

“I had it for longer than today, too. I wore it for three weeks albeit hidden beneath my clothes. Only today did I have the bravery to let the world see it.”

“I really do love you.”

Never before had Helga felt this profound a love. Her entire body felt at peace, not a worry on her mind. If being in love felt like this, she would happily remain in it forever. She did not yet know how they would manage their relationship out there in the real world, but right here, right now they were perfectly safe and happy. Here they were real. There was nothing but their love, a bond forged in youthful love steeped in the will to move mountains. There was nothing that could shake them. It was their fate to be happy, Helga decided.

*

Wishing to cradle Helga in her arms until the woman experienced a moment of calm, Kida kept her expression as clear as possible. Sympathy running deep within her, it was hard at times to measure the right amount, scared of smothering others with her feelings. It was why Atlanteans were told not to indulge too deeply in their feelings. Understanding did not make it easier however, as each moment spent away from Helga felt worse than the last. She could not explain herself why that was.

“I already told you about my family, of how my father was a solider and how we had to move a lot because of that. We spent two years, maybe three at one base before being moved again. It was the only life I knew, I never complained, liked the new places I got to explore. I studied Italian and Korean while my father taught me how to shoot a gun, fight with a knife. It was a good life. Until it wasn’t.”

Hesitant, Kida extended a hand, laying it on Helga’s knee, hoping the contact was not unwelcome. Instead of casting her off, Helga covered it with one of her own hands, intertwining their fingers. Red rose to her cheeks despite the innocent nature of the gesture, comfort the only thing Kida meant to coney. Helga did not look at her, keeping her body and face angled ahead, staring at the opposite wall. At once Kida realised, they were still sitting in dark. Sending Helga a small nod to signal she was not disengaged from her story, she took off her necklace and stretched, tapping against a fine line covering her wall.

At once, the line light up, spreading through the room, winding along the ceiling and down the walls again, dim, silver light illuminating the room as if the moon had come down to their window to say hello.

Lips slightly parted, Helga looked around, before finding her eyes again.

“You did the same back in the tower.”

“Yes,” pulling it back over her head, Kida let the necklace fall into place, “It is one of the many uses of the Heart. It literally lights up our world.”

Sending her a mischievous smile, Helga only shook her head, smiling back. Her gaze caught on the decorations draped along the wall, eyes squinting. Seeing her sombre expression, Kida shuffled closer, squeezing her hands once.

“I told you the next part as well. Us boys and girls were raised together until we reached a certain age. We still studied the same subjects, but the teachers thought that mixed proximity would make us act on impure thoughts. Maybe they were right, they would meet in secret to explore their feelings, while I was left to contemplate why I never felt the need to join in. A few boys propositioned me, and though I reject them they were never discouraged. It was a simple monotony; I did not realise the truth of my reality back then. I appreciate it now.”

“I remember you telling me about that. I still do not understand, it is not like that for us. Our scholars used to teach everyone in equal measure. It is a time I remember fondly, mostly because of the mischief I would get up to,” Kida related, trying to afford Helga some time to catch her breath.

Interested, Helga cocked her head, tugging at her hand, “That sounds… great.”

Wistful smile on her lips, Kida took the small victory, before steering their conversation back on topic.

“What happened then?”

“It was the event that ended the serenity of my life.”

Leaning closer, Kida steadied herself with a free hand, legs folded beneath her.

“It is the heat I remember most vividly. The dirt was burning hot and every breath tasted like sand. I went to school in the morning despite wishing to spend my day swimming in the nearby river. But skipping often came with punishment. Once I got there, the teacher introduced this girl to us. Her name was Penrose Morgan. I thought she looked rather plain, but since the other kids and teachers thought of me as an unofficial leader of the group, they asked me to show her around. I did, showed her all the best places to skip school, play, hide.”

“She sounds nice.”

“She wasn’t,” smiling, Helga’s eyes reflecting the low light, Kida saw them twinkle like stars. Seldomly had they looked this beautiful.

“At least not at first. She challenged me, much less demure than the other girls I was used to. It confused me at first, but I liked it too. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid of going for it.”

“What did she want?”

Mouth pulled into a frown, Kida felt her heart seize as she hit a sore spot, Helga’s expression clear as day.

“It was something she could never have, but I was too free to give,” only because she held onto her hand was Kida able to feel Helga pulling away, body leaning to the side, grip slipping. Trying to get away from her, Helga’s shoulders slumped, face turned the other way, tension in every trembling muscle.

“She wanted me.”

Every word spoken about the difference in men and women, how Helga emphasized not being able to relate to their loves and shared moments, alienated from her peers, words her father had spoken, even the banter they had traded, it all fell into place as Kida realised what Helga had internally wrestled with. She loved women and such a thing was spurred and forbidden where she came from. She would have found no comfort or safety anywhere, having to remain vigilant as each one of her friends had the potential to betray and take her innocence.

At once, the tale spun before her became as clear as moonshine. Knowing what twist would await them, Kida let all restrain fall from her shoulders, flinging herself at Helga, embracing the woman with unending sympathy.

“Oh Helga, I am so sorry,” murmuring as she buried her head in the crook of her neck.

Helga stiffened under the affection, hands flailing before she caught herself, taking another moment to settle them along Kida’s back. Sighing, it took a small kiss from Kida where her heartbeat fluttered for her to join the embrace fully, exhaling into her shoulder, fabric crinkling under desperate fingers wishing for comfort, the other desperate to accept it but unused to the mere thought of it. Like a dance neither knew the steps to, Kida’s one of spectacular twirls and masterful turns, Helga’s a turbulent sequence of push and shove.

“You do not need to tell me more than that. I think I know what you will say.”

Muffled and broken, a pitiful laugh rumbled against her, “You could never know what I have gone through as it is so inhumane I myself can barely comprehend it.”

Carding through her hair, Kida contemplated the words. Doubt bloomed in her chest, unsure if she would be able to handle whatever it was Helga held back. But she had told her so much already and Kida wanted her to finish her tale. It was the right thing to do.

“Please, go on then. I will listen.”

“If you are sure, then I will continue. But I’ll warn you again Kida, it doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“Life does not bend to our morality as much as we might wish for it to.”

“I know. But it does not make my fate any easier.”

“It cannot. I am sorry for all you had to endure.”

“And yet you know nearly none of it. Let me tell you what happened. She challenged me in ways I didn’t know I wanted to be before. I was my best self with her. She took everything my mother thought was unlovable and made it into something beautiful. Her drive, passion and sharp wit made me fall in love with her,” Kida reassured her, applying pressure where it was wanted, “I didn’t know it at the time. I had heard my friends talk of love, but all the ever did was take a boy in the night and satisfy their lust. It wasn’t the love I felt, no. She had taken up a place deep in my heart, I could’ve never carved her out even if I wished to.”

“I’d never contemplated that she might love me back, it was an absurd thought, yet I was taken by it. She came up with this little scheme and by the end of it our feelings were out in the open. And against my fears she returned them. We became a couple,” clear was the softness in her voice as she spoke of it, “If only in secret. We met in summer and only grew closer until winter came around.”

“Then, one day, her brother found out about us,” voice straining with bitter betrayal, Helga went on, touch turning hard, “We had been hiding behind the school, he caught us kissing and lost it. He grabbed Penrose, but I stopped him. He punched me, yet I had never backed down from a fight before, and I was much stronger than him. He was a mess before he could put up a defence. I remember him screaming about how disgusting I was for what I did to his sister. It only served to make me more angry. It was Penrose who stopped me, putting herself between us. She begged him to not tell anyone, but he only stared at me.”

“The look in his eyes is burned into my mind. I wanted to spit in his face, tell him he was more disgusting than I could ever be, but I knew I had lost the fight before it began. He ran, and we stayed behind. I comforted Penrose and reassured her that as long as we denied whatever he told her father we would be fine.”

“He didn’t just tell his parents however, but mine as well. Suddenly it was as if everyone had been there. Everyone knew. The teachers and our parents confronted us. She told them it had been my fault, that I had pressured her into it. Her brother testified the same, said he had got his bruises when he tried to save her from me,” shoulders shaking, Kida thought she was crying at first, voice growing quieter, but pulling back revealed eyes alight with fire, fletching teeth, tendons straining in her neck, “He accused me of being a predator, someone who had to be jailed away, because I would only hurt the innocent people in my life!”

It was a roar, one so broken and anguished Kida saw herself transported back to her room, the woman before her feral, uncontrolled, unlike anything human. It made shivers break across her skin, hair standing up, breathing speeding up. Pushing through, Kida reminded herself that this was not the same woman. What she had seen then was a body broken by whatever the Heart had done to her, so close to collapse she meant to fling herself out a window. Helga was not dangerous to those around her, if anything, she posed a threat to herself.

Refusing to let her slip through her fingers, Kida let herself move with her, body rocking back and forth, while tightening her grip. Clinging on, Helga calmed beneath her ministrations, each move less jagged than before until all that remained were tremors running up and down her body. Kida knew of the might she cared beneath that blue skin. Her body was something to be marvelled at, every muscle well-defined, ready to fulfil its purpose. Feeling them thrumming beneath her hands made her wonder how much power she truly held over Helga. If the woman decided to unshackle herself completely there was nothing she could place in her way. She had proven it back when she had taken her prisoner, iron grip so tight Kida feared she’d never be able to free herself. Helga held the power to level entire cities, yet she was resting in her arms instead, revealing wounds so deep Kida drowned in their blood.

„After that was done, I did not want to talk to her again, but she caught up with me outside. I lashed out and told her I hated her. She pleaded with me, begged for forgiveness. I had half a mind to storm past her when she pulled up her shirt and revealed the bruises on her body. She told me how her father had beat her to the brink of death because of our love. She blamed me in front of the teachers out of fear of him and what he would do to her once they were alone.”

Anger disappearing, longing painted her words blue, “I forgave her. Then I proposed we should run away. It was a desperate idea, we were sixteen and stupid kids, but at the time it was the only way I could think of to grant us happiness. She told me she couldn’t do it. Her father had been reassigned and they would leave the next day. I told her again that we should just run away, but where would we have gone? We had nothing, though that wouldn’t have stopped me. We agreed to meet again in the evening, but once I got home and prepared my bag-“

Retching, Helga pressed a hand to her mouth. Kida jumped to her feet, grabbing the cup on the table and pressed it to Helga’s lips. Less than ideal, it was the only help she could provide. Drawing circles into Helga’s shaking shoulders, she fell apart beneath her fingers.

Lowering herself, Kida knelt before her, taking care to wipe faintly glowing tears from her eyes, contact burning her. Pushing on, she kept to her task, speaking calming words as she offered comfort Helga readily accepted.

Once the retching stopped, Kida took the cup from her. Holding it away from her, she caught only a short glimpse of it, seeing it barely filled with what looked like acid. Not wanting to leave her alone for long, Kida put the cup down in a basin in her bathroom before rushing back to Helga who lay crumbled on the bed. Leaning over her, taking care not to take up too much space or obstruct her line of sight, she took her in. Helga was trembling head to toe, hands burrowed into the fabric around her chest, little tears lining fine spots her fingers were clinging to. Face contorted into an expression akin to a wounded animal on the verge of death, Kida pressed a hand to her cheek.

“Come on, let us rid you of that horrible taste.”

One hand snapped up, wrapping around hers and not letting go. The picture might have been cute if the circumstances were different, but all she felt now was a need to care for her. Helga did not budge an inch as Kida pulled. Using her other hand to snake around an arm, Kida made an effort to get her up. Helga remained laying on her side, in no mind to get up.

“It is only be a short way to the bathroom.”

Deep, low rumbling vibrated in her chest. The ‘no’ clear. Huffing, Kida let herself fall next to her, dropping Helga’s arm to wipe some residue sweat from her forehead. Fluttering open, Helga’s eyes found hers in the dim light. They shone brightly, despite how dull they had looked before, lights like stars sparkling. Captivating, they made her hold her breath, conscious of this moment between them, separated only by grief.

“Let me finish my story. I fear I won’t be strong enough to continue if I stop now.”

Stroking along her cheek with the back of her hand, Kida nodded once, not breaking their eye contact.

„I went home, ready to pack my bag, but as I stepped through the door my father yanked me back by my arm and slapped me across the face. He screamed at me, accused me of besmirching his honour, as if I wasn’t receiving the worst of the treatment. He told me their accusations had reached the high levels of command who wished for the situation to be dealt with. So, they made him an offer. Have me institutionalised, or risk demotion.”

“For him, the answer was clear. My mother tried to fight for me, but I could hear in her words she’d given up as well. When they came to take me away, I fought tooth and nail to stay, but it was in vain. The last thing I saw was the way my father shielded my mother as she lay screaming on the ground.”

With each word she had grown stiffer until not one of her muscles moved, even her breathing coming to a stop. Heart squeezing at what she saw, words painting a brutal picture for her to take in, Kida tried to hold Helga to her words. The only way to get through this was by pushing on, sharing the evil things that had been done to her, Kida having to content herself by imaging all the things she would scream at Helga’s father. How dare he abandon his own child out of a simple notion like love. This inane quality of cruelty made her throat close up.

Nearly catatonic, Kida continued stroking her, willing her back into existence.

“You are doing so well. Nearly done. You can do this.”

*

They dragged her kicking and screaming. She was nothing if not a fighter, they had not yet taken that from her nor would they ever.

As the van came to a stop Helga contemplated how to best break through their ranks and make her way back. The drive had not been awfully long, if she kept up a decent speed, she’d reach Aberdeen Proving Ground within the end of the day.

Opening, the wings of the van gave way to what lay beyond. Late winter sun shone done on them, bathing the snow-clad ground in white light. Two men stepped in, grabbed her arms and dragged her out. Big and muscled they looked like the soldiers she had known all her life. Having put up a fight before, Helga let herself get dragged for a few steps, making them believe she would submit to their force. Once they had rounded the van, the road they had taken coming into view, Helga kicked out her left leg, catching the left man in the groin who doubled over, yowling like a cat in heat. The other made a grab for her loose arm, she used the momentum, swinging around, bringing her elbow into his stomach. Retching, the man let go of her, trying not to fall over. Making a run for the street, Helga felt the wind caress her face, whip through her hair, crying out ‘Welcome home’.

Sudden weight thrown against her legs, hands holding onto them had her slamming face-first into frozen dirt, impact leaving her dizzy, ears ringing. Caught off-guard, kicking whatever was holding her down the figure crawled up her body, trying to hold onto her wildly flailing limbs. Screaming in alarm, Helga hit him. Head still spinning, punches lacking force, the man caught a hold of them, pinning them to the ground.

She could hardly see his face against the sun, all she discerned a sly smirk on his lips, dark stubble spanning over dirty skin. He reeked of sweat and cigarettes. Tears shot to her eyes, Helga bit her tongue, forcing them back. She had failed at her escape attempt, at the mercy of these men now. Bile rose up her throat. She wished to scream at her father, mother, the world. How dare they send her here, put her in this situation. She hated them. And Penrose, oh Penrose, she would be waiting for her later. What would she think of Helga when she did not show up? She couldn’t bear the thought.

Leaning down, Helga was able to take in the face of the guy above her, his face that of the meanest sort of criminal. His skin was yellow and papery, eyes deep-set and full of dark fantasies she could see play out in his mind. Grinning, he revealed a row of uneven, cracked teeth. He leaned closer, face directly above hers and chuckled lowly, breath smiling of rotten eggs and fish. Urge to vomit intensifying, Helga took advantage of their position, spitting in his face. Taken aback, unable to wipe it off as his hands were busy, he glared at her. She saw it happening, saw him pull back but could do nothing to defend herself as he sent a fist down on her, hitting her square in the face.

Nerves burning with pain, white exploding before her eyes, Helga cried out, tasting blood. Her body had grown numb between the snow and his weight, yet the hot burning in her face distracted from that fact.

“Du mieser Bastard! Ich werde dich töten! Lass mich los!“

Struggling to free herself, he caught her swinging fist, pressing it down, weight increasing even further. Helpless against his superior power, Helga scrambled to get out, breathing harder as each second passed.

“Get off her man, we have to get her inside. And I’m not too keen on being late, ya know how the sisters can get.”

“This little brat spit on me.”

“Fucks sake, ya hit her already, it’s fine.”

“I don’t think I’m done yet.”

The man she had punched in the stomach stepped into her line of sight. Though she hated his guts too for what he was trying to do to her, she hoped he would be able to get the man off of her. Everything blurred before her eyes, darkness at the edge of her vision. Weakly, she made to kick at him, but it was no use. She couldn’t reach him.

“She’s their problem now. Ya know that. So, get off.”

He took his time, but the words of his colleague worked. Moving up, the other stepped forward and grabbed her right arm. They hoisted her up, Helga too occupied with breathing than fending them off. The one who had sat on her grabbed her neck, hold putting pressure on her blood flow, cutting it off.

Wheezing, Helga tried to get away, struggling to throw him off. They were stronger, tightening their holds, steps unfaltering as they dragged her towards a looming shadow. Following the darkness, Helga’s head rose up as high as his hold allowed, taking in the building before her. It looked like a church, only wider and much more imposing. Cold – not from the weather this time – seeped into her bones, chilling.

Leaning over, the man nudged against her ear, chuckling. The rasping sound had her whip her head around, slamming it forward to hit against him, but he moved away in time. Eyes dark, shining with glee, he whispered, “This is going to be your new home for the foreseeable future. But be careful, because they’re gonna be much worse than me. I can promise you that.”

