Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The island of Mystacor, prosperous as it had become, was still home to the most feared individual in Etheria.

More so than Hordak himself.

And yet, Castaspella did not seem to notice.

Or didn't care…

The young sorceress was the kind of person who could only be described as bold, which she proved constantly by defying the Tyrant of Mystacor without hesitation if she considered it necessary.

However, arriving late at a council meeting was… not something she'd normally do.

So, why wasn't she present yet, no one could guess.

But it didn't matter why. What mattered was that Shadow Weaver's fury accumulated with each passing second.

Specially since no councillor had managed to get her the one thing she requested.

—This is ridiculous— she finally said, standing up. —I will start the meeting without her.

—We-we're sure she will arrive soon— Daryon said, trying to calm her down, to no avail.

—And how could you possibly know!?

—She would never skip a meeting!— Anya interceded, recoiling as soon as Shadow Weaver looked back at her.

—Enough is enough. You're just hoping she will save you from the punishment you absolutely deserve for your failure! But she won't…

—Master, please— Ayax pleaded.

—No— Shadow Weaver insisted. —You must have forgotten what it means to fail when I request something— she began, menacingly. —But now, you shall remember…

As Shadow Weaver's magic began to overtake the room, the councillors took deep breaths, embraced for the worst, ready to withstand what they thought was a deserved punishment, and closed their eyes.

There was a moment of sheer cold around them.

Everything was silent.

They didn't know what to expect, so they waited, holding their breaths.

But then, the doors slamming open startled them, made them jump in their place and open their eyes again.

—What the heck do you think you're doing!?

—I should be asking you that— the Tyrant retorted, calling back her shadows and letting the Council see it was none other than Castaspella.

She had finally appeared.

—I am arriving a bit late to the meeting, isn't that obvious?— the sorceress mocked her, reaching her place at the table and setting down a box she had brought.

—Came to join your fellows? You must have a death-wish since there is no way you can save them this time— she scoffed. —It doesn't matter whether you have my favour or not, you should be punished too!

—Right— Castaspella uttered, rolling her eyes.

Without another word, she tapped the box and slid it closer to Shadow Weaver.

—What is this?

—Open it and find out— the sorceress dared her, smirking. —Oh, right, and I almost forgot this— she then added, making a huge effort to teleport a large bag to the middle of the table. She took out a small wooden piece from inside, passed it to Daryon next to her so the councillors on her right could inspect it, and then fetched another to let the others on her left see it too. —I would like you all to wear this, and give them to your squads too. They are protection charms. They have to be recharged after around five hard hits, but I can do that easily. The idea is just to give you enough time to escape if I'm not there to help you.

Impressed, the councillors began questioning her about the charms; how she had done them, where she got the idea, why spend so much time and energy on them…

And while Castaspella explained how she had been making them the past year with the intention to have them ready far earlier, Shadow Weaver inspected the contents of the box in utter silence.

It was… exactly what she had asked for.

Inside the box there had to be about a dozen, perfectly pure and intact lunar crystals infused with the power of the Moons of Enchantment.

The process was complicated, to say the least, and most times the crystals would shatter from the sheer power of the Moons… So how exactly had Castaspella managed what none of her own pupils could? She needed to know now.

—Everyone out— she suddenly ordered, interrupting the council's questioning without looking up from the box. —Except Castaspella. Everyone else, leave— she then clarified, finally looking at them.

—But…

—Just go— the young sorceress interrupted Anya. —And take the bag with you. I'll be out soon.

—Are you sure?

—Yes. Don't worry, Daryon.

—You heard her, now out— Shadow Weaver insisted, closing the box. They silently observed as the councillors poured out of the room and, once the doors closed, Castaspella folded her arms and raised a brow at the Tyrant. —Now, tell me something: How did you do it? None of them could, the process is complicated…

—It took me the whole week to prepare, and I probably broke far more crystals than I could afford, but I had to. I wanted to do it. And I can be just as stubborn as you— she interrupted, a bit smug. —You ask for it, I get it for you. Simple as that.

—Are you looking for greater favour from me, or what?— she began, moving closer to the sorceress.

The old woman slowly took her mask off, revealing a teasing smirk.

—I am just doing my job and what I think is best for Mystacor.

—Oh, of course. You're always so selfless… Won't use your favour to reach for more power but rather to help the people.

—Indeed. I'm still offended that you would think I'd be as greedy as you— Castaspella scoffed, looking away.

