The Peak of a Mountain, Day 144 A.F

When faced with a furious witch, my first thought was that maybe I was too quick to forgive Matthew. The Fool had quite the knack for guiding us into terrible situations. If I survived, I'd need a pretty good explanation for this one. Despite the roaring fire, blurring and concealing Lady Lotus's features, chills coursed through me. In part, I was grateful for the flames. If Lady Lotus was visible, all her horrific majesty pinpointed on me, I surely would lose any level of composure I'd maintained. Her glowing glyphs whirled green, intermingling with the glaring orange of fire.

Stomach flipping, roiling, I backed into the tree. The black wood met my back, hard and unyielding. While the thrum of life flickered beneath my finger tips, it was so subtle, hardly vital. There was no pull of recognition, of respect in the bark. The plants had forsaken me when faced with the glory of their far more powerful mistress.

My claws remained buried in my fingers, deadened and useless. Utterly powerless. There was no hope for fighting, and even at my full strength it would have been hopeless. I sent a mental plea to Matthew, but I could hardly formulate the thought before a thorny vine snaked around my ankle.

I kicked wildly, desperate to free myself. I slashed at the foliage with my human fingernails, only succeeding in ripping up my sensitive skin. The plants completely ignored me, slithering higher, around my waist.

And then I was floating, yanked into the air. I squirmed against the green vice, but like a snake, every move made the vines constrict. So tight, I could hardly scream as I was wrenched upside down. My arms pinned, hair dangling in my face, I was aware how truly pathetic I was, especially when compared to what the Empress was truly capable of. Compared to Lady Lotus, I was little but a glorified gardener sporting a few measly tricks.

Somehow, I noticed that my hair remained its typical light brown. Not red as it always was when I was angry or threatened. Though I had always loathed that similarity between the witch and I it served only as more proof. I could never be the Empress when faced with Lady Lotus's viciousness. I was only an imposter, a child playing dress up. I never wanted to be the Empress, never wanted to give in too deeply to my powers, but without them I was shown just how helpless I truly was. So completely powerless.

All air was forced from my lungs as my back crashed into the tree trunk behind me. It was no wood I'd ever felt, the bark more like rock than anything living. The vines shifted, allowing me air to breath, to scream, as they encompassed the trunk as well, suspending me, upside down against the wood.

And scream I did. All thought of at least appearing in control, powerful, dissipated, and all I could do was scream. Vaguely, I wondered how my dying would affect the Game. If I could be killed in a vision, would Lady Lotus somehow claim my Icon? Or whichever of my allies was closest to my physical body. While I loathed to think of Death earning it, I sickened at the thought of one of my friends waking up to find my Icon on their hand, no way of knowing what had happened.

I expected Lady Lotus to laugh, revel in my agony, but instead she screamed. Screamed in a voice raw with smoke and fury, with pain I'd never imagine she was capable of. Wind raged, powerful enough to batter the fire, possessing to dance in a macabre jig like the witch's wild, bloody hair. But the wind was far too weak to drown out her wails, so tortured, it was as if her claws raked across my cheeks, her cries reverberating through my being as if they were my own.

The vines tightened with each of the witch's screams, so tight my own cries died away. Breathing was hard enough that screaming wasn't worth the air expense.

Her wicked thorn crown glinted, reflecting the angry red glow. With every howl Lady Lotus issued, the deadly barbs grew longer, more vicious. Like daggers. A complete circle around her head, unbroken and vengeful.

"You killed him! You! Not me!" Her voice was piercing, ringing in my ears. It was the noise of shattered glass and grief. It was torture. Torture to listen to. Clearly torture to produce. "I loved him and it's your fault he's dead!"

Her eyes burned through fire itself, void of tears, void of grief, almost void of pain. But brimming, spilling, overflowing with rage, with hate.

I couldn't guess what I'd done to warrant such aggression, such accusations. Yes, Lady Lotus's anger was to be expected. I'd certainly never experienced her in any other state, but the claim that I'd killed someone? I'd never killed anyone before. The sheer fact that she loved anyone was a shock.