Shuddering, Helga dug her feet into loose gavel, yet each try was in vain, they pulled her on, disregarding her fight for freedom.

They dragged her through a set of heavy doors which had been unlocked from inside and fell closed as soon as they had passed it. No one was around as they made their way up a flight of stairs, Helga finally having regained enough consciousness to fight back more viciously, tearing at their hold. Each time she moved the hand on her neck tightened. The threat of cutting off her oxygen supply did not hold as much weight over her as the fear the shadows and hollow thuds of invisible walking beyond them did. Who lived here?

They came to another door, this one smaller, made of dark wood. The other man cleared his throat, stepped forward, rapped his knuckles against it, then took a step back. Footfalls sounded out, strong against stone, Helga pressing back, heart seizing at whatever awaited her. The door opened, the face of a woman in her fifties revealed itself. She wore the garbs of a nun, glasses perched on her thin nose, eyes small behind them. Adjusting them, she let her eyes flit over the two men, displeasure clear. Once they came to a stop on Helga, she wished they would return to the men instead. Soullessly, they stared into her. At once Helga knew she was not in a place she would ever get out of alive and in one piece.

“Helga Sinclair. You are late.”

Mind racing, Helga’s anger rose. How dare this woman belittle her. Ready to spit in her face too, Helga pursed her lips, the man next to her interrupting her plan as he began talking.

“Sorry Miss Nun, we had trouble coming up the road with the snow and all. We’re here now though so we will just leave this one with ya and go on our way, still got plenty of stuff to do y’now?”

Silent, she turned her head to him, before returning her gaze to Helga whose head was slightly bowed due to the grip on her neck, yet her eyes met her straight on, fire burning bright.

“Is that so,” her tone suggested she was not the least bit interested in their excuse, “And what do you have to say to this Miss Sinclair? We do not tolerate tardiness here at Saint Belford’s.”

Never having heard that name before, Helga knew her only course of action would be her original plan. Spit mixing with blood from her split lip, she lifted her head as high as she might. Expectantly, the nun kept her eyes trained on her, taking a step closer. Taking her chance, Helga gathered all her strength and spit at her. It hit her right cheek, red wetness trailing slowly down. The sound echoed off the walls. Seeking to punish her, the man on her right ripped her around in his grip, before winding back his fist, hitting her square in the stomach. Wheezing, Helga took it in stride, crumbling but not crying out.

“Stop.”

Commanding them to stay still, the men looked at the nun, eyes wide.

“Miss?”

“Bring her here.”

Turning her around, the man pushed her forward, foot against her legs, pressure on her neck. Marks must have formed under his fingers by now, stinking of him as well. Coming face to face with the nun, Helga watched as she procured a handkerchief, wiping at the spit-blood mixture, staining the white. Putting it away, she leaned down a bit. Mouse before a snake before it pounced, Helga wished for a chance to flee, get out of this mess. How could things have escalated like this?

“I will have you know, Miss Sinclair, that we do not take kindly to this kind of behaviour here. At Saint Belford’s we are very strict when it comes to the way our charges conduct themselves. Any misstep on your part will be remedied.”

“Du räudige Hündin.”

Like a gunshot the sound of a slap rang out, Helga’s head snapped back, cheek red, pulsing like hot needles penetrated the skin. Neck hurting from the power behind the slap, Helga took a heaving breath, trying to right herself. A hand grabbed her jaw, long nails scraping open skin, drops of blood dropping onto it. Pulling her up with no remorse, the cold gaze of the nun followed her, a shudder running down Helga’s back. What had she got herself into?

“In this establishment we speak English. Keep those dirty words out of your mouth,” pressing her hand together, Helga clenched her jaw, trying in vain to shake her off.

“Fuck you.”

Tilting her head until the light from behind her reflected in Helga’s eyes who had to squeeze them shut as not to get overwhelmed. She appraised the girl, contently, turning her this way and that.

“You will repent soon enough. God is always willing to redeem those who have turned their back on Him.”

“To hell with your god,” she wasn’t a particularly believing person, despite being born into a catholic family, and this was not something Helga would surrender to. If she had to suffer in god's name she would make them work for it.

Chuckling, the nun let her go, signalling to the men to resume their positions, restraining her once more.

“You will quickly find there are much worse places to be than hell.”

With that, they dragged her off, the nun following closely behind. They walked fast, Helga’s mind still spinning, ears ringing. Heart beating through her cheek, all she wanted was to return home. Anything was better than being abused by these insane nuns. As they went through corridors people passed them by, most in a similar garb as the head nun, others in a different, much simpler uniform, looking as young – even younger at times – than her. Their eyes were wide, mouths pulled down as they watched her being dragged along, spilling blood on the floor. Many averted their eyes, others stared on, expression tinged with contempt. She felt like a criminal, despite her only crime being in love. It wasn’t fair.

They came to a new room, the door less heavy looking than the ones before. One of her captors pushed it open without knocking, the other threw her inside. Helga caught her balance before planting face first on the ground again. Turning around, ready to lunge at them, she saw them standing beyond the threshold, looking at the nun with crossed arms. She returned their stares, before clasping her hands together.

“Your duty is done. You may go and collect your wage. Go and may God go with you.”

“Yeah, ya too, Miss Nun. Until next time,” throwing a glance at her, “and good luck with that one.”

“We are in no need of luck, I assure you. Everything we need the Lord provides, and we enact His will as He sees fit.”

“Of course.”

The man who had been more reasonable and calmer tipped an imaginary hat, before turning around, pulling his partner alongside. He turned only slowly, throwing Helga a sleazy smirk and wink. Shivering, Helga bared her teeth, relief filling her as they left her line of sight.

Happiness not lasting long, the nun stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her.

“Are you ready?”

Before Helga thought of an answer, a voice behind her rang out, “Of course, Mother Superior.”

“Good. Then we begin.”

Craning her neck, cherishing the freedom of movement despite the pain, Helga looked to see who stood behind her. Two women who seemed to be in their early thirties or late twenties dressed in the clothing of nuns stood only a few metres away, hands folded serenely. Though their stances gave the impression of harmlessness, the tight furrow of their brows and tensed limbs beneath their robes gave away their intent.

Helga acted before they had the chance, storming towards the Mother Superior, blood on her tongue. Ready to fight her way out of the room, the sudden snap of wood on something dull rang out, before she fell to the ground, stone-cold beneath her body, screaming herself ragged. It hurt worse than the slap, every coherent thought pushed from her mind, only searing anguish remaining. Touching a hand to the hurting spot, it came away wet, bright blood staining her fingers. Ears ringing, Helga looked on, until fingers caught hold of her chin, pulling it up.

Following the gesture, Helga looked up, seeing one of the nuns kneeling before her, one hand holding her chin, stopping it from swaying, the other wrapped loosely around a thin pine stick, tipped with gold. The front coated in blood gave it away as the weapon that had inflicted the wound on her. Instead of flinching away, Helga bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood and stared the woman in her eyes that were so black Helga thought she could see the abyss that lay beyond, consumed her soul and taken over her body, turning it into a heartless husk.

“We have many rules here. You will learn them later. Before that, we need to make sure you appreciate what the Lord provides you with,” taking a moment to make sure Helga absorbed her words, before continuing, “You have committed sin, it is our task now to see now that you repent. We cannot allow for impurity. Do you understand?”

Not able to muster the strength to resort to spitting a third time, Helga tried wiggling her chin free, only for the nun to tighten her grip.

“Do you understand?”

Less a question, more threat, Helga understood at once how serious the situation was. Her parents had truly sent her off to be cured of what they believed to be a sin. She felt like crying, throwing up, screaming, punching, destroying. Emotions clogging up her throat, heart seizing painfully, Helga pushed through the wall of pain, cold and humiliation to dart out a tongue, licking at the crusted blood clinging to her lip. The contact stung, yet once she had gathered it, she stretched her tongue further, licking along the top of her fingers, spreading red on white.

Gasping, eyes wide, lips revealing gums, the nun reared back, taking aim with her stick. Helga slumped forward, accepting her fate, but the hit never came. Opening her eyes, strength sapped from her body, Helga saw that the Mother Superior had stepped forward, one hand on the woman’s arms.

Shaking her head, voice as disinterested as before, she said, “Remember sister, it is kindness our Lord expects of us. We must forgive those who have done wrong for the Lord to forgive them as well.”

“Of course, Mother Superior, I am sorry. I will pray for her soul.”

“As will we all. Now, we should return to the matter at hand, and not let this process drag on.”

Helga got the feeling this Mother Superior was feared. The nuns respected her as was expected, but the two men had cowered before her too. A pit opened in her stomach. Whatever they had planned, it couldn’t be good.

“Now, Miss Sinclair, it is imperative that you understand we do not wish to cause you undue distress or harm. As I mentioned before, we are here to help you repent and find back to God. What comes next is up to you. The journey there will be long and arduous, but it is you who decides just how hard it will be.”

Head still ringing, it took Helga a few moments to dissect the words and their meaning, yet she was not clear on what was expected of her. Couldn’t she simply say that she was done with liking girls, that it had simply been a quick fancy, yet she was ready to tread life like a true woman now? It was a laughable lie at best, and the glints in their eyes suggested they did not expect her to choose the easy way out.

Trying to talk her way out of the situation, Helga opened her mouth, but the Mother Superior was faster, “I have been informed of your transgressions. I must say, I am disappointed. I do not often allow for myself to feel such lowly things, yet you have shocked me with your depravedness,” walking towards her, Helga had to tilt her head all the way back, “Forcing yourself onto an innocent girl, even more so one who considered herself your friend? It will be difficult for the Lord to welcome you again.”

Gasping, energy burned through her veins, heart beating faster every second.

“How dare you!”

“How dare I?” she laughed, “It wasn't me who assaulted a schoolgirl, now, was it.”

Lunging at her, the only thing holding Helga back were the arms of the other woman curling around her, keeping her in place.

“Make her undress, then take her to her room. You know the procedure.”

Mother Superior walked to the door. "You never know your God," she turned the doorknob, "Until you have experienced what He can do." She cast one last glance at Helga, watching her struggle for a moment, lips pulled into a smile.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Miss Sinclair.”

With that, she was gone, and Helga was alone with the other two women. The one holding her body pulled her up, half carrying, half pulling her to a wall containing a row of doors. Helga hadn’t noticed them before, only took them in now. They looked to be made of metal, bolts of massive size locking them from the outside.

The woman let her go, Helga stumbling, leaning onto the wall for support. Brow raised, she pointed at Helga, then motioned down.

“Get undressed. Then, get in there.”

“What? Are you sick? I won’t go in there, fuck you!”

“Are you not listening to me?” tall and strong, her built revealed she was used to coercing others to do her bidding. Helga refused to budge, even under pressure.

“I. Said. Strip.”

Pushing at her shirt, she ripped off one of the top buttons, the material clinking against the stone. Helga flinched back, pressing against the wall.

“What is wrong with you?”

Growling out the words, she crossed her arms around her, trying to keep steady. The woman closed in on her, the other only looked on.

“Do as I say, now. Or I will do it for you.”

Torn between resisting, making everything even worse and following the order, ending the pain now, Helga reluctantly pulled at her shirt, slipping it off her head in one go, revealing the brassiere and corset cover beneath. Standing like this before women so much older than her, cruelness oozing from their very being, Helga struggled to push down bile and shame.

Though their eyes remained disinterested, she could feel he closer woman’s satisfaction at having been obeyed. How she wished to ram a fist into that pleased face, make her taste what Helga had to swallow for the past hour. Continuing, Helga took care to carefully fold her top, then began untying her shoes, the lace giving her much more trouble than usual as lowering her head had everything around blurring. Once she had untied them, slipping them off was easy enough. Placing them aside, Helga reached for the seam of her pants, hesitating.

Groaning, brows drawn together, the woman made to step towards her, Helga backed away. Pulling down her pants ruined by snow and ice, she stood in just her undergarments, realising for the first time the freezing temperature inside, cold biting her skin.

Huffing, the other woman rolled her shoulders, “Get her inside, then we can leave already.”

“Sister Luise, you should take greater pride in your role. After all we are the first who get the chance to break the new girls.”

Shivering from the cold and her words, Helga lowered herself a bit, ready to bold at the first sign of danger.

“I know that, and I go appreciate it. I simply dislike being in this freezing room when we could be in the kitchen for example.”

“A good argument,” eyes snapping to Helga, “Let us finish then.”

Sensing the warning, Helga backed further into the wall, pressed flat against the stone, cold seeping into shaking limbs. Stomping towards her, the woman grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Helga yelped, slapping at her hand, kicking, growling at her to let her go.

The other woman opened one of the doors, the other sister dragging her over. Helga posed no challenge in her eyes, much too weak from exhaustion and pain to fight back. Throwing her into the room, they slammed the door shut, bolt clanking loudly as they locked it. Helga scrambled up, beating her hands against metal, bones reverberating from the impact.

“Let me go!”

There was no opening in the door to see outside, the only thing she could hear a low chuckle.

“We will. Once you have given up that attitude of yours.”

“But we will pray that you succeed quickly. Believe me, no one likes staying here for long.”

Receding footsteps were the last things Helga would hear for the next days. The time she spent was a blur as much as each moment seemed etched into her memories with perfect clarity. Beating against the door, she screamed for them to let her out, cursed them and god for imprisoning her. Cramped, her room offered nothing more than a bed, bucket, a window with bars and the smell of piss, blood and despair. There were scratches and marks in the bed. She wasn’t the first one to stay here. She might be the first to never leave. The thought came to her one morning, body so cold she stopped feeling it.

She didn’t know how much time she had spent in here, had been alone for too long. Her anger had given way to exhaustion, too numb to scream, sitting silent, a statue condemned to eternal torment. As the cold seeped into her bones, it had formed into desperation. She clawed at the door, begging for her mother, brothers. Penrose. Whined and cried, wished for anyone to come inside, take her in her arms, uncaring for who it was only that they cradled her. There never came an answer.

At some point Helga wasn’t sure whether she even wanted to leave. What was waiting for her beyond these walls? Penrose must have certainly left by now. Her father had willingly given her up, mother cried, but she had not kept her safe. Her brothers were surely going to school, continuing with their lives. It was a creeping thought, worming its way past cracks and holes in her mind, heart, taking advantage of her hopeless situation.

I want to die.

It came as less of a shock than it should have. Instead, Helga welcomed it, embracing the thought with open arms. Lips blue, cracked, dried blood long licked off, arms and legs frostbitten, toes numb and stomach cramping from hunger, she made for a pathetic vision. Yet death would not judge her. It would take her willingly, readily, and she could be free of the torment. Realising this, peace spread like a blanket across her mind, wrapping it in soft cotton.

The clanking of the bolt was a distant sound, barely penetrating past the haze in her mind.

*

Precision sharp – Smeroosme suturing a pulsing wound – Helga talked in the detached way one would mention the weather or the flight of birds.

“The building looked like a church. But it was all wrong. When I got there, they had me strip, put me in a room with a bed and a bucket. The window was high, small and barred. A cell. For days, I was alone. I was screaming, beating against the walls, trying to rip the bars from the window and get out. My thoughts were consumed by Penrose and whether she had waited for me. I cried for her to take me away from that place. My blood painted the walls, my knuckled had never been so ripped open, wouldn’t stop bleeding. But it was good, because the blood was the only warmth I had.”

“It was cold. A ratty blanket was all they’d given me, smelling of piss and sweat. If they had let me spend another day in there, I think I’d have never left the cell alive. I shivered so hard my teeth rattled in my skull. It went on for so long I started scratching at the door, begging for them to let me out, or come in, anything to not be alone any more. They did let me out, but I fear a part of me stayed in that cell even years after I had left that wretched place behind. Sometimes, at night, I ask myself what it was that I lost in there.”

At a loss for words, her tale had Kida crying tears stinging with anger. Mind unable to grasp this treatment, body trembling with emotion, all she could mutter was, “A great injustice had been served.”

Severely lacking in every regard, words not encompassing the tragedy of the situation at all, they were the only thing she could put out in the world to combat its cruelty.

„Sister Luise came and took me to the washroom. I’d have done anything to get out of there, so I didn’t put up a fight. I was happy about any kind of contact, even if it hurt. They had me shower in front of them, to keep an eye on me is what they told me. It was disgusting, but better than to smell of piss and mould. They gave me a uniform and took me into a room where they taught me the rules and prayed for me. They were simple, like the Ten Commandments. Go to bed on time, do your chores diligently, report any uncouth behaviour. I realised early on that they were not kind in the way I knew my teachers to be. They had sticks tipped with metal. They made me repeat the rules, each time I got one wrong they’d beat me. The uniforms were made in such a way that you could easily untie the back, open the skin there and retie it after. I repeated each rule but the last one… I couldn’t do.”

Expression tight and full of scorn. Teeth fledged. Sitting up, Helga shifted to the edge of the bed, head bent low, arms resting on her legs. Hair falling into her face, she carded a hand through, nearly yanking at the strands.

“I don’t remember it exactly, but it was something like love should only be between a man and a woman. I refused to say it. They slapped me once. A second time. I broke on the third. Despite everything I wasn’t used to such cruelty.”

It was such a simple thing to say, yet the depth of her pain was unimaginable. Kida could not believe they would beat a child like that. For something like that. She sat up, getting closer. Yellow shirt covering most of Helga’s upper body, a part of her back lay exposed, blue skin glinting in the light. Hesitant, heart squeezing, mind advising against it, she stretched it out, brown meeting blue. Flinching, exhaling sharply, Kida worried she had made a mistake, Helga would pull back, slap her hand away, yet she remained, head hanging low.