—I know now, as I am well aware that you're far too gentle for that— Shadow Weaver further teased her, stepping into her personal space and towering over her. —And, much to my surprise, I find that quite enticing from you— she admitted, moving her face closer but stopping before their lips met.

—Is that so?— Castaspella let out, smiling smugly. —Why did you stop, then? Why didn't you kiss me just now?

—If you can figure that out on your own, I'll reward you.

And the young sorceress had to take the challenge.

After thinking for a moment, she realized —You're doubting.

—How so?

—You were going to kiss me as you did years ago on my birthday— Castaspella explained. —But now that I've gotten bolder, now that you know I can't be swayed by the promise of power, you're hesitant. You… are afraid.

—Of what?

—Being the one subdued or weakened… instead of me.

Castaspella half-expected her to get angry, or at least to frown.

But she didn't…

On the contrary, Shadow Weaver seemed pleased at how well the young sorceress managed to read her.

Without a word, the Tyrant picked her up and sat her on the table; they finally began kissing, and just as Castaspella wondered what the "reward" could be, she felt it.

However, the rising heat was promptly cut short as they heard the doors about to open.

Just great…

Shadow Weaver quickly moved back and the young sorceress jumped down from the table, brushing down her dress to hide any trace of what was happening a second before.

—Excuse the interruption, Master, but according to the schedule Castaspella put together, we must go for the supplies now before the market closes…— Kenno explained himself, feeling like he did walk into something.

—Right! Right… I should… go.

Reluctantly, Shadow Weaver nodded at her to leave, and Castaspella tried not to look too dejected as she followed Kenno out.

Well, it wasn't ideal, but Castaspella had to admit Kenno was right. They would lose an entire day if they didn't go shopping right away.

A real shame, however, since the young sorceress felt pretty… aroused.

Ugh…

Time to see how well she can hide it.

Normally, she'd be doing this with Daryon, so she wouldn't have to worry much, but since this time he was busy and instead Kenno filled in for him, Castaspella had to take the lead.

And it was difficult to focus.

—Where do we begin?

—You… do have the list, right?— she asked, concerned.

—Yes, yes… somewhere… here— the sorcerer nodded, checking all the folds of his robes. —Ha! Here!

—Great. Let's follow this list first, and if we recall anything else in the way, we can add it too.

—Alright. Uh…

—What is it?

—Are you okay?

—O-of course?

—You seem a bit uncomfortable. Did something happen?

—Of course not— she quickly dismissed him. —It's nothing.

—Listen, we know Shadow Weaver can be intimidating, but you have nothing to fear. I promise.

—I-I know.

—It's clear you've gotten into our Master's good graces, so no matter what she says, you can be sure she will never harm you. Or see you harmed, either…

—Really?— she asked, fishing for more.

—Of course! We… have noticed how she subtly defends you, constantly insists you should be respected for your knowledge and invaluable advice, and that we're all safe thanks to you— he explained. —And she's right!

So… that's what he meant.

Curious…

However, he never mentioned the little "test" that the council absolutely knew about…

—I see— she sighed.

—Besides, she usually remarks that you're the only one skilled enough to survive if anything ever happened to Mystacor. You-you can take care of yourself fully, you even make your own clothes! And we suppose that explains why Shadow Weaver always wants everyone to immediately answer her call whenever she needs us, but not you.

—Wha- Really?

—Yeah… She always asks if you're available or not, and if you're asleep, or eating, or even just in your free time doing whatever, she dismisses it and says she'll ask you later— Kenno chuckled.

—Oh… I-I had no idea.

—It's alright. It's a good sign.

—And… what if I taught you all how to do those things? Wouldn't it please the Tyrant if she considers that would make you all more competent?— she offered. —I'm not saying you're incompetent, that's bullshit… But she thinks…

—I know— Kenno interrupted, smiling gently. —That's actually a good idea. We should tell the others and organize some… sort of workshop to learn basic skills then— he agreed.

—That would be perfect! Once we're back, let's gather everyone and we can organize a schedule!

Kenno and Castaspella arrived by nightfall, carrying so many supplies that some things almost fell off their bags right as they arrived. A few acolytes quickly appeared to help them, and once they were sure things would be handled, Castaspella and Kenno gathered the rest of the council, as agreed, and the young sorceress explained her proposal.

—So… You'll teach us how to knit and sew?— Ekaterina asked, a bit confused.