But somewhere within me, I felt some shred of pity for the witch. Somewhere distantly, we shared blood. Her agony ran through it, echoing inside me. Besides, I was reminded of my own fury when Cyprian was lost, when I flew at Gabriel with mindless blame. How much further would I have gone if Death hadn't offered me hope? If I hadn't been able to ignore Lady Lotus's orders?

Did Lady Lotus contend with a witch of her own?

At one time, maybe. At one time, she was probably just like me: a girl thrust into the wicked world of Arcana before her darker impulses got their way. Before she became just another game piece of the gods.

Lady Lotus raked her purple claws through her hair, scratching at her scalp in such a frenzy she was surely drawing blood, just as I did when Tybira tempted her. "I trusted you!" The grasses at her feet jutted into the air, writhing around her legs like snakes. She'd definitely drawn blood.

She turned away from me, staring at something in the distance. I couldn't see past the fire. With her back to me, nothing showing but her tangled mane of red, she blended into the flames, all but disappearing.

Whatever she was looking at didn't hold her interest for long. She whirled around, plunging her hand directly into the fire. Sparks streamed into the sky, Lady Lotus's wails shooting higher. It was probably my imagination, but I could almost smell her burning flesh, hear the sizzle. I shuddered at the gruesomeness, at her disregard for the obvious pain she inflicted on herself.

With a final yell, she yanked a still flaming log from the fire. Though her face was downcast, still hardly visible, she held her arm at length. I was forced to endure the full horrificness of her skin, blistered and bleeding.

Despite the pain it caused, I strained against my restrictive vines enough to muster a wail. Her skin, pink and pussing, still sizzling and smoking... I could only see Lalita's face, melted beyond recognition by Shiva's acid.

I clenched my eyes shut until the vines shifted. One of the green vipers wrapped around the three slithered towards its floral mistress, climbing up her body. She stabbed a mangled, purple nail into the plant. Lady Lotus's arm healed rapidly, smooth, new skin forming and stitching itself together as the vine shriveled and died, its vitality sacrificed, claimed by the witch. I got a glimpse of numerous Icons, many of which I couldn't identify. Symbolic reminders of the lives she'd taken.

The vine transformed from a vibrant green to a deathly brown, the decay moving from Lady Lotus's claw along the vine, to the tree. Soon all the green had disappeared, replaced only by death.

Although my link to the plant life was seemingly severed and the death brought me no pain, I loosed a miserable sob as the majestic tree brittled against my back. It had been so beautiful, so ancient, but it dried up and died so quickly.

I strained against the vines encircling me. Though they were lifeless and brown, they remained strong. I was held fast.

The witch emerged from the flames, moving towards me. She raised her head, jutting her chin and looking me dead in the eyes. Finally, I saw her face clearly, not distorted by smoke or fire. Her lips curled into a smile... or rather, my lips. It was my lips, my nose. While her eyes were green, they too were mine. My face.

My stomach turned over. In a panic I scanned her body. My body. My face. My body. I'd seen Lady Lotus before, and while her hair and glyphs were the same, the claws and green eyes the same, her body was unique. Her face unique. But this woman... me.

She, or maybe it was I, sauntered closer, a feline smirk dancing across our lips.

I whimpered as she neared. How could she not see what she was doing? Who I was? That we were one in the same.

"No one betrays the Empress," she whispered, voice hardly audible against the roaring flames. It was Lady Lotus's voice, lower and gravelier than mine. But no longer yelling, I could hear the familiarity to my voice.

She looked at me with something that could be likened to pity, to remorse. I saw a genuine flicker of myself in her gaze. For a moment I genuinely believed she might reconsider, free me. But she blinked and it was gone, I was gone. Whatever of myself remained within her died. She thrust her burning log into the tree, so dry and brittle it was consumed in heartbeats, lapping at my legs.

Smoke poured into my lungs, choking me as pain erupted in my skin, so acute, my mind went utterly blank. There was nothing else. Nothing but pain and smoke and my screaming.

And then there was the horrible laughing.

((Told you this one would be shorter. Did anything seem familiar about this scene?

I don't know when I'll have the next chapter for you—I've been really busy lately. Although, I would like to announce another high fantasy tale coming soon! If you're interested in elves, dragons, romance, and adventure I hope you'll get excited for it!

Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed this smaller chapter. Thank you so much for reading!))