Cool beneath her touch, the skin was smooth, free of any blemishes, scars. Knowing it should be raised instead, a criss-cross of marks. Even crystal blue as far as the eye could see, Kida wagered she understood Helga better now. Not only did her body look different, belonging to a higher being, but it rid her of all marks of her past. Having it erased in such a way must feel like a betrayal.

“I knew violence from my father. Whenever we sparred, he never held back, it was how I became an excellent fighter. But I’d never been on the receiving end of such a senseless act. The humiliation and shame broke something deep inside me. I stuttered out the last rule as my back cried blood. They made me retie my shirt and told me I should get cleaned up; it had to be in immaculate condition before the next inspection. I was led to a room with three other girls. They were the same age as me and regarded me first with pity, then sympathy. They helped me clean my sweating, shivering back and cleaned my shirt for me when I was too weak to lift my arms.”

“There were many different things they made us do to turn us from our sinful ways. We spent many hours praying. The rest of the time was filled with work. I don’t think I remember a lot about this time. A lot of it is a blur, other times are completely blank in my mind. Most of what I remember is because of Mother Superior.”

Kida perked up at the name, hearing it mentioned for the first time, “Mother Superior?”

Stiffening at the mere mention, Helga seethed, hands tightening into fists.

“She is the devil incarnate. She had a sick obsession with me, would take special pleasure in tormenting me. She would take me to the altar of the church, strip and read passages from the Old Testament while beating me with a golden cross. She’s a sadistic bitch.”

The silence between stretched on, Kida having to avert her eyes, trying and failing at not imagining the horrific things Helga had opened before her. It was impossible not to imagine Helga younger, softer in a room built to suppress, dark figures looming before her, grimaces contorting their ugly features.

A hand found hers, glowing, blue eyes finding hers in turn.

“You are my favourite sin.”

“I…” gasping, Kida could not hold herself back, leaning closer, brushing her nose against Helga’s.

“God can’t hurt us any more than we humans already do. But I am so tired of being hurt. I want to be happy as well.”

Words stealing her breath, Kida kept her eyes trained on Helga. She looked like she would survive whatever the world was to throw at her, she already had.

“There are things I have always desired, yet I could never have,” blazing bright, Helga’s eyes kept her captivated, Kida swallowing to rid herself of that terrible dryness plaguing her throat.

“After I finally left that place behind, I couldn’t touch another woman again. It was always connected with some level of pain. But then you came along. And now I think I have fallen in love with life again.”

One hand increasing the pressure on her hand, the other caressing her arm, Kida felt her body heat rise, heart beating erratically.

“Do you- Are you,” swallowing, tongue darting out to wet her lips again, gaze flitting between lips and eyes, “Are you sure that is what you indeed want?”

Cool skin brushing warm softness, their noses made contact. It was everything Kida could have ever wanted, soft and quiet, thoughtful, filled with passion. Yet as Helga moved to close their distance, a distant thought came to Kida, an image of Helga, sitting with tears in her eyes, mouth contorted in a sob.

As Helga went to kiss her lips, Kida turned her head to the side, pressing it instead to her neck, breathing in deeply.

Helga let out a choked sob, stiffening. Kida did not let her leave, knowing she deserved the dignity of hearing why Kida rejected her. Facing her, all Kida saw was closed eyes and a lone tear dripping down a quivering chin as her teeth bit into her lower lip, readily drawing blood. Moving her thumb to release her hold, Kida gently coaxed her to open her eyes.

“Helga, I… All I can be is honest with you. And that means admitting that what I feel for you is something much deeper than friendship. But I cannot do this with you now, not while you are raw with grief and searching for any kind of relief from it.”

“Kida, you could never be just a-“

Pressing her thumb to her lips again, Kida silenced her, taking care to not overwhelm. If Helga wished to speak, she would not stop her. But she had something more to say that would hopefully reassure her.

“I know that. I do not doubt you. But I do not think now is the time for us to explore whatever this,” gesturing between them, squeezing their entwined hands, “is. I want to take my time, and I want it to be free of your unpleasant memories.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. This is all I’ve ever known. I don’t know who I am without them.”

“I think it has become time for you to figure it out.”

“But how do I start?”

Eyes wide, Helga’s hands clung to Kida. Covering them with her own, she tilted her head up, smiling.

“I admire you, Helga. You are strong, determined. It is through sheer will you made your way here and found me. I see that now.”

Helga had painted herself as the monster they saw in her, yet along the way, Kida had redrawn her, filled in the holes and cracks with what she saw in her. The picture was not finished, yet Kida knew already it would be beautiful.

“Why? I caused you so much pain and grief, I don’t understand how you can forgive me.”

Retreating, Helga crossed arms, sinking into herself. Kida stretched out her hands, cradling her cheeks, gently moving her head until she faced her.

“You are a good person, Helga. You did something wrong, and now you are trying to fix your mistake.”

“It’s not-“

“I decide if I forgive you and only me. No other has a say in it.”

Breathing air tinged with salt and earth, Helga returned her smile, small and unsure, but there. Kida went on, stroking the back of her thumb over her skin.

“What you experienced is beyond anything I could have imagined, but you are here now. No one will judge you for it here, no one will raise a hand to you. I would never let them.”

“It feels surreal. I know those things happened, yet I cannot fathom that it was me they were done to. I was different then.”

“You were a child! They treated a child like a monster and expected you to be fine. If I had the chance I would gut them for their insolence.”

Tilting it forward, Kida kissed her forehead, needing to feel her close.

“Telling you about it made it real again. I’d forgotten about it for the longest time,” neither sad nor regretful, all Helga looked was exhausted.

Kida could not fault her, opening up about this must have taken strength she did not have. Treasuring it all the more for it, she pressed their heads together, breathing in the scent of woods and earthly delights.

“Your god is a mockery of what it should stand for.”

“You know that the Heart hasn’t treated me much better either, right?”

Swallowing, Kida pushed back a protest. Yes, the Heart had taken a lot from Helga, yet it was still her god, and she would not speak out about it.

“I know. I only want you to know you do not owe him anything.”

“At times it feels like my entire existence is a joke meant solely to amuse him. I hate it.”

“He might laugh at you, cast you aside. However, I will be by your side. We will get through this together.”

“Do you think that He… that I could be free of Him if I tried?”

“Helga, I do not doubt you could defy even the Heart if you only let yourself.”

“I don’t want to fear Him any more.”

“You will not have to. He cannot reach you here.”

“Thank you, for saying that. And for listening to me, I- I do not know what I would have done without you.”

Blinking, Kida took a moment to process the words, warmth flooding her chest, mind wriggling in excitement.

“There is no where I would rather be than here with you.”

Back giving out under the pressure of keeping her tired body up, Helga slumped onto her, sighing into her chest. Chuckling, Kida laid her down, moving with her, cuddling close. Though emotions still toiled inside her mind, the moment had turned into a peaceful one, shadows of the past which had loomed over them before now nothing but distant nuisances.

Wrapping her arms tight around Helga, she pushed her face in her neck, inhaling. She could stay like this forever.

*

Sky a dirty grey, no sun breaking through the clouds, this summer day promised to be a cold one. It was no different from the last or the one before that. The weather had been like this for some time now.

Helga barely noticed it, sparing the sky not another glance. Continuously wrapping bandages around her fists. Rhythmic, it might have served to sooth another, only agitating her further. Idleness had the blood in her veins boil, muscles twitching without anything to do. Leg bouncing up and down, gravel crunching underneath.

She had come to this abandoned yard a lot, the others kept away once she had returned and claimed the spot for herself. Finished with her preparations, Helga fell into a ready stance, zeroing in on the dummy she had built out of a sack filled with sand, straw, dirt.

Beating things until her knuckles bled, sweat soaking her clothes and exhaustion burned her nerves, Helga spent her days in a rut, unable, unwilling to confront the people in her life.

“Your form needs work.”

Unknown voice rising above her striking fists, Helga swung around, arms ready to hit whoever stood before her.

Standing as tall as a tree and wide as one, a man smirked at her, eyes tracking the way her hands balled further into fists.

“Who the fuck are you.”

“My name is Lyle Tiberius Rourke. I am here because I heard of a young woman with promising fighting abilities and a sharp mind.”

Spitting at his feet, Helga took a step back, creating more space between them, keeping an eye on each of his limbs, if he dared to lunge at her, she’d make him regret it.

“And why should I care?”

“I have heard unsavoury things about you,” growling, Helga stood her ground, refusing to back down, “And I have a feeling you’d like to be free of those.”

“Nothing you can do could ever erase what happened to me.”

“Don’t I know that. But what I’m offering you is a chance to become something greater than this.”

Stretching his arms, gesturing around them. Shaking her head, Helga snarled, despising how his words attacked the sanctuary she had built for herself.

“I know you are capable of more than just beating straw. You just need to be taught how.”

“I don’t need shit, especially not from you.”

“Think about it. I’ll be here for a bit longer. If my proposal sounds interesting, let me know,” Throwing her another smirk, he turned to walk, before stopping, glancing back at her, “I have an eye for talent, I’d hate to see it squandered.”

Chapter Text

Sun filtered through the open window, dust dancing in its light, warm shine bathing the room in a comfortable honey haze. It was a beautiful morning. As Kida awoke, she felt the rays of the sun tickle her nose. Suppressing a sneeze, she turned in the arms wrapped around her waist, burying her face in the comfort of the body next to hers. Earthy and deep, the scent enveloped her, beckoning her back to sleep. If not for the knocking breaking through the quiet of the morning, Kida might have slept until the end of time, far too happy where she lay curled and cradled.

Choosing to ignore whatever it was that had come to her door, she pushed her head into the fabric next to her cheek, feeling the body beneath rumble with a near silent purr. Heat rising to her cheeks, heart impossibly full, Kida felt no need to hide her smile. She could get used to this. As the thought crossed her mind, the knocking grew more insistent. Half a mind to call for whoever had come to leave them be, Kida caught herself before the first word left her. It would not do for a princess to behave in such a way. Ignoring the way this nagging inner voice sounded much like Tekh, she took great care not to disturb Helga in her soft slumber as she gently entangled herself from her arms.

Thoughts of last night brought with them their oppressive, despairing nature, but Kida thwarted the oncoming pity, not of her own volition, but by that of Helga herself. The woman looked so peaceful in her sleep, face half-buried in a pillow, laying on the side, arms open as they had only just been loosened from around Kida. Her fingertips twitching, Kida could almost convince herself she was reaching for her even in her sleep. Heart squeezing at the display of open vulnerability, Kida wished to drink the sight in.

Again, the knocking pulled her from her musings. Sighing, Kida stood, taking her time to reach the door. Pulling loose hair into an even looser bun at the top of her head, righting her shirt that had ridden up to expose the dark skin of her belly, she decided this would have to do in means of presentation if the servants chose to disturb her in a moment she really did not want to share.

Opening the door, Kida took care to angle herself in front of it, barring entrance as well as the view on Helga’s resting body, something inside her unwilling to share the entrancing vision she made. Before her stood two servants, both with their heads bowed, though one had his hand raised as if to knock again. Zeroing in on the disturber of her peace, she tilted her head, not willing to extend more time to them than necessary, wishing to rejoin Helga in bed.

“Your Highness,” the boy who had knocked addressed her, Kida cringed at his words. The address was reserved solely for the reigning queen, king, or emperor. Something she surely was not. Not noticing her reaction as his head remained bowed low, the boy went on, “We have prepared breakfast. Your council will arrive soon.”

This, Kida realized, she had completely forgotten about. It was customary for the royal family to dine not alone but joined by their council which consisted of the captain of the guard, their most trusted and decorated commanders, scholars, doctors and other influential or well-read people of importance. Breakfast was as such not an intimate affair, as Kida did not remember spending one with just her parents. Only at dinner it was they finally found a moment of respite from the constant socializing. Kida had evaded many such meals in the past by getting up and sneaking out of the castle before the servants could wake and get her ready. It had upset her father, amused her mother, exhausted the servants. A win in her books.

After her mother had been taken by the Heart her father had continued this tradition, holding council while breaking bread, clinking glasses. She had been even less inclined to join, missing the knowing smile her mother would throw her whenever she played a joke on the visiting people.

With her father gone this duty fell to her. A headache rose behind her eyes, Kida taking two fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. She had no mind for these things, at least not now.

Taking her reaction as malcontent for their existence, the two servants backed away a step, bowing even lower. Kida did not think it possible, but their heads were about to touch stone.

Waving a dismissive hand, Helga bid them to get up, uncomfortable with such shows of deference. The boy who had knocked exchanged a look with the girl behind him.

“I will not be dining with the council today.”

Ready to intercept her statement, the boy opened his mouth, but a single glance had him look to his feet, shuffling awkwardly.

“Captain Gkhewtewtekh will inform me of all the necessary details. I have something important planned.”

Exchanging another fugitive glance, the two servants seemed to be at a loss for what to do, having not expected this reaction from their princess. Ready to close the door in their face, an idea came to Kida’s mind. Turning back around, she caught the eyes of the girl, “Do send a small assortment of food to my chamber though.”

“Yes, your Highness,” both bowed again.

“Thank you,” closing the door, Kida sighed, letting her shoulders drop. Since when did Khehn find it necessary to send children for her to deal with this early in the morning?

“Are you evading your duties, princess?”

Kida jumped in place, pressing one hand over her heart, the other outstretched as if to fend of an intruder. Helga raised an eyebrow as she saw her stance, sending her a smirk, eyes twinkling in the light.

“You nearly killed me,” shaking off her surprise, Kida sauntered towards the bed, unwilling to address her embarrassing display.

“Oh please,” Helga turned on her back, stretching her arms. A part of her shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of the toned, blue skin beneath. Kida swallowed audibly; eyes fixed on the spot.

“It would take a lot more to kill you.” Then as if it had been an afterthought, she chuckled, “I should know, I tried.”

For only a moment Kida felt offended at the words. Then she thought there was nothing to be angry about. It had been a compliment, even if it had been delivered through that perpetual veil of sarcasm and snark Helga had drawn about her.

“And you better remember it too.”

“Trust me, princess, no forces on this earth could get me to lay a finger on you.”

“Good,” Kida muttered, as something in her chest contracted. Surely, she had not meant it in such a way?

“Now, what does this plan you mentioned consist of?”

Helga lifted herself, arms carrying her weight. The shirt rode up further, exposing more. Swallowing again, Kida raked her brain for what Helga had said, feeling herself fumbling in her spot. Heart bestow mercy upon her, the things she wanted to do to this woman.

Snickering, Helga caught her eye, face bright with amusement, “Don’t leave me hanging now.”

Cheeks burning, Kida ducked her head, huffing. A thought had creeped into her mind before she had fallen asleep the night before, spreading its wings once she had regained consciousness. However, only once she had told the servants she would be busy today did she realise just what she had been thinking. It was imperative Helga remained in the dark on the details. She herself did not even know how she would accomplish the fantasy her mind had come up with.

“You are far too nosy for your own good,” taking a seat next to Helga, Kida crossed her legs, fingers fidgeting with the fabric between her nervous fingers.

“Trust me, I’ve been told.”

Chuckling, Helga came to sit beside her, tall figure eclipsing the sun. As Kida looked at her, all words left her, mind coming to a screeching stop. Spilling from behind her, Helga was bathed in golden light, rays of sun falling past her form. Though much of it remained obscured by her, where they fell on her body, they were breaking into glittering rainbows splayed against the walls. Kida let her eyes take them in, mesmerised by the way they danced each time Helga breathed, every little movement spilling more light in plenty colours on boring, grey walls.

Seeing her expression, Helga raised a brow, following where her head was turned. Coming face to face with the play the light was putting on, she raised a hand, holding it up. Rainbows danced along the stone, intertwined. Gasping, Kida took in the beauty of the action. Turning to Helga, smile as bright as its cause, she put her hands on her shoulders.

No words were needed to describe the wonder with which Kida looked on, neither would there have been any good enough to impart the joy she felt at what she was witnessing even if she tried. Colourful, bright, playful, full of light. Not at all words Kida would have used to describe Helga. Yet they were what came to mind now. The woman at the source of her joy was looking at her, unblinking, face pulled in an expression Kida could not read.

Wishing to preserve this memory for all eternity, Kida did not look away either, taking in all that was to see. Where before she had thought it harsh, Helga’s jaw was now proud, regal even. Eyes so blue it hurt to look at (she could not avert her gaze, fearful of losing them forever) seemed to see through her very being, numerous light lashes framing their sharp shape. Her lips – as blue as the rest of her –looked to Kida as soft as plums. Kissing her must feel akin to eating one; juicy, full of sweetness, succulent even. Wetting her lips, Kida could not help herself, longing to pull the other woman closer, tightening her grip on her.

Helga must have noticed her stare as her hand sank, coming to rest upon the knee splayed before her. Tingling beneath the touch, Kida bit her lip to fight back a sigh.

Interrupting for a second time now, three curt knocks rang out. Breaking eye contact, Helga’s eyes flickered to the door, one perfectly shaped brow raised. Cursing herself, the servants, the door, the Heart and everything that came to mind besides, Kida pulled back, missing the feeling of the strong, cool body beneath hers immediately.

“It seems you are a wanted woman this morning.”

Kida hummed, mind taking a moment to start back up again, heart still racing from the proximity. Helga’s scent followed her, interwoven deeply with her own clothes Kida realised belatedly. There was no getting away from Helga, it seemed. Not wanting them to intrude on them further, she removed herself from the bed, opening the door. Before her stood the same two servants carrying a silver serving tray between them. She motioned for them to come inside and pointed at the table at the far end of the room, which remained covered in books, scrolls, trinkets, a cup and two half-finished woodcarvings.

Welcomed into the room, they cleared as much of the table as was possible, before putting down the long tray, careful not to jostle its contents. As they did this, Kida looked to the bed, only to find it empty. Helga must have hurried to the bathroom. Kida did not know why. Maybe she was embarrassed to be seen with her, or simply liked to not be witnessed so early in the morning. It did calm her however, that these two servants did not see the object of her affections. Heart forbid it, if Tekh or even Khehn caught wind of the fact they had slept in the same bed she would never live it down. Regrettable seeing as her lifespan went well beyond centuries.

Once they had put down and cleaned whatever they could, both servants turned to her, bowed, then scrambled to leave while trying not to look as rude as the gesture made them out to be. Kida did not begrudge their hasty retreat, much too busy thinking about what Helga could be getting up to in the bathroom. Giving them a half-hearted acknowledgment at best, Kida stalked to the bathroom, yearning to find out what was happening beyond.

Knocking quickly, pulling it open, Helga remained nowhere to be seen. In the middle lay the pool in which she bathed herself, on the left side there stood a shelf containing all kinds of products used for washing, painting and a variety of perfumes. Stepping inside, Kida turned, craning her neck to look around the wall beside her. It cut of part of the room, containing both a toilet and a washbasin. Indeed, pressed against the wall stood Helga, still as a statue.

Kida could not hold herself back, a laugh bursting forth from her, echoing off the walls. Helga stepped out of her hiding place, shaking her head, one hand tugging at the strap of her shirt. Trying to talk, Kida failed miserably, only managing half sounds as she bent at the knees, shoulders shaking with her amusement. Seeing Helga hiding herself away next to her toilet was not something she had been prepared to witness.

“If you are done laughing at me,” Helga carded a hand through her hair, pulling at what must be a small knot, “Why don’t we leave.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Kida decided the view of Helga standing, lips pursed, nose scrunched, eyes squinted was much too cute to let go of immediately.

“What had you hiding here of all places?”

Shaking with remnants of laughter, Kida tried hard to control her voice. Absurdity of this situation not lost on Helga, the woman avoided looking at her, gazing instead at the far door, as if it could save her from this conversation.

“I was simply unsure whether your servants should see you fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You are my guest,” pressing a hand to her belly, Kida wrestled control over her body into her hands, breathing heavy, “They know that.”

Tongue clicking, Helga did not look convinced.

“I do not care what they think,” Kida took a step closer, looking up at Helga, voice steady, “I am happy.”

Whether Helga still bled red was questionable at best. Kida noticed when she felt uncomfortable, could not contain her emotions any more – careful mask breaking – her cheeks became lighter instead, almost white. She decided it was her way of blushing. It looked nice.

Choosing to take mercy on her, Kida broke their eye contact, moving back to give her some space. Before she got far an arm caught hers, holding her in place. Heart beating in her throat, Kida awaited with bated breath for how she might follow up on such a bold action.

It took a moment, Kida almost believing Helga would not say anything, ready to forget this ever happened, before warm air caressed her ear, a shudder running down her back.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Helga stood too close, front pressed to her back, wall of abundant muscle intoxicatingly alluring to her own wiry build. Stuttering, for a moment Kida forgot how to breathe, happy to die at this moment. It would have been bliss.

Helga walked past her; shoulders pulled back. Heart take me, she will be the end of me.

Kida followed, desperately trying to calm her erratic heart, ignoring her parched throat. Before Helga made it past the door, she turned, not looking at Kida but the washbasin on the other side of the room.

Engrossed in her own thoughts, Kida only noticed she had said something when Helga kept staring at her, mouth forming a mischievous line.

“Sorry?”

“I asked if you would mind if I took a moment to clean up before I join you.”

“Oh, yes- of course. Go ahead- I will wait for you. Take your time. Have- Have fun,” she knew she had been droning on, every new word a flailing attempt to preserve her dignity. ‘Have fun’, what am I saying? She is not going to a pleasure house. Once she thought it, the image had her reeling, something in her chest entirely unhappy with the notion of Helga spending time with another woman. Trying to let go of this ridiculous picture (there did not exist a pleasure house in Atlantis to begin with) Kida found it hard to move on, happiness dampened.

Looking positively elated by her rambling, unaware of her tumultuous thoughts, Helga smirked, tapping one finger against her cheek as she pushed out one of her hips. The move had Kida choke again.

“Thank you,” slinking past her, Helga moved like a goahmbkhos, all contained elegance, a predatory laser focus yet seemingly not caring about her lures at all. As she passed Kida, she leaned closer, voice quiet, holding no less gravel, rasp as usual, “I appreciate it.”

She must be aware of her allure, Kida thought, there is no way she does not do that on purpose. Then, the moment was broken, Helga on the other side of the room, Kida rooted to the spot. Screaming at her feet to move, Kida almost scrambled out of the room, almost slamming the door shut behind her. What had just happened? She really had to get a grip on herself, this barely composed imitation of hers was not doing her any favours.

Taking a seat at the desk, pushing thoughts of Helga wet, combing through her hair from her mind, Kida took in the food before her, pleased at what she found. On plates spread before her, she found a variety of fresh fruits, a loaf of bread, different dips, smoked fish and other things she found entirely too delicious to not appreciate. Salivating, Kida could not wait to indulge. Her last meal she realized had been the early dinner she had shared with Helga in her other room. Though she used to skip breakfast with her parents and the council she had always snatched something from the kitchen, used to having two lavish meals each day, plenty of snacks between each and an amphora of wine at her side.

Before hunger took over her already strained self-control, the door opened, Helga coming through. Kida watched as she placed herself in the chair next to her, so close she felt her coolness through clothing. She did not look much different than before, hair slicked back, looking vaguely wet, but that was it. As she thought this, a single drop ran down from her temple, over a sharp cheek bone, along her jaw, over her throat before disappearing in her shirt. Kida knew she was openly staring, yet she could not help herself. How she wished to trail the way it had taken herself, feel the skin beneath move under her touch, pulling sounds from her, she had never heard before.

“How many guests are you expecting to entertain this morning?”

Comment breaking through her thoughts, Kida looked up. Helga was fixed on the food before them, eyeing everything.

“What do you mean?”

Gesturing to the meal as if that cleared anything up, Helga sighed as she realized she would have to explain herself, “This is a meal fit for an entire company. I rarely ate this much in an entire week.”

“Oh,” was the smart commentary Kida thought to give.

Then, her brain supplied her with something else to say, “Were you too poor?”

Head snapping up, Kida was at once sure she had said something wrong. She knew only from stories Khehn told her many of the people her own had conquered did not always have enough food to feed everyone, many starving. She did not understand how something like that could be. How some lived in abundance while others starved.

Instead of biting insults, Helga laughed, head thrown back.

“No, princess, that is not it.”

“Oh,” there she went again with her intelligent commentary.

“I was rather well off, all things considered, especially later in my life. I guess I simply never thought of indulging in food this way. I’m still used to what they served us in the military.”

Such a statement felt foreign to her. Kida was of the sentiment that good food was one of the keys to leading a good life.

“Then I hope this meal will show you just how important fine food is to us.”

Ready to dig in, Kida began cutting the bread, handing one slice over before loading her own up with pieces of spiced meat and vegetables. Following her lead, Helga tried all the new things presented before her, appreciative of the flavours extending across her tongue.

Kida poured woaineeohs for them, both cups filled to the brim. Helga looked at her in surprise.

“Do you serve wine all year?”

“It is not wine, not as you know it. Instead, we ferment grapes and mix them with fresh ones. Woaieenohs is what we serve.”

“But you still get those grapes all year round?”

“Almost. We can harvest them at all times except khekdekh.”

Helga looked at her, brow raised. Realising she would have to expand on their seasons – ones she might not be familiar with – Kida tried to think of how to best describe them.

“We have four seasons, same as you. Sehksahm, brehwkhdeh, khekdekh and swehyd. During sekhsahm, the lava from our volcano ripens our fields. We use this time to plan and plant. It is by far the longest season, compromising of thirteen months.”

“Okay, that’s quite a long year, ours is only twelve months long.”

“That does not seem long at all.”

“Not compared to yours. How do you measure yours?”

“You mean in days?”

“Yes.”

“One month is eighteen days.”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense,” tapping the table, Helga pursed her lips, “That would bring your year to three hundred sixty days. Is that right?”

“There is more. Let me continue and I will illuminate you.”

“Then by all means, don’t let me hold you back, princess.”

“Swehyd comes after, it is rather short and marks the beginning and end of our harvest. Then we have brehwkhdeh, the time of the hot sun. The earth and air become too hot to do any work at all. Children spent all their time in the rivers as is very wise of them.”

“And last comes khekdekh, which is the time of heavy rains. The air turns heavy and thick. It’s like walking through soup. Storms and rain come over us and wash away all that we left from our fields. It’s a special time to us, as it signifies new beginnings.” Contemplating for a moment how much to divulge, Kida opted to share the next detail. “After how the end came upon Atlantis, we as people have grown afraid of it, is what I feel like.”

Helga looked at her, eyes glinting, but her mouth remained shut. Her clear interest helped Kida go on.

“We used to celebrate the time and dance outside, but we do not do that any more. It used to be a time we would cleanse ourselves and wish well upon our neighbours, now we only hope not to be swept away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Kida wished she could show Helga what she meant. The celebrations held in the honour of khekdekh were something to be marvelled at, yet since she had been a child they had not held them. Maybe that was something she could change for the better.

“That,” Kida took a sip of her drink before continuing, “Are our seasons. There is also kritapar, which falls into sehksahm. It rounds the year up to three hundred sixty and five days. Same as yours. We always hold a big celebration; it is the most wonderful time of the year.”

“You party for five days straight?” quirking her brow, Helga seemed less than enthused and not at all like she believed her.

Kida chuckled, realising how absurd this must seem to someone with such a limited lifespan, “Indeed. We rarely indulge ourselves, kritapar is one of the few chances any of us get to fully let go.”

Breakfast continued like that; idle chatter passed between the two. Kida felt she could keep going forever, the normalcy of the situation satisfying a part deep inside of her she did not know she longed to sate. As all things did the meal ended, both women happily sated. Helga took the initiative, stacking plates, cleaning crumbs. It endeared her further to Kida who felt her cheeks heat at being able to witness such an intimate moment. Helga looked not at all like a warrior, nothing about her screaming death, blood, decay. In their stead, she exuded a calm Kida found had been sorely lacking from her life before.

“What now?”

She had to make a list with how often she had been interrupted in her thoughts the past days, she concluded.

“You said you had a plan for today. We are done eating, so let me hear what that mind of yours came up with.”

Giddy with excitement, Kida shot to her feet. Helga flinched at the sudden move; head tilted back to look up at the pacing woman.

“First we will need to get ready. Then-“ at this she turned, pointing at Helga “-I will show you what I have planned.”

“You are making up more conditions?”

Sensing the teasing edge in her voice, Kida was much too excited to let herself be riled up this way, choosing instead to enter her bathroom. Helga followed after a few moments. They got ready in companionable silence. Kida caught Helga glancing at her from time to time, light in her eyes piercingly bright.

Dragging her before her closet, Kida contemplated what outfit would work best in her favour. Something sturdy, yet light. Not too revealing, but not concealing too much of the trained body next to- Interrupting the thought herself, Kida grabbed a few different things, turning around. Helga sat on the bed, happy to wait for whatever it was Kida deigned bestow upon her. Seeing the blue and silver articles of clothing in her hands, brows shooting up, she eyed her incredulously.

“What is the matter?”

“You want me to wear blue?”

Cocking her head, Kida considered the question. Silver and blue were the colours typically worn by the royal family. Though it was neither forbidden for them to wear something different nor for other people to dye their clothing this way it had become a tradition everyone followed. Kida hardly possessed clothes of another make, only what Helga currently wore.

“Yes.”

Silently, Helga took what Kida offered, inspecting the garments. Remembering her scratchy pants, thick shirt Kida wondered whether Helga had worn something this nice before. She did not want to assume, Helga did seem the woman who placed more importance on the practical advantages of clothing rather than their aesthetic, yet in the short time Kida had known her she had learned that she did have an eye for the beauty of fashion.

“You can change in there.” Pointing at the bathroom, Kida made to turn, adding before her courage left her, “If you need help, I will be right here.”

Standing without comment, Helga accepted her offer, disappearing behind the door. Kida breathed in deeply, catching her scent again. She could not wait to see Helga in the traditional clothing, imagination running wild.

Getting dressed herself, Kida chose an outfit similar to the one she had worn when she found Milo and his group the first time. Light pants, a long piece of cloth wrapped along her body, secured around her neck. Mirror-image winking at her, she made for quite a pretty sight. Would Helga think me pretty? Maybe even compliment me on my outfit? The thought her shaking in the legs, grabbing the table to keep herself upright.

And what would Helga look like in not just traditional Atlantean garb, but that of royalty? Would she look pretty as well? Something about the word seemed lacking. Helga was pretty, no doubt, yet her angular features, straight nose, sharp eyes did not fit it as well. Beautiful, maybe? Troubled at finding no word that fit how she would describe Helga’s looks appropriately she did not notice the door behind her opening, a figure slinking inside.

“What are you thinking about?” only as a cool lips whispered the words into her ear, hands holding her waist close, did Kida catch up with what was happening, turning around, shocked.

Helga stood before her, looking more handsome than ever before. At once, she knew she had found the right word to describe her beauty. Handsome. Head held high, staring down proudly, Helga wore a smirk oozing of confidence. She wore a sleeveless top, arms out for all to see. Its deep blue colour contrasted well with her light skin, ocean against sky. Pants wide and airy, both pieces displayed the same embroidery; silver waves lapping at her slim waist, curling around shapely thighs, accentuating muscled limbs. Bringing everything together was a loincloth in the most brilliantly light blue Kida had ever laid eyes upon.

“What do you think?”

Stupid question, nothing at all. There was not a thought in Kida’s brain at all, entire being consumed with the vision before her. Never would she have imagined seeing Helga wearing not only the colours of her family but her own clothing as well. As there was quite a difference in their statue, they hugged Helga much tighter than they ever did for Kida which only served to expose for of her features to her. Swallowing, Kida tried to form a response, coming up with nothing.

“Am I to your liking?”

Now Helga was purely teasing her to be cruel, Kida was sure of it. Trying to win back some semblance of control, Kida reached out a hand, hesitant for only a moment before pulling at the loincloth, centring it.

“Have you ever dressed yourself,” muttering quietly, she hoped it would stop whatever mischief Helga was pursuing, realising only too late what trap she blindly stumbled into.

“You offered your assistance if I needed it.”

There was a glint in her eyes, one that had her shiver beneath her fingers. How was it that Helga had turned from this hurting, vulnerable ball of misery into this? Kida did not know whether she wished for the ground to swallow her or for Helga to keep going.

As it was now the ground had not yet learned how to open upon command, so Helga it was. The woman in question however stepped back, smug and satisfied at the torment she had inflicted upon Kida who was still reeling from the closeness.

“Now, mind telling me what your little plan is? Or did I get dressed up for nothing.”

Taking a moment to steady herself, willing the traitorously fast beating heart to not kill her this moment, Kida exhaled. Pressing one finger to Helga’s breastbone – only by luck did she not place her finger on the exposed skin next to it – Kida ducked past her, throwing back a grin.

“You will have to wait and trust me.”

“Oh joy.”

“What, not a friend of waiting games?”

Kida relished their little back and forth, it made her chest heat up pleasantly. Not with the notion of love she tried very hard to suppress but camaraderie. It felt to her, they had been friends forever.

“I am a hunter by trade, princess-“

Why was it whenever she said the title Kida had born with stoic acceptance it made her lift her head a bit higher?

“-Yet I do not like being kept in the dark.”

“I noticed.”

Before Helga had time to reiterate her statement, Kida escaped further questioning through the bathroom door. Helga did not follow, low grumbling penetrating through the wood in their way. Kida took a moment to get through her morning routine. She knew her mother had servants attend to her as she got ready, same as her father. Preferring privacy at such moments, Kida learned early how to make herself look presentable; however rarely she did use said knowledge.

Brushing her teeth, washing her face, she applied a small amount of cream to the tattoo on her face. It was unlike the usual colours they used, a remnant of the Heart left in its wake. Taking care of it means taking care of yourself. A lesson taught to every Atlantean from childhood. Dipping a finger into a glass containing her favourite scent, Kida flicked it along her neck, collarbone and her clothes. Satisfied, retying the bun atop her head Kida thanked her ancestors for her hair. Its silky-smooth texture made knots a near non-existent issue to concern herself with. In their younger times her father had taken great pleasure in sitting with her, brushing white strands of hair for hours while her mother droned on about some annoying official or another. Ash on her tongue, Kida swallowed dryly, avoiding eye-contact with the mirror.

Longing to start the day before them, Kida left the room, rejoining Helga who had taken up residence beside her window, gazing around. Small frown on her face, Kida wished to erase it. Helga did not react to her entrance.

“There is so much out there.”

Yes, Kida wished to say, and I want to share it with you. Too intimate, she could not get them past the swell in her throat.

“So much to see. An entire world.”

“You sound sad.”

Finding her gaze, Helga turned her back to the window, righting herself, seeming at once more far away than she ever had. A statue; beautiful and timeless, not meant to be touched. Not meant to be cared for. Loved.

“I’m not,” scowling then, Helga shrugged a shoulder, wide strap on her right slipping slightly, “Not exactly. It’s hard to put in words.”

“Everything is. That is what makes them so precious.”

Chuckle dark and raspy, Kida shivered at the sound.

“I wish I shared your vision of the world,” looking straight at her, Kida shivered under intense blue, aware of her very being.

Helga walked towards her, strides measured, controlled. Eyes deep with something Kida had seen before.

“Why is that?” breathing the words, space between them reduced to body heat and the smell of earth.

“It’s the way of artists. They find something to admire in everything, no matter how misguided their vision may be.”

Lifting one hand, fingers that must have been adorned with callouses, scars now free of flaws tracing along the slope of her neck, up to her jaw.

“I wonder why that is.”

“Maybe it is in their blood.”

Arriving at her chin, they stopped in their path. Blinking, Kida felt tears rise, not from emotion but dryness. She found she could not look away. Not wishing to either, she kept her head straight. Helga tilted down, eyelids fluttering. Fluttering in turn, her heart pressed against her ribcage, intent on clawing its way to the source of its heat.

“Maybe it is. I would give a lot for a chance to experience it.”

Before being able to ask her question, Helga withdrew her hand, head already turned, connection suddenly snapped. Panic shot up every nerve in her body, fingers twitching at the loss of eye contact.

“It is too late for me now, but I think I’d have liked it.”

Snatching the hand back, Helga looked at her, eyes wide.

“You are mourning,” it had become at once crystal clear to Kida what Helga was feeling.

Heavy brows. Deep, roving eyes. Pursed lips. What was she mourning for?

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? Quite pathetic how you have gifted me everything I didn’t deserve, and I still cannot find it in me to be grateful,” despite gripping her tight, Helga angled her body away, face eclipsed in the light, “I feel like a hole swallowing up all surrounding goodness. I know it won’t save me, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. I resent what I have done.”

Pulling on her arm, Kida faced the other woman, heart clenching so hard it hurt.

“I think you have the wrong impression about who you are.”

Making to respond, Kida silenced her with a finger to the lips, surprising herself with the bold gesture. Helga – stunned by both gesture and bravery – looked at her.

“I want to show you the land in which I grew up.”

Not hesitating a moment longer, Kida pulled her along, Helga following readily, too taken aback to press her further.

Ducking out of the room, Kida instructed Helga to stay low and keep herself out of the servants’ eyes. They did not have need to sneak outside, she simply preferred not having to answer questions or possibly be dragged off to a meeting, cutting their adventure short.

Helga fell into step behind her easily, back lowered, knees bend, muscles tensed, on high alert. It was in moments like this Kida remembered she was not new to this. How many times had she taken the same position, stalking along until the perfect opportunity presented itself to bury her claws in her victims, draining them of their life forces. The same fate had been meant to befall her, only the Heart saving her. She did not feel contempt as the memory came to her. Seeing Helga like this – in her element, confident – was stoking flames in her belly that did not need assistance.

Catching her eyes for a moment, Helga send her a nod, steely determination banishing any of the emotions from her face Kida had grown used to.

Picking their path through the palace, avoiding servants and the few remaining guards as they encountered them brought back flashes of her childhood-self – tiny and courageous – braving on the corridors alone to get out of unpleasant council meetings, scoldings or – and these she truly detested – gown fittings.

They made it out much faster than Kida anticipated, open courtyard inviting them to strut across, begging for a presence to grace its grounds. Keeping to the edge of the wall they took care not to expose themselves, until they finally left the palace behind. As they rushed past a house Kida threw back her head, exhaling contently. Out of the edge of her eyes she caught sight of Helga, carrying herself on the tip of her feet, legs bent.

“You can relax now; they will not find us here.”

Raising a brow, Helga glanced around the corner before straightening herself.

“I took you for the sort looking for trouble but sneaking out of the palace? I’m kind of impressed.”

“Is it so obvious?”

“The first time I met you, you were ready to throw hands with the king. So yeah, it is obvious.”

“Ah, yeah,” shaking her head, scratching the ground with a foot, “I forgot about that. We got into a lot of arguments.”

Humming, Helga carded a hand through her hair, loose strands waving through fingers like silk. Breaking away from the sight Kida sprang up, dusting off her clothing.

“Let us continue.”

Catching up with her, Helga took care to keep her head low despite no guards being around. They were stationed much further out, beyond the city itself.

“Now will you tell me where you intend to take me?”

Laughing, Kida only shrugged.

“I feel like I’m being kidnapped. Be honest, am I?”

“I find the notion hard to believe that anyone could steal you off the streets.”

“That doesn’t mean that more dangerous people haven’t tried,” words letting on a vague amount of the horrors she must have endured, Helga only puffed out her chest.

Kida looked at her, brows raised. Helga looked back, before breaking out into a wolfish grin. Sighing, she went on, not paying her any more attention. It was clearly getting to her head.

*

Petals, empty baskets, ribbons lined their way as they meandered through the streets, yet people remained absent, a stark contrast to what Helga had experienced on her second time coming through town.

Craning her neck to see into different roads while keeping up with Kida, she scowled. In her search her foot missed a step, knocking into something hard that had her tumble before she managed to catch herself in time to not get to know the ground better.

Before her lay a barrel, cracked open along the middle. Both halves lay before them, one empty, the other filled with remnants of a suspiciously red fluid. Taking a whiff, scrunched her nose, covering it with an arm, Helga backed away.

“Fuck, that’s strong,” she spluttered out between a cough.

Kida turned around, having realised her companion lagging behind. Looking down, she too saw the offender.

“Oh yes. That is one of our wines. It is of the er- stronger variety.”

Stepping around it, Helga breathed in fresh air, happy to be free of the alcoholic sting. It reminded her of the infirmary she had only recently spent time in.

“You keep your streets clean, don’t you.”

“I know you are mocking me without you even needing to say something.”

“But I’m right.”

“What can I say? The festivities only concluded. People are tired and need to sleep off whatever it was they consumed. They deserve a break as much as we do. I will not begrudge them this.”

“I remember making my way through the city while it seemed it had been flooded with how many people were out and about. Is that a regular occurrence?”

“Oh no. We love to celebrate, but we do everything in measure. It is one of our most important core values. What you witnessed was A Great Joining, which we only celebrate when a member of the royal family or a very, very highly decorated solider leaves this world and joins our ancestors in the Heart to live on.”

At once, it became clear to Helga who could not help herself but wish Kida would not speak the next words.

“They celebrated the passing and joining of my father.”

Apologising again felt less than satisfactory to Helga who had spent only few moments ruminating on the death of the king. Apologizing, admitting her complicity to Kida before, there was not much she could do. She had forgiven her, yet Helga felt at fault still. His blood did not cling to her hands, yet she had been there when the soldiers had beaten him, standing by as they broke every bone in his body. If she willed herself, she could hear his bones crack. Or where they someone else’s?

“We have to go through here.”

Kida nodded towards a low arch in front of them, giving way to a small, unpaved dirt road. Beyond it lay no houses nor other structures. Only grass until that too gave way to something bigger; trees breaking through the ground, stretching towards the sky.

“We are going outside?” too surprised to hold back on stating the obvious, Helga switched from looking at nature to Kida, back again.

Kida smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides, white of her teeth peeking through.

“Yes!”

Before Helga had time to respond she bounded off, jogging along the path. Casting a quick glance back, Helga only shook her head before she too joined her princess, happy to once again be free of civilisation. She had missed it after being cooped up inside so long. Without having noticed it she had begun to go stir-crazy. This was just the right thing for her addled brain; carrying too many thoughts at once, confused at what was real, what was not. What she could believe, who told the truth, her role in the grand scheme of things. A plaything.

She was content here; the small scheme of things.

Crunching beneath her, the dirt felt loose under her boots. In the far-off distance Helga saw a group of people marching in unison, spears at their sides. What soldiers were doing outside she did not know, but they must have a purpose.

Kida had picked up her pace, keeping a certain distance between them Helga tried to close. Any time she got closer Kida would throw her a smile, jog a few paces, then slow again. It took a moment of this back and forth until Helga realised what she was played at.

Smirking, Helga shook her head before she rolled her neck, stretching her arms above her head. Taking care to stay as silent as possible, she started accelerating her pace, leaving the dirt path behind, grass dampening the sound of her steps. Giving her a bit of berth, Helga circled around Kida, keeping her eyes on the princess, waiting for the moment she realised she had been outsmarted and overtaken.

It took only a minute until Kida looked behind her only to find Helga missing. Coming to a standstill she threw her head around, looking for her. Taking her chance, Helga took off into a sprint, throwing caution to the wind.

Hearing a mix of surprised scream and squeal behind her, she knew Kida was after her. Not knowing the goal of their destination, Helga decided to race until the jungle took them.

It was the first time in days she felt her lungs burn not from screaming, fearing her imminent death, but rather the exhilarating joy of physical exertion born of amusement than actual use. Years of rigorous training, fighting had hardened her muscles, turning her into a machine of war. Sprinting along the field now she felt less like an automaton, but a real being experiencing emotions everyone did. Realising this had tears spring to her ears, blurring her sight.

Heart beating in tandem with her breaths; hard, constant. Legs not beating into the ground but flying over it. Helga felt she was atop the world, serenity at her very centre.

Kida shouted something behind, wind rushing so fast past her, she knew nothing but her own joy.

Trees opened before them, big, gnarled things that grew not into the sky but to the sides, branches interlocking, creating a great canopy covering her, as Helga crossed into the jungle, letting nature envelop her.

There had never been a moment in history anyone had been more human than she was at this very moment. She was sure of it.

Jumping over roots, kicking off trees, ducking under branches, every muscle in her body burned, adrenaline blurring all that wasn’t the way before her. There was no path, yet she felt in her bones where she was supposed to step, not once stumbling, the surrounding forest in tune with her beating heart.

Swinging off a low-hanging branch, Helga catapulted herself up, grabbing onto another branch, scaling up the tree beyond it. Reaching its crown without realising it, she came to a stop at its very edge, eyes pulled towards the ground. Standing high, she could make out thick foliage covering everything. Beneath her a river ran its course, body wide, current strong from what she could gather.

Crouching down, heaving down breath after breath, Helga felt herself sweating bullets. Despite having run like the devil himself was after her, she neither twitched nor trembled, body a masterful show of control, coiled tight, ready to snap at the very first hint of a command.

“Helga!”

How long had it been since she had done something purely for her own enjoyment, not as part of self-imposed training or punishment?

“Where are you?”

Coming back to herself, Helga stumbled, grabbing onto a thick branch at the last moment. She had completely forgotten about the race, the reason she had been running in the first place. Leaning over, Helga let her eyes roam over the foliage, catching sight of Kida, stumbling over a root. Picking up the movement of her lips, certain she was cursing herself, this forest and most surely Helga – the cause of her troubles – she could not help herself, feeling amused at the sight. Backing further into the tree, Helga chose to let her squirm a bit longer.

“Helga, I swear to the Heart and everything I hold dear that I will bury you alive if the forest has not done it for me yet.”

Ready to reveal herself – Kida must really be concerned if she thought it necessary to threaten her corpse – Helga made to climb down, eye catching on the river. Having always been a strong swimmer – recent stint in the water an exception she chose to banish from her mind – a plan took form in her head. Admittedly a bad one, however, something in her craved to see it through, whimsy replacing the adrenaline in her veins.

Without taking another moment to contemplate logistics, she took a step back. Taking a deep breath in, she let her feet feel rough bark beneath her. Body snapping into motion, it carried her forward. Feet pressing against the bark they propelled her through the air, sun glinting off her form, breaking into colourful rays of light. Drawing her legs up, her body flashed through the air, water toiling beneath her.

With a splash she crashed through waves, screaming out her joy, sinking into cold. Like an embrace, it did not bring back memories of a desperate time wherein she tried to kill herself. Only elation remained, chest light despite how heavy her heart was beating, breaking through her muscles, flesh. She wished to stay like this forever.

Lungs burning with the need for air, unfolding limbs, Helga pushed herself to the surface breaking through easily. Sputtering, coughing water, she threw back her head, hair falling from her face. World a blur before her; yellow rays of sun making water sparkle white, droplets glinting in the air.

“Helga!”

Shriek behind her pulling her back to the present, Helga turned, legs kicking up to keep her in position. Current far less strong than she had anticipated, it reminded her of Susquehanna River. It used to be a mark of a happier time, only now she did not know why now, feeling better than she ever had.

“I will strangle you with my own fucking hands!”

Hands stemmed on the sides, Kida stood on the riverbank, face pulled in a deep scowl. Though laughing would not help her situation, hearing her curse in a way she hadn’t even been certain was part of their vocabulary was cause for such hilarity Helga seldom felt.

Glowering, Kida knelt, pointing at her, “Get out now! You gave me a heart attack!”

Laughter poorly restrained, she could not take her eyes from her, “You seem very alive to me. Threatening to kill me and all that considered.”

“I swear by the Heart, once I get my hands on you-“

“Come in then.”

“What?”

Catching her off guard, rage momentarily forgotten, Kida looked at her, eyes wide, mouth opened around words forgotten.

“If you want to get your hands on me so badly, you follow through. Lest I tell your people you are a woman of empty threats.”

Red shot up her neck, covering her cheeks, taking over her ears. Taking a step back, Kida pointed at her again, making to speak, only for her voice to break upon trying. Clearing her throat, she tried again, finding it higher than before.

“You imbecile!”

“Is that all you could come up with? You should join me rather than argue pointlessly.”

No coherent answer left her then, head red as a beet. Helga worried for a moment she had overstepped a line, transgressed in their new friendship. Kida turned around, before with a speed she hadn’t been expecting she launched herself into the water.

Sprayed but wet already, Helga shook her head, sending water everywhere. Watching the spot the princess had disappeared in, heart beating in her throat, Helga could not help the tug it gave, wishing to see her again.

As Kida rose back up, she spit water from her mouth in an arc, let her arms cross before her. Turning, their eyes met. Helga cared neither that she had been caught staring, nor that she kept at it now. Raising a brow, Kida looked at her, smile breaking through the façade she put up.

“What?”

Swallowing, Helga searched her mind for something to say that wasn’t You are gorgeous, or You are gorgeous but with a higher infliction. Any self-respecting woman would have doused the fire in her heart with as much water as all the river supplied her with.

“You got me wet.”

“You are faulting me for that?” with no small amount of incredulity, eyes wide, Kida splashed more water at her.

Diving to evade the splash, Helga took the bait, pushing herself forward, grabbing Kida at the legs and pulled. Muffled, she could hear screams above her, hands coming down to slap at her shoulders. All in vain as her superior strength pulled Kida under. Winding in her grip like a fish the water helped her loosen Helga’s grip, who could not hold on any longer. Swimming back up to take a breath, Helga tried to get to safety. Before she performed a single stroke a weight slammed into her back, triumphant cackling in her ear as arms tightened around her shoulders, legs tangling around her midriff, digging into her stomach. Certain she would be able to throw her off this way, Helga let herself be pulled under, not working against the force. Once they sunk deep enough, she kicked her legs out beneath her, turned her shoulder so that Kida swam beneath her, pushed against the arms around her. Keeping up with the manoeuvre, Kida let go for only a moment to swing herself back on top.

Staring at blue shining brilliantly despite how they were surrounded by it, Helga could not look away, captivated by the beauty. Face scrunched in their struggle for victory, Kida caught her arms before she realized how the body under hers had slackened. Keeping steady, she let her eyes be pulled to Helga’s. Once they met, there were no defences Helga could have hoped to put up – neither did she wish to – words leaving her suddenly tight throat in a rush, confession lost to the river forever.

She would have stayed like this, Kida the last thing she saw, arms warm on her skin despite the surrounding cold. Kida had different plans, however, grip tightening, as she struggled to pull them both to the surface. Stricken by emotion, Helga did not think to move her body, hanging limp in her arms.

Only as air re-entered her system, mind shocked back to the moment did she grasp the situation. Entangling herself from Kida she sought to distance herself, finding that Kida did not let her. Holding tight, she looked at her, eyes squinted, lips pursed.

Emotions rushed through her mind, unable to keep up, none of them half-formed, dying as soon as they reached her lips, which hung open uselessly. It was only at this moment the cold of the river triumphed over her own, shivers raking down her spine. Many responses filled with snark came to mind, yet as she looked down upon Kida she could not bring herself to utter a single one. They remained in this precarious silence, only broken by the sound of their bodies holding them afloat.

Having the princesses undivided attention resting on her had been her sole wish for the past hours, however, finding herself in this position unnerved her, body prickling with something she did not know to name. Unfamiliar with the sensation, her instinct was to flee. Turning her head to the side, she nodded towards the riverbank.

“Let’s go before you catch a cold.”

Pursing her lips, her eyes squinted at her, head tilted slightly. Exposed and raw, it brought her back to last night, knot forming in her chest.

Pushing free from her arms, Helga crossed the river, pulling herself up as she reached the other side. Standing, she shook her head, movement spraying water everywhere. Carding a hand through, she slicked it back, meticulously making sure not a single strand obscured her vision. Kida came to land behind her, wringing her shirt. Once done with that, she pulled her hair free the bun that had already begun to come loose. Following the path of her hands, Helga watched the strands gliding through her fingers.

“If I do get sick, it will be your fault only.”

Pulling at the wet garment clinging to her body, Helga wished to change into something else, regretting her actions only marginally. She would dry with time.

“You were free to join me, I didn’t make you do anything. So, from my point of view, you are at fault.”

Getting up behind her, Kida walked around, stretching her arms above her head, water trailing visible muscle.

“You can be persuasive when you want to be.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Shut up you.”

Warmth reappearing in her chest and stomach, Helga surveyed their surroundings. The river had carried them downstream; she hadn’t even noticed.

“Where are we?”

Glancing at her, Kida walked a few steps.

“This-“ as she said it, she extended both arms to the sides, making a sweeping motion “-Is the High Road.”

Grumbling something about insightfulness, Helga followed her lead, looking to the left and right. Only now did she realise they were standing on a road. Calling it that was gracious, as it was nothing more than an overgrown stone path, many of its parts missing.

“Hail the High Road,” Helga joked, raising a brow as she looked at Kida who only shrugged before turning around.

“It used to be the most important trade route we had. After contact with the outside world was cut off, we had no need for it and so it fell into a state of disrepair.”

“Why are we here?”

Kida stopped in her little spiel, turning around, pointing a finger at her before she held it up in the air, “First of all, you suddenly ran off-“

“You started the race!”

“-Second, I want to show you something.”

Wishing to retort something, Helga came up empty, sure that remarking on the fact she could dispose of her body in peace so far from civilisation would not be welcome.

“Let’s go then. Lead the way.”

The road must have been majestic in a time long past, small reminders of its grandeur remaining. Underneath dust and dirt they must be a brilliant white. They were cracked in places, vines growing in abundance. Most of it had fallen back into the caressing hand of nature.

Canopy above them thinning somewhat, sun shone through, drying their clothes as they went. Kida led them both along the path, careful to step over any root that wound its way along theirs. Helga followed close behind, keeping distance between them.

They came to her unbidden as they walked, thoughts of yesterday. She did not know how to feel. She had revealed her painful past to Kida who had met her with such sympathy she did not know to exist in the world. Painful though it had been, her heart had not been as free as it had beat then. There was a quality to sharing a part of yourself with another that had frightened her for as long as she could remember. Experiencing what she had been put through only strengthened her conviction to stay away from any and all who could pull soul-baring honesty from her.

Then along came Rourke. It had taken time, but he had won her trust. Always honest and upstanding in his convictions. He hadn’t been bothered by her past; neither her flinching cowardice nor her unflinching, bone snapping violence. She saw herself as a coin. Having two sides; one unyielding, punishing all that lay in her way, blind to the pain and hurt she caused, herself had been caused. The other a shivering mess, too afraid of affection and expressions of genuine care she’d rather bite the offered hand. He had believed in her despite those flaws. This had made him her friend.

Only last night had revealed her true nature to her. She was not two parts, separated to keep her bleeding core save, but one being, crumbled and broken in many ways. Lost in darkness and still blind, but not uncaring any more, knowing now she was not alone, would not have to be. There was no dichotomy to her; monster and victim. She was both and they were one. The truth did not fix her. But it revealed to her a way she had not seen before. There was nothing to spurn about her, no part to push away, burry, hit until it lay bleeding. No. She could only move forward by accepting that she was all that she hated about herself and all that she used to be. No sense remained in holding onto the bitter past, digging her claws deeper into the wounds plaguing her. She would heal only once she had come to terms with her own nature. At the core of it she was a person, deeply hurt and scared. She lashed out in ways she knew, experienced firsthand. Not any longer. This, she swore herself, would end.

Thought strengthening her resolve, Helga unclenched her fists. Unsure how long they had walked, Helga sped up, catching up to Kida who had remained quiet and a step ahead. Sidling up beside her, she noticed the flinch in her shoulders. Turning her head to meet her eyes, it was as if they cleared from a deep fog.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

“Do you really need to be so cryptic?”

“If by cryptic you mean mesmerizingly mysterious,” Kida sent her a wink, “Then yes, I must be.”

Groaning, Helga carded another hand through her hair, finding the strands dry as if she had never jumped into the water to begin with. Though it had caught her attention before she did not deem it worthy of further thought (as every issue pertaining her new body had bile rise up the back of her throat), now she did analyse the issue further. Hair and body did not take long to dry. Getting out of the bath yesterday, she barely needed to towel herself down before her body was free of any liquid. It eclipsed her mind how this could be, as she was cold to the touch, not hot.

Now, however, her hair was beginning to come loose from where she had slicked it back, falling into her eyes. Flicking a strand away she contemplated what would be needed to cut through crystal, until Kida seemingly took note of her plight, extending her hand with the blue ribbon she herself had worn before. Accepting gratefully, Helga gathered her strands at the front and on top, binding them so they fell along her back, face free. As she turned to Kida, she found the woman quickly looking away.

Before she was able to remark upon the behaviour something caught her eye. Curiosity piqued; she sidestepped Kida, making her way over. Twenty metre or so from the road, partially obscured by trees and bushes river she glimpsed a stone formation that did not fit what she had seen before. Kida followed.

As Helga reached it, she pulled back big leaves, revealing more of the mysterious object. What she found were stones hewn from the same sandy mass, stacked atop each other and in a row, creating what looked like the rudimentary start of a pyramid. Looking up, she saw it was remarkably well-preserved, stones running out at the top, creating a flat surface on which slim stone pillars throned, holding up another stone slab which might come to a tip, she wasn’t sure as it was too high up to see clearly. All in all, the building must have been about four metres tall and three metres wide. Despite its distinctly different look from the Atlantean buildings she knew, it did not look out of place here.

The outside was fashioned from the same stone as the road, however they were even better preserved, next to no cracks lining them. Only at the very top did Helga think she could see several of them, though they seemed to curiously placed to be natural.

“What is this?”

Awe coloured her voice as she took in the sight. Kida walked up the first few steps, standing higher than her. Flinging out her hands, she grinned.

“Welcome to the temple!”

“Temple?”

“Yes,” nodding, Kida pointed up, “this is a temple. At least I think so.”

“You- You think so?”

Hiding a laugh behind her hands, Kida motioned for her to follow. Hesitantly, Helga placed a boot on stone, finding the material sturdy. Leaning down, she let a hand trail over it, catching on dirt and grime. It felt stable, however. Deciding that it must be in well enough a condition to carry them both if Kida trusted it to climb to the very top, Helga followed.

Ascent made easy by all the little steps built into the stone, they made their way up quickly. Reaching the top, she found Kida had made herself comfortable on what looked to be a pair of well-worn cushions, pointing to another that lay next to hers.

Taking it, Helga contemplated what this reveal meant. This was a place Kida frequented if this was any indication. The side they had climbed lay next to the road, the other was turned to the river they just swam in. Leaves and branches had begun to recede around them as they walked, and this place was nearly free of them, the structure untouched by trees, as if nature had grown about it as a shield, not to take it back into its arms.

“I found this place when I was a child.”

Surveying their surroundings, Helga decided she liked this place. Quiet, away from people. Since when was she fine being alone with her own thoughts?

“I did not come here a lot because it took some time with how little I was, but it was always worth it.”

Leaning over the edge, Helga let a hand glide over the symbols etched into the top row of stones. Not cracks like she had thought before, they were symbols, placed there intentionally. There was a notable difference between them and the Atlantean script. More linear, straight.

“What do these mean?”

“I do not know.”

Intrigued, Helga sat up straight, looking at Kida who seemed entranced by the water.

“This was here before you.”

Now she did look at her, a small smile on her face, eyes impossibly deep, nodding.

“Is it not fascinating that there existed a world before us? A people who lived just as we did. When I discovered this place, I told my parents about it. They laughed it off, saying I was imagining things, making up adventures in my head.”

“Why would they?”

“We are Atlantean.” Kida sighed. It seemed to Helga this simple sentence was meant to convey many more concepts than tangible on the surface. In part, she understood. She had got a brief look into their lives, what it meant to be an Atlantean. How proud they used to be, unshakeable even.

“The world used to be ours, ripe for the taking. There was nothing new to explore, nothing to find. We knew all there was to know.”

Scoffing, Helga picked at a piece of dirt that had got caught beneath her nail, “I know only that I know nothing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a saying we have. I never agreed with it, because it’s stupid. We are precisely who we are only because we know what we know. But after what you told me; I think I do get what it’s trying to say. What a bleak way to look at life.”

Humming, Kida looked at the water again, “Maybe. I cannot be sure. As it stood then, I kept this place a secret. The road was abandoned long ago, and while it was travelled no one ever found the temple. It was all mine.”

“Do you know more of the people who built it?”

“Actually, yes.”

Getting on her knees, Kida pulled Helga without looking at her, leaning over the edge. Concerned – Helga’s first instinct to grab her – her mind rationalised there was no imminent danger. Following along, Helga took her place next to her.

Kida pointed along a row of symbols, tracing over their rigid forms.

“Kez’de.”

“You realize this doesn’t mean anything to me, right?”

Chuckling, Kida knocked their shoulders together, warmth blooming where they touched.

“This was built by the people who called themselves Kez’de. It was a curious incident, that led me to understanding that.”

Raising a brow, Kida took it as a sign to continue, sitting back on her pillows. Helga leaned back as well, shifting against a pillar.

“You already know that we cannot read our own language any more.”

Nodding, Helga felt sympathy. Even imagining not being able to read German any more had her uncomfortable. But an entire civilisation forgetting its tongue? It would have devastating consequences on their culture. And it did.

“Milo showed me some texts he brought written in our tongue and their respective translation to English. He is very talented in that way.”

Helga found herself agreeing. There wasn’t much the little man could do, but engaging with a culture and its peculiarities was a craft he had honed.

“There was one that was a recollection of an excerpt of a story that had been told. It told of a festival which had people in attendance of very different origins. One it mentioned only in passing was a group of night skinned people in colourful garb, known for their stern disposition but love for song and dance. The name they used for them? Khehshdeh.”

“So, one of your ancestors recorded their existence, and you stumbled upon this record by chance?”

“Yes! Is that not incredible?”

Huffing, Helga found herself at a loss for words. She had had a lot to do with history and art the past few years, as had been required for her job. Though she had dealt with the darker side of these wonders, there had always been a part of her that appreciated the ancient worlds and the mysteries they conjured.

“We must not have existed for a long time together, as none of my people remember them. There are no stories that mention them. But still, just the fact that they were here is so…”

She did not finish her sentence, body vibrating with energy. It was the first time, Helga realised, she saw her this excited over something that interested her. Heart swelling, she gave her a smile.

“I think they would like you if they had the chance to meet you.”

“You think so?” voice high with elation, Kida reigned herself in, clearing her throat. Though she continued talking quieter than before, she sounded no less happy, “Maybe they would.”

Silence spread between them. Lapping of the river against the stone, chirping of birds the only sound. It was peaceful. Unused to it, it took Helga a bit to settle down, not finding a comfortable position at all. Kida in contrast sat still like a statue, eyes closed. From her breathing, Helga gathered she was awake, however.

Pebbles dug into her thighs. Normally they would be barely noticeable through not only the fabric of her clothes but also the fact that she was literally made of stone. Only now she had nothing to distract herself with. Her mind no longer a place she was afraid to enter, yet there remained a certain shadow about. Not of her own volition did she wish to roam it. Something was still off.

In the time they had spent here they had both dried completely. Yet the river did look enticing. Helga contemplated going for a swim when a question began to nag at her. Unwilling to keep quiet any longer, Helga spoke, voice not more than a whisper, yet it seemed to her the world had gone quiet to listen in as well.

“Why did you take me here?”

At first, she felt she might have misjudged her perception, that Kida had been asleep all along. Only after a few moments of waiting with bated breath did she crack open her eyes, lazy smirk flashing on her face.

“I was not aware I needed a reason.”

Grinding her teeth, Helga could not for the life of her figure out why the answer set her so on edge. They shared a nice moment. Kida had been kind to her, despite her not deserving any of it. She had meant to kiss her, back in her room. Prepared for it, ready to face disgust, humiliation all of it if only it meant she could experience a fraction of what had been coined love. Kida had rejected her then, not out of some hidden desire to see her beaten down but because she did not want to impose on her feelings that might be misplaced after she had opened up to her. It had been considerate in every sense of the word but stung now. Was she not enough? Doubt hit her with its full force after having been dispelled before.

She was a product of war. There was nothing pretty or good or kind about her, not like there was with Kida. Those qualities had been beaten out of her long ago. She had wished for it to stay that way as long as she remembered. Who was Kida to proclaim the opposite to be true?

She could never be what the future queen wanted her to be. All she had left to her name was a history of spilled blood and dirtied knuckles. Her mouth tasted of decay and despair. There could be no happy end for someone like her. She should have died in the volcano. A miserable end to a miserable life.

*

There was not a lot that caught Kida off-guard. Not because she was always on the lookout for danger, or because she had so much experience with life there simply was nothing that could possibly surprise her, but because she thought herself to be very perceptive.

In her short time with Helga she had come to the conclusion that though the woman hid as many abysses inside her as it took to hollow out a person completely, her reactions were incredibly simple to figure out. She was so deeply traumatised by her past there only ever remained two options to any genuine display of affection. Fighting until she was a bloody mess, the other rendered into a teared piece of nothingness. Or throwing herself into the display with no regard to her own feelings and what it would do to her.

Now, she was ready to fight. Kida did not know what had brought this sudden switch about, but she resented it. Like a snapping animal she sat before her, limbs curled in, protecting herself at any cost. Only she was not protecting, not really, but destroying what might be. Kida had to make her understand.

“When I was a child, I climbed a tree no one before me dared to climb. It was too tall, they said. I thought they were cowards and that I would be the one to show them it could be done. A child screamed for its parents, and everyone crowded around the tree, crying for me to get down. I fell and broke a rib. A man carried me all the way to the palace and the doctor. Smeroosme took care of me. My mother came to read me stories. Khehn brought me fruits and my father gifted me a little handsewn blanket to keep me warm.”

Helga did not truly look at her, eyes clouded, chest heaving, but it was fine, because Kida kept going, and she knew they would be alright. They had to be.

“What I want to say is that I did something stupid. Reckless, even. I could have died that day. I would if not for my people. The child that called for its parents, the man whose face I cannot even remember any more, but who carried me all the way. Smeroosme, my parents and Khehn. They all did their part and helped me. I would not be here now without them. And since then, I have tried to repay the favour countless times.”

Taking a breath, she reached out a hand, laying it on top of one of her curled fists, shaking with emotion. Voice quietening to a whisper, Kida leaned forward, swiping a hair from her forehead that had come loose from her bun. Puffs of breath warmed her lips.

“It is only now I realise how wrong I was. There is no need to repay any favour. What they did was because they wanted to help me. No hidden desire, no second thought. Only the wish to do the right thing. And that is also why I have brought you here, Helga. I like you. And I see how hurt you are. I want to share what kindness I have with you. Because you deserve it just as much as I did then.”

She had told the story to Milo before, not to teach him a lesson about kindness, but to show him how heedless she used to be. It felt different now. Something about sharing this part of her made her chest bloom with warmth.

Helga looked up, eyes clearer than before, mouth open as if to say something, yet no words left her. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, she strained against letting them fall, cheeks etched with pressure.

Without thinking, Kida leaned forward, embracing her. Helga let herself melt into the contact, clinging to her, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated, voice small, broken.

Shushing her, Kida squeezed her back.

“You are going to be okay. I know it.”

“How?”

“Because,” Kida caught her chin in her hand, holding her gaze, “I will not let your story end any other way.”

There was another moment of breathless silence. Kida was sure Helga would take the plunge and kiss her. Ready for it, expecting it even, she was surprised when Helga pulled back. Only the smile on her face softened the blow, a small thing, eyes having regained their glowing quality.

“Thank you.”

Sitting there, not knowing how to proceed after what had happened, Kida only stared at her. Had he misread the situation? Chasing any budding doubts away, Helga let one of her hand’s envelop her own, squeezing once, before letting go again.

Choosing to carry on with dignity, Kida returned to her spot on the cushions. Helga shuffled over, letting her weight rest against her.

There was a quiet trust to it Kida valued. She concluded this was the best outcome. Before, she had assumed Helga knew only two ways of dealing with affection. She was wrong. She had very much chosen not to indulge her desire despite having the chance to. Kida would not have rejected her this time. This control was good for both of them. It stung, anyway.

Breathing evening out beside her, she knew Helga had fallen asleep. Keeping as still as possible, Kida got herself a little more comfortable, before leaning her head against Helga’s shoulder, appreciating the comfort the closeness offered.

It was not long until they had both fallen into light slumber.

*

Waking up, her chest felt light and unburdened, yet her mind felt strangely heavy and uncomfortable. It was hard to describe, but it was as if an oppressive presence slithered through the deepest recess, filling nooks and crannies. It turned her stomach inside out.

Shivering, Helga stood up, not paying much attention to Kida, who was sitting next to her, eyes still closed. Her left side was yet warm, a testament to their position. It made her wish their situation was different, her not beholden to the Heart and Kida to her people.

Then it struck her how selfish it was to wish this. But she could not bring herself to care. It was what she wanted. And Kida had been ready to accept her, had offered herself up. But Helga knew she could not accept. There was still too much uncertainty, not just in regard to them, but their situation. The yet unknown threat of Atlantis. Her people. Her family. Helga’s crew.

Climbing down the temple, she settled on the other side, bunching up her pants to let her legs dangle in the water.

Thoughts about this threat occupied her exhausted mind. They still did not know what it was, or when it would strike. It could be anything. Anyone, even. Maybe even Helga herself. The Heart may have chosen her to protect the city, but she had first-hand experience of what she was capable of now that she held the power of a god in her hands. It had taken no strength at all, and she had nearly killed Kida and herself. Who was to say she could not do that again, but this time on a massive scale?

Thinking about what the Heart had done to her made anger beat in rhythm with her heart, fire flaring up. Yet as her mind ventured to curse the Heart, the thought forming in her minds eye, it was squashed just as quickly, cold dousing her fire.

And at once she knew she wasn’t alone any more.

“Hey.”

Letting herself fall next to her, Kida tipped one foot in the water, the other crossed before her.

“Kida.”

Clipped, emotion compressed, not allowing herself to feel panic, Helga slowly turned her head, scared any fast movement might make her situation worse, no matter how illogical that might be. A prey animal caught in the eye of a predator.

Reacting to her unusual tone, Kida turned as well, eyes squinted in concern.

“What is going on?”

Helga knew the answer. She wished she didn’t.

“Kida, Milo told us you were not the first to be possessed by the Heart.”

“What makes you think of that now?”

Still not grasping the seriousness of the situation, Helga took a deep breath meant to steady her, only to feel the heavy presence in her mind move again. Flinching, she let out a whine, pressing one hand to her temple. It felt like a snake slithered through the deep recess, a presence at once so overwhelming and cold it sent her entire body on edge, teeth clenching against the pressure building up.

“Helga? Helga, talk to me!”

“I feel-“ there was no way she could impart on Kida the knowledge she held.

There was still so much she had not told her.

Kida said something else. It was a prayer, meant for the Heart and only the Heart. She could not know it listening as well.

“Kida,” she lay a clenched fist on her leg, the other she kept pressed to her temple, alleviating some of the sudden pain.

“Who else was possessed by the Heart?”

“My- My mother. When the water came the Heart selected her. She melded with it to protect us.”

“What happened then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You protected your people, and it let you come back. Why is that?” it was not said with either malice or scrutiny, only pure despair. Kida had to understand. Helga had to make her.

“I only melded with it for a few hours. When I protected the city, I had been a part of it for less than a day. My mother-“

Gasping, Kida flinched back as if she had been struck.

“So, you understand now.”

“Helga, no…”

Wide-eyed, mouth agape, Kida looked how Helga felt. At the same moment, the presence in her mind gathered itself, rising up, up, then spilling forth like a wave, after having stayed hidden the entire time. Blanketing all there was to her.

So, you finally show yourself.

Be at peace. Know that we are here to save.

Cold and dark was what the voice of the Heart felt like, because it was less a voice than a feeling. There was nothing in her mind but this one thing, all-encompassing and beautiful as it was terrifying.

Ich dachte, ich hätte dir bereits gesagt, dass du verschwinden sollst.

There is nowhere for us to go as you are us, and we are you.

Fuck off. I told you that. And I really thought you did. But you just hid inside my head and let me play pretend, you sick fucking thing.

You have a duty. We will see it fulfilled.

Before she could answer, the sudden contact of a hand on her head ripped her from her thoughts, Heart settling back down. Not hidden now, lying in plain view. How Helga wished to strangle it.

Kida knelt before her, both hands pressed to her head, entire face pulled in a grimace.

Bright light blinding, Helga squinted her eyes. Everything around her was turning and swirling.

Kida’s lips moved, yet she could not make out a sound. Only as she began shaking her shoulders did feeling gradually return to her, fingertips tingling with sensation against coarse stone. Shuffling, Helga unfolded the limbs she had tucked to her chest.

“Are you okay? Can you hear me? Helga, you scared me.”

Reaching for her, she met her halfway, pulling her in. Exhaling shakily, Kida tightened her grip, muttering something in her shoulder she could not make out.

“It was the Heart.”

Sitting back, Kida let her eyes inspect her, jaw tight.

“What happened?”

“I thought it was gone,” Helga began, carding one hand through the free hair at her neck. The spot tingled as she touched it. Where it had split open against stone what seemed a lifetime ago.

Despair squeezed her heart. She truly did believe she had been free, finally. Never having to bow to another’s will ever again.

“But it’s not. It was just waiting to reveal itself again,” now she looked at her, tears gathering in Kida’s eyes, “I don’t think I’m going to make it out alive-“

“Do not dare end that sentence.”

Pressing a hand to her mouth Helga would have slapped it away had it been anyone but her. Raw emotion in her voice, shoulders shaking, she made for a sad picture. Helga understood now why.

It was in her nature, just as it was in hers to destroy and be destroyed. Ein Teufelskreis. She would always take and take and take until all her sins burned her from within and Kida would always be the one to try and stop her, show her a better way, ignoring that this was her fate. Helga had to make it clear there was no evading it.

“You were melded for less than a day. But it took your mother, and it will take me too.”

“You cannot be sure.”

Now, Kida really was crying, tears spilling past her cheeks, yet she cared not for them, only staring at her. Face tightening, she lifted her hands to her shoulders, gripping so tight Helga felt pressure through the stone of her skin.

“I have seen it, Kida. I saw my death. Without the Heart, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

As if burned she flinched back, hands clutched before her chest, shaking her head, “What are you saying?”

Pity filled her heart as she saw her in such a condition. She did not deserve to suffer because of her. Leaning over, Helga took her hands in hers, trying to relax her own. Her end had always been close in sight. She was a solider after all. Her life was death and war and cannon fire. She was the fodder for their warmongering, the kindling for their greed. If people like her existed, there could not be the eternal peace they promised. The faceless men who fed them lies and bought their souls in exchange for sullied glory.

Still, seeing her death so quickly approaching unnerved her. She could have made her peace with it, but there was no honour to be found here. It would be painful and slow, and she would forever remain divorced from herself. Maybe god would take mercy on her soul.

“I didn’t remember it, but when Thoash joined my dream, the Heart revealed to me that I had died. It made me relieve the moment,” pushing the words out felt like moving stones, while weight had been bound to her arms and legs, and she was wading through sand. How she wished to keep them locked inside her forever, shoved in a deep part of her brain never to be examined again, forgotten. But Kida deserved to know the truth. For how could she truly claim to only want to help if the origin of her quest stayed a secret?

“But you- You are here! You cannot be… how could you be dead?”

“It was the Heart that revived me so that I may do its bidding. And after the dream I thought it was gone, I told it to leave me alone, but instead it was just biding its time until it showed itself to me again. Kida, it’s been in my mind the entire time, watching, waiting. It’s always there.”

Sinking into herself, Helga felt herself crushed beneath anger and despair. She would never be free again, wouldn’t even be alive without the interference of the Heart. Though they scared her, the words left her anyway, “I fear without its influence I would simply die again. As soon as I have fulfilled my purpose.”

At once Kida rushed forth, enclosing her in her arms, squeezing so tight, Helga knew if she wasn’t made of stone there’d be bruises along her sides. Her name was all she muttered, again, again, a prayer in its own right, more holy than the name of the Heart ever promised to be. Yet there would be no healing salvation, only damning glory in knowing she died protecting the one she held dear.

“Is there no way?”

Whispered words grazing her ear, Helga trembled. Oh, how she wished there to be a loophole. But this was the path meant for her. Her god abandoned her, another took its place. She spurned them, yet they held her in their palms. There was no leaving. No other option. Kida must have known it too from the way her shoulders shook with sobs.

She felt then, it all but confirmed her suspicions. Pulling back, Kida settled herself onto the ground again, leaning against the step behind her, crossing her legs.

“I cannot believe you died.”

“You must have known it.”

“How?”

“Suspected then. No one can survive an erupting volcano without divine intervention.”

“So, this is it then? You are going to do what the Heart tells you to and then simply die?”

“You are making it sound like that’s what I want to do.”

Where before she felt crushed, the anger now rejuvenated her. What was Kida playing at? It had never been her wish to play any part in this, she knew that. Where was this blame coming from?

“Then why are you doing it? If it is not your wish, leave.”

“You are making it sound like it’s my choice to make! It’s not,” burning, throat closed, mind scrambling to keep up. How could Kida so horribly misinterpret her words.

Both voices rising, they glared at the other. Chest burning with horrible anger, Helga felt emotions bubbling over, unable to contain them any longer.

“Is it not?”

“Kida, for fuck's sake, I told you it’s what the Heart wants, not me! I don’t want this any more than you want to be the fucking queen!”

A misstep and a gross one at that. Helga had noticed her discomfort whenever anyone brought up the subject. Though she knew not everything it was clear enough for her to see there was much more baggage to the title than Kida was willing to share. But how could Helga hold herself back when Kida was slandering her now? Still, it made her take in a breath, stilling after her mistake. Blood simmering with anger she felt it constrained in her veins, unwilling to hurt her further.

Kida looked at her. But her face was not at all pulled in the same scowl, not a trace of anger remaining. Instead, her mouth hung open, eyes wide. Feeling physically ill, all Helga wanted to do was scramble away, give Kida space. She had not meant to hurt her in this way.

“How did you do that?”

Cocking her head to the side, brows drawn tight, Helga gave her a confused look.

Leaning forward, Kida stared at her, eyes burning, voice tight, “How did you understand me?”

Mind unable to catch up, Helga blurted a, “What?”

In one fluid motion, Kida knelt before her, head caught between her hands, grip tight. Drilling into her, Kida’s gaze almost hurt. Helga wished to pull away yet found no give in the grip.

“Helga, answer me.”

Skin prickling at whatever was happening – and not in a good way – her tongue snaked over teeth.

“I don’t-“

“-No,” interrupting her, Kida turned her head up further, peered down at her. There was something about her gaze that was not dangerous per se, but Helga felt all too unnerved by.

“You understood what I said. But you cannot. I spoke in Atlantean.”

“What?”

Feeling stupid for asking the same question again, brows shooting up, Helga tensed her shoulders. What did she mean by that?

“What I said, it was in Atlantean. And you did not just understand me, you responded in it as well.”

“No,” breathing the word, Helga felt her heart still in her chest, body seizing up.

She was dead. What remained of her was only a shell the Heart housed it. All that remained of her was long gone. No matter what she told herself, she knew it to be a lie. She wished to fight the Heart in her own body, yet remained woefully weak in comparison. It hurt to know how far this had gone. Her end was in sight, yet she had hoped to meet it with some measure of dignity. Knowing the Heart had assimilated her to such a degree she not only understood but did not even notice her understanding of Atlantean only served to illustrate how far gone she was.

If the Heart were to abandon her now, would there even be a part of her left that had not been touched by it? Would there be a way for her to rebuild herself?

Heart racing, blood rushing in her ears, Helga strained against the hold of her face. Kida let her go, hands falling to her chest, pressing against the fabric.

Wheezing, each breath coming harder and harder, Helga felt her grasp on reality fading, as fingers sunk into the skin of her belly, bunching delicate fabric.

“No.”

Repeating it again, again, again. Kida spat it out like it was something bitter at first, but the word quickly turned into a ferocious whisper.

“No!”

Like a promise she howled it to the sky, nature witness to her oath.

Something rose in her stomach, up her chest, to her throat. Hot, it burned the skin it touched. There was nowhere for the energy to go as it accumulated, turning over and over in a blazing hot ball of pure, crackling energy that threatened to pull her under, chest constricted so tight, not a single breath able to enter.

Sneering, Kida pulled herself up, fingers balling into fists at her sides, sneering down at her.

Sinking into her lap, Kida beat her hands into her chest, over and over and over again, sobbing all while she screamed at the universe, demanding it to changer her fate.

Surging forward, she caught her arms in her hands, pulling them down as they shot up again, capturing red cheeks. Pulling her closer, the rolling energy in her throat exploded out, Helga’s lips clashing onto Kida’s.

The kiss was electric, every contact of their lips had sparks shooting through her veins, blood boiling hotter with each moment spent locked in this touch. Kida’s lips were chapped and tasted not only of the salt of her tears but of that of the ocean. It left her starved for more, Helga doubting there could ever be a point in time when she would be sated, longing to devour her whole. Kida pressed herself closer, tilting her head to the right. Letting her tongue slip out, Helga tasted the chapped skin of her lips, groaning as they made contact.

One of Kida’s hands found its way into her hair. It moved up slowly, along her nape at first. So occupied was she with the intoxicating taste of her, Helga barely noticed the move. It was her subconscious making her flinch back, hissing as if hurt. Images of her death far from her mind at this moment, yet the bone-shattering feeling creeping in. Kida noticed of course, whispering a quick apology into her lips, hand skipping over the skin, coming to rest further up.

Not wanting the moment to be over so quickly, Helga shook off the feeling, concentrating solely on what lay before her, fire not dulled a bit. Winding around her strands, one hand pulled. Letting out an involuntary moan at the touch, heat surging up her body, Helga kissed her again, letting her hands sprawl along her back, pulling her even closer. Kida welcomed the contact, deepening the kiss even further.

Explosive energy from her body dispelled, Helge felt herself calm. Kida pulled back, head resting against hers, chest heaving, each pant hot on her face. Licking along her lip, Helga thought they tasted of her.

Eyes closed, Kida drew in deep breaths, hands coming down to rest in her lap. Opening them, black greeted her, pupils blown wide. Seeing herself reflected in them, Helga saw how tousled her hair looked, shirt having ridden up a bit, lips pulled in a barely noticeable smirk.

While Kida continued gasping for oxygen, Helga chuckled, holding up one hand to caress her cheek. Bathing in the afterglow of the moment, she treasured the silence, broken only by the rapid beating of her heart and Kida catching her breath.

Watching her, Helga saw how Kida slowly pulled herself together again, a smile playing on her lips, eyes squinting at her. She looked happy.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

There was no way she would apologise for a kiss like that. Her entire body felt like all burdens had been lifted, mind pleasantly quieted for the moment.

“And I would not have wished for you to.”

Letting her head sink into the crook of her neck, Kida sighed. Feeling her breath tickle along her skin, Helga wrapped her arms around her. Having someone on her side for once felt good. And more than anything, she hoped for this to last a little longer. They both deserved a little more bliss.

“We will find a way. I promised you.”

Throat closing around the rejection Helga wished to give her (not out of malice but to soften the eventual blow that would come once she would meet her end) the words died before she could give them breath. Instead, she buried her face in her hair and breathed in.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

False hope, all of it. But sometimes, she had learned, soldiers needed a shred of anything to hold onto as the battlefield turned to their disfavour. She would grant them both this brief respite. They had fought enough.

*

They remained in this position for some time, Kida melting into the embrace. She had not expected for Helga to kiss her so suddenly. There had been a look in her eyes, something so deeply fierce as she had never seen before. It had set her alight, made her even more desperate to find a way to keep her alive.

The kiss had been like the eruption of a volcano; unstoppable and ravaging. Subconsciously, Kida licked her lips, hoping to find a trace of Helga. Sure, she would never forget her taste, there was nothing she wanted more than another chance to have her. Helga tasted the way she looked, dangerous and violent, a cocktail so potent it left her hot all over.

As the sun began to dip they had moved, laying sprawled along the bottom steps of the temple, legs dangling in the water. Kida played with the fingers of her right hand, fascinated by the sheer strength they held, despite how relatively small they were. Slender and well-built she wished to have them caress her back or cheek again, longing for the spark passed between them before.

They had not spoken for some time, Kida’s mind blissfully empty except for thoughts of those full, soft lips, so Helga speaking up came as a surprise.

“I’m sorry for my words.”

Turning her head, Kida threw her a questioning glance. Helga returned it with a remorseful frown, “When I said you would not want to be queen.”

“Ah,” Kida sighed heavily, “You need not be. You were right.”

“I suspected as much. It doesn’t justify pointing it out though.”

Shrugging, Kida turned on her side, closer to Helga who mimicked her position.

“I truly do not want to be queen. I never wanted to be. I knew of course that I would have to take on the throne one day, but Tekh and I used to joke my father would live forever, out of stubborn will alone. I did not expect for him to die like this.”

It was all she could bring herself to say on the matter, so much left unsaid still.

Grief is a curious thing. She had grieved before; her mother. When she had died, she had been inconsolable, locking herself in her room for much longer than the designated three-day period. Her father had been of no help then, only furthering their divide, pushing her deeper into crushing despair.

Their relationship had always been difficult but in her youth, it had at least been joined by the certainty that he did love her. He told her seldomly but showed it through the gifts he brought her and his leniency when it came to her less than befitting behaviour. After her mother’s death he had turned cold like a hewn stone. Behaving in much the same way it was reason for them to crash again and again, disagreeing on most topics. While he seemed resigned to the end of Atlantis, leading it on by putting a stop to standardised school lessons, losing interest in the fields of research their people followed and spurning even the attempt of regaining knowledge of their written language and subsequent technological advancements.

Kida stood for progression, wishing for nothing more than her people to survive. Not in dirt and dust, through scraps and by sheer goodwill, but of their own strength. Every step towards their doom she fought her father. Dragging her heels, she hoped to delay what to many seemed the inevitable. She had wished for the crown on multiple occasions, not for the burden it would bring, but the chance to finally lead her people into a new age.

Now her people had gained another chance, the only inevitable: her taking the crown. She could not do it. Her father might not have been perfect, but he had wanted to be king. She did not want to be queen. Confided to the palace.

She had spent three days in her room, locked away from the people who were as busy grieving as she was. Truthfully however, she did not remember much of the time. It was like a haze around the memories. Whenever she thought of them, nothing came to mind. Only – and this she knew with absolute certainty that it resonated in her very bones, spooked the breath from her chest – that her kingdom would be better off now. She loved her father, but he had not been a good king. She loved the king, but he had not been a good father. And so, there was only indifference in her heart when she thought of them.

Helga had told her of her own family. Her parents’ betrayal. As she spoke of them, emotions bubbling over, Kida had realised she did not share the same conviction. Her father was gone and though that did make her feel somewhat sad, there was no hole in her chest, no emptiness that needed to be filled. Only her fear of the crown remained. And this, she knew, could not be shaken off so easily.

“Must you be queen then?”

The question was as stupid as it was a revelation. Of course, she had to become queen. She was the last of the Atlantean royalty. There was no one but her to claim the throne. Yet any one of her future subjects might be better suited to rule than her. Cruel was the sting of irony as it penetrated her chest, blood seeping into every hidden part of her. This would be her life now, bleeding for her people until she had nothing left to give.

Finding Helga’s piercing blue eyes, she held her gaze, sighing, “There is no one but me.”

“Why?”

In truth, explaining it was not difficult, but Kida lacked the strength to do it now, only shrugging her shoulders, “There are rules.”

“Fuck the rules.”

Unable to hold back the tired chuckle, Kida shuffled closer, leaning against her again. Though hard and cold, Helga was nothing like her father, radiating instead a quiet confidence and promise of safety she had not experienced before.

“Impressive, coming from you.”

“Excuse me? I was always a rule breaker. You think I would have ended up in this position if I’d always followed the orders I was given?”

Not needing a moment to think over her answer, she sent her a small smile, squinted her eyes, “No, definitely not.”

Sitting up, a dark thought crossed her mind. Helga – sensing her changing mood – followed along. Kida pulled her feet from the water, crossing them before her. It was the middle of brehwkhdeh. The sun had long since moved from high in the sky, hanging much lower now, but she remained warm, air comfortably warm.

“Are you alright?”

“I fear,” Kida began, carding a hand through her open hair, “That there is more I have to tell you.”

“What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, fingers fidgeting in her lap, Kida looked at the woman at her side. Taking her in, eyes so brilliantly blue they seemed to glow and skin to match, Helga looked to be out of this world. And she was. She had become mixed up in something that had never been about her to begin with. If someone saw her, they might think her impenetrable, a fortress in the form of a woman. But Kida had seen the truth, had seen how sharp she cried, how hot she hated and despaired like with a dread Kida herself had not felt yet. She was strong because she was weak. She might not know it herself yet, but she would. Kida would make sure of it. She would not perish, not while she still drew her breath.

There was, nevertheless, something that scared her above all else. The Heart. And Kida understood, now. Her relationship – or rather her peoples – could not be described as anything less than complicated. It had been through the Heart they had been able to access power, invent new technologies. Their progress had been born out of a drive to expand, and the Hearts wish to see its people thrive.

They had taken it too far however and ended up destroying not only the world around them but themselves as well. What had started as the expansion of a steadily increasing population had warped into the warmongering of an ever-lusting people.

Their recent reconciliation had been the product of thousand of years of suffering and cultural decline. She did not want to admit it as the Heart had done much more good than bad (and it had after all been their own hubris which had let it to abandoning them), but there were times in the past where she thought their fate – and the Heart by extension – cruel. Was leaving them to a fate worse than death really a fitting punishment?

And now Helga was wrapped up in this as well. Worst of all, she was suffering the most, as the Heart had sought her out to be a direct vessel for its will.

Hearing Helga mention what had happened back in her bedroom, when Thoash and her had joined together in the dream, had the events after sorting themselves into place. Vital knowledge which had missed before made what happened seem much more comprehensive now. And Helga deserved to know what had transpired.

“You remember the dream.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget it even if I tried.”

Taking a sharp intake of breath, Kida avoided her gaze.

“What about it?”

“There is...” unsure how to proceed, Kida pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

Helga, taking note of her behaviour slid over, letting their hips bump together. Knowing this was not about her but the woman beside her, Kida took a steadying breath.

“The dream did not end well, as you know. It was like you were gathering all energy in the room around you until it exploded. When you were laying on the ground, I thought you were dead.”

Looking down, Helga tapped a finger on the ground, lip caught between her teeth.

“The guards said you would not make it. They brought Thoash and Milo to Smeerosme while I stayed there with you. I thought were dead,” throat tightening, Kida pushed against memories threatening to resurface. What had happened back then had been horrible, she had done her best to ban those image – Helga lying still on the ground, covered in her own blood – from her mind.

“But you did wake up. However, you were not the same.”

Tilting her head, Helga looked at her, brows scrunched. Thinking over how best to deliver her next words, Kida decided to simply get them out as quickly as possible, not wishing to stall any longer.

“You were shaken up, completely out of your mind.”

Hissing, Helga pulled her left arm closer, cradling it to her chest. Kida could not help but notice it was the same that many days ago exploded in red cracks, nearly killing them both.

“I tried to get you to calm down, but something was happening that I had neither control over nor insight into.”

“What happened then?”

No one should ever carry the burden of telling someone they had tried to take their own life. Kida knew now after what Helga had told her about that night that it might not have been her however, who had made the decision. She had been witness to her own death- If that was not ground for mind-bending insanity, then nothing was. She could not fault her for trying to end her life then and there, no matter how nonsensical the notion seemed to her. A desperate person would take any measure necessary to secure their freedom. It was what spending time with Helga taught her.

“You sprang away from me and tried to throw yourself from my window.”

It sounded crass, which it was. The entire night had been an entire nightmare, one she had finally felt like she had woken up from. She did not wish to revisit it, yet this was something she felt she needed to do. Helga deserved to know what happened.

Silence beside her unnerving, Kida turned, wary of what she might find.

Helga sat next to her, left arm held close to her chest. The grip was not protecting, but so tight her nails dug into blue stone. Maybe Kida could not chip away at it, but she herself definitely had the power to hurt herself. Eyes glassy in their absence, Kida pulled at her right arm, trying to pry it off. Hold strong it took significant effort to wrestle it free, Helga not reacting at all. Once she freed the limb, inspecting it for any damage, movement next to her caught her off-guard.

Turning slowly, Helga’s face looked straight at her. Void of emotion, eyes flat and empty she made for a scary sight. Shivering, Kida suppressed a more visible flinch only barely.

“I remember it. I thought I had forgotten, but no. There was so much blood. It was clogging my mouth, nose, ears, eyes. I tried to scream, but I kept on choking on it, wanted to reach out to something, but there was nothing. I was all alone.”

Missing her usual warm but clipped tone, Kida trembled as the image took over her mind. Helga, body contorted into that of a fearful animal, all instincts shoved to the side as she was drowning alive in her own blood.

“My mind kept screaming and screaming and there was nothing inside it but death. It was so so hot; I felt like I was burning alive. I wanted it to be over, to stop feeling the pain. I wanted it to end.”

There had been a switch in her behaviour that night. A single farce of calm before she had exploded, all wild anguish and feverish panic. An animal let loose.

No words could be said to alleviate any of what Helga must be feeling at this moment. Deciding the only way, she could help was by offering her comfort, Kida opened her arms, giving Helga ample time to back away if she wished to do so. Staying rooted to the spot, Kida wrapped her arms around her. Warm against her cool skin, she hoped it would help.

They sat like that for a long time, Helga quietly letting herself be embraced, but not returning the gesture. Once her arms had grown stiff, legs having long since fallen asleep, there was movement again. Strong arms shaking off their tension, she laid her head down, resting it in the dip of her shoulder.

Careful to avoid the spot over which’s touch she had reacted badly before, Kida scratched her head, keeping the move light but persistent. Other hand kneading into her shoulders, along her spine. Feeling muscles loosening beneath her touch, happy to note her ministrations had a pleasurable effect, Kida smiled.

If anything, this only served to further convince her just how strong Helga was, both mentally and physically. Would there ever be a person to withstand the wish of the Heart and live to tell the tale, it would be Helga, she decided then.

*

They had returned to the palace late in the evening, dusk painting the sky orange and pink. Though Helga had wished to take more of Kida’s time, the princess was still beholden to her duties. Having undeniably neglected them in the past days, she had apologized to Helga for having to leave her and confer with her inner circle. Helga did not begrudge her this, as she had had Kida to herself for an entire day, more than she had ever thought possible.

Still, being alone now after having spent almost every minute in her company for the past days was something she first had to get used to again. Surprising, after all Helga usually preferred solitude to the presence of others.

Making her way through the palace halls, her own footsteps the only sound far and wide, she let herself replay the day. It had been an incredibly bold move to kiss Kida. Convinced she returned her feelings; she had not been able to hold herself back. Seeing Kida so worked up over her served injustice had opened her eyes. She did care. Not only on a surface level, or as a means to an end, but fully and wholly.

It had given her hope there might be more such moments in the future, if the Heart and this invisible threat permitted it. After what she had learned today the matter pressed on her mind greatly. Finally, having regained her sanity – mind not being pulled apart any second of the day – felt good. But knowing the Heart was in there with her, ready to overtake any independent action she sought to do scared her greatly. There was only so much she could take.

Knowing now she had stayed melded with it so long she understood Atlantean without even taking note of it only served to highlight the severity of the situation. Kida had been one with the Heart for less than a day, safely returned to her body. Was there even a body left for her to return to? Or would she disintegrate once she had fulfilled her purpose?

Thoughts filling her mind, she turned a corner, colliding with a body. Not knocked off her balance, she caught sight of who was stumbling back before her, face pulling into a sneer as she recognised the commander.

He wore the same uniform as last time, white hair pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head. Beside him walked two guards, one she did not recognise, the other the very same young one he had admonished in their last meeting. Gdemohuergoas.

Shoulders squared; head held high, Helga hoped to slip past them without another word, unwilling to face them after what happened the last time. They had a different plan in mind as the commander caught himself, righting his posture.

“Watch where you are going, runt!” snapping at her, she knew at once he was speaking Atlantean, as he had mistaken her for a lowly guard.

Hoping to keep it that way, jaw clenched shut tightly, she continued walking. As she made her way around him, however, a laugh rang out, which had shivers rake down her back. A hand shot out, arm barring her way forward.

Coming to a sudden stand, she followed it to the shoulder, then up to the face. Met with his ugly sneer, she wished to punch him solely for inconveniencing her.

“What do we have here?” drawling the words out, he leaned forward.

Eyes raking up and down, she felt him undressing her. Skin crawling at being evaluated like a wet slab of meat, she pulled herself as upright as possible. Tall for even western standards, height usually enough to intimidate most men, this one barely caught the message.

Though she had a few centimetres on him, he did not care, throwing her another one of his dirty smiles, teeth flashing in the light emitted from the walls. The necklace around his neck glowed, pulsing without rhythm and Helga felt herself reminded she could not risk a physical confrontation. The Heart made her loss inevitable. It was always watching.

Only option left was trying to diffuse the situation, getting herself safely as far away from him as possible and locking herself in Kida’s bedroom.

“Too shy to speak now? I remember last time you were not so easy to shut up.”

Both guards chuckling at his comment, they stepped closer, emboldened. Helga felt herself be pushed further into the wall, both hallways cut off, making a quick exit impossible.

“The princess told me she had sent all soldiers out to survey the land, make sure no threat makes its way inside without an alarm raised.”

“Oh yes,” taking another half step closer, there was barely any distance left between them. His voice betrayed his words, distinctly steeped in sarcasm, “The princess ordered a lot of things, in the past days, did she not?”

Throwing the younger guard at his side a glance, Gdemohuergoas visibly nervous after being addressed directly, not having anticipated playing such a role.

“Not all of what she said was smart though,” sighing, he raised the hand not blocking her way to scratch his neck, shrugging, “She is young after all. And not yet queen.”

Bumping into the wall, she had been encircled. Fingers twitching at her sides, she tried to keep her cool. Everything about this situation had her blood spike, heart beating against her rib cage. Not having drawn his sword yet, she could simply grab his arm, spin him around, then throw him to the ground and make a run for it. It seemed so easy in her head. Knowing if she tried such a move, the Heart’d kill her faster than he could beg for mercy, she kept her hands at her side, trembling under the pressure it took to keep still.

Mistaking her silent, strained form as a sign she feared him, the commander closed in further, invading her personal space. Head snapping back so harshly it audibly knocked against wall, they burst into laughter.

“Now, now, no need to panic like that,” he whispered, breath smelling like that of a rotten man, “We are all friends here after all.”

“What do you want,” grinding out words between clenched teeth took more work than she wished to spend on them.

Casting a sidelong glance at the boy to his right, he raised a brow. Met with an empty stare, scoffing, he turned back.

“As she is still young, the princess does not always make decisions in the best interest of her people,” hand gliding down his side, catching on the pommel of his sword, Helga drew in a quick breath.

Not unnoticed, as his eyes zeroed in on the movement, watching her throat bop up and down. Tongue slowly coming out to wet his lips, it took everything in Helga not to spit in his face.

“Last time we met I seem to remember she made a decision she will definitely come to regret in the future. And as such cannot be the case, I have taken it upon myself to correct this mistake.”

Every muscle in her body tensed to the brink, ready to act at a moments notice, all that held her back the knowledge if she harmed even a hair on his body the Heart would make her end an excruciating one.

“We were interrupted last time, but the captain is not here to save you now.”

Chest burning, blood turning into liquid fire, she wished to disintegrate him with a single stare.

“I ask you again,” sneering, peering down at him, there was nothing but deep, deep hatred in her eyes. How dare he make her feel threatened.

“What do you want from me.”

Not laughing this time, he leaned in instead, face only a fraction from hers. Wishing to pull away, she stood her ground, not letting him scare her off further. Besides, there was nowhere for her to go, cold stone digging into her back.

Opening his mouth to answer, she did not know what to expect. Only, instead of talking, he let his tongue snake out instead, licking along her cheekbone. Disgustingly hot against her cold skin, he pulled back just enough to whisper ‘You’, before his other hand reached out to grab her waist, fingers digging so deep into the fabric she is sure it’ll tear apart.

He had her backed into a corner, but now she stood frozen for a different reason. Mind perfectly empty for a moment, a single thought began taking shape. No, no one can touch her in this way. Spiralling then, further and further into pure, unaltered panic, every fuse blown, mind snapping into a state past any reason. Biting her tongue so hard she can feel blood run down her throat, pupils dilating to tiny slits.

Oh, god no please do not-

His other hand left the wall to grab her neck. That was when her body snapped back into action, instinct moving her limbs because this was not what she wanted, and she would not be forced into submission. Grabbing his right arm with force – unused to her new strength – she did not register the hollow crack, followed by his howling voice; crying out, scratching at her hand, face, chest. Screaming at her to let him go. Pushing him away, arm cocked to take a swing at him, there was another moment of stillness in her body and mind, neither moving.

Then-

Oh.

Oh, no.

Pain. Red, hot, pulsing pain burns through her mind, searing the edges until they were scorched, blazing through the middle, filling every last space until her head was lava on her shoulders, dripping, dripping down, covering her body, searing the space at her neck a scar should kiss but is empty because the Heart has taken even that from her and will let her die in a strangers body now.

With every beat of her heart (faster, faster, digging at her rib cage, begging to be let out, too hot to stay) the pain spread. With it red cracks opened like trenches, a battle fought in her body. Light spilled forth, red consuming the limbs it flowed down like blood, clinging to every muscle, breaking them apart.

Falling to her knees, the world beyond her faded, white anguish becoming the sole focus of her universe. Everything bending to this mind-searing pain. Mouth open in a scream – she did not know nor cared if it was in her head or not – hands digging into ground. Wishing to shake off the horrible hurt, nothing helped as cracks burst open along her back, each one felt separately, red so bright it burned her eyes despite the fact she pressed them closed.

Banging fists into stone again and again alleviated naught but the barely comprehensible wish to turn everything around her into rubble was her body did with her in turn. Legs buckling beneath quacking pressure, there was nothing to soften her fall, as stone met stone, face cracking into the ground. Next to the world ending torture plaguing her body Helga did not register her new position at all.

She would die. That was all she knew. It had not even been for a good thing, but still, death found her now.

There was nothing she could do to stop it, felt its cold hand clinging around her already, digging deep into her bones, tearing at her muscles, each nerve on fire. Every cell alight with unspeakable torment.

It was not something one could get used to, every moment filled with new misery, breath having long since left her body, chest pressed to the ground, spasming under pressure. Yet she noticed at once the touch of something else – hot still – but not hurting.

Throat gurgling around blood, bile and begging for her life. A voice broke through red haze, featureless face staring at her, talking but not saying anything.

Saying something she could not comprehend.

Wetness staying her cheeks, falling into her eyes, vision blurring further. Salt in her mouth, reminding her of tears. Of Kida. Kida.

Kida.

“Helga?”

Kida

Kida

“Kida.”

“Helga!”

Darkness swallowed the edges of her vision. But she was not done fighting it yet. The Heart may not care for her, but others certainly did. She herself had just started to. She would not die now.

“Helga!”

Yes, she would go on.

Mind splintering under constant pressure, it took everything in her body to pull it together enough to groan again, reaching up a hand.

Something wrapped around it, holding it tight. The contact hurt, pressure not at all as bad as the pain pumped through her body, yet hurting all the same.

“I got you,” the voice said, far away, but at her side nonetheless, “I got you.”