—Of course! And anything else you might not know that can be useful— she beamed. —Look, I'll finish this right now to show you how many things can be done with the right elements and skill— she proposed, producing a baby-pink bundle of fabric. As she unfolded it, she explained —This is my latest work: A cape! It has these golden details and shoulders. As you can see, I used two different fabrics for the inside and the outside, which will make it heavier and more suitable for a cape. I only need to sew the last stretch of the edges and it will be done.

The council watched with fascination as Castaspella demonstrated how to pass the thread through the needle with ease, how to sew with different kinds of stitches depending on what they wanted to do, and how they wanted it to look.

Once her pretty new cape was ready, she put it on and they could see just how well-crafted it was, which got them really excited.

None of them had considered they could actually make their own clothing, however they wanted it, and now they needed to learn how.

Having such good reception, Castaspella humored them and they remained until well past midnight discussing the projects each wanted to do, and setting up a schedule…

Chapter Text

Another "fructiferous" meeting of the council had just ended when Castaspella was stopped by Shadow Weaver on her way out of the chamber.

—What is it now?— the young sorceress asked, hands on her hips.

—What are you wearing?— the Tyrant asked back, eying her brand-new cape.

—Do you like it? I made it!— she smiled brightly.

—It's… very pink.

—You don't like it…— Castaspella realized, suddenly full of dread.

—And you care?

—Of course!

—You shouldn't. Don't be stupid. If you like it, why should you care whether I do?

Shadow Weaver sounded aloof as expected, but it didn't escape the sorceress that she was, weirdly enough, trying to be "supportive".

Odd.

—Thanks for the advice?— Castaspella uttered, confused. —Are you feeling alright?

—Sure…

—Ah… We'll talk more later, alright?— she sighed, itching to hold her hand or something but refusing to do so since it would likely anger the woman as they could be seen. —I have work to do…

—As you wish— the Tyrant agreed, sounding quite tired.

It was strange, seeing Shadow Weaver like that, and a feeling of unease followed Castaspella the rest of the day.

However, she made her best effort to stay focused and "give her class" to the her fellow councillors.

It was a slow day, so they had all the time in the world to focus on learning new skills.

They began by practicing a few stitches, learnt some pattern-making, and then moved onto starting each of their personal projects.

Castaspella was sure this would be the best way to learn new skills: Applying them!

By the time she arrived at Shadow Weaver's chamber that night, the young sorceress was feeling quite accomplished.

—Evening!— she announced herself as she walked in.

—You're finally here— the Tyrant noticed. —I was starting to wonder whether you'd show up or not.

—Why wouldn't I come?

—I've learnt of your selfless offer to help those pathetic councillors be at least half as capable as you…— she began, smirking. Her mask laid on the desk while her clothes had already been exchanged for her night robes. —It's good to see you weren't too busy to remember your promise to "talk later"— she added, dragging the point. —After all, we have many things to discuss.

—Oh, really? So you want to talk about whatever was going on with you this morning?— Castaspella defiantly asked, folding her arms as she approached.

—Sure, but first: Why don't you tell me about those personal things you've been getting while shopping for the Island's supplies?

—Hold on, hold on. I buy my stuff with my own money!

—Only your stuff?— Shadow Weaver insisted, squinting.

—Shit. You are talking about…

—The supplies for Mystacor that you also buy with your money, yes— she interrupted, standing up to approach the sorceress too. —You can't keep making up for the missing money. If the funds aren't enough, then you don't buy "everything needed", only the essentials.

—But if it's needed…

—No buts. The Island is now indebted to you. Was that your goal?

—No, no!

—Then listen to me, Castaspella, and stop buying supplies for everyone with your personal money— she insisted, stopping in front of her. —Once again, I have to remind you you're only safe because of my favour. Otherwise, I would have to punish you for forcing this situation.

—Then resign the favour if you so want to punish me, I don't care. I'll keep helping Mystacor however I can, and there's absolutely no debt as far as I'm concerned.

—Wrong answer.

—Fuck you…

—Adorable— the Tyrant mocked her. But only for a moment before she noticed something. Castaspella wasn't looking so defiant anymore. —What's wrong?

—Who else knows?

—About?

—The money I've been putting to buy supplies.

—No one, as far as I know.

—Oh… Good…

—I'll ask again: What's wrong? Why are you suddenly so scared?— she pressed on, suspicious.

—I-I just… It's the same as usual. I don't want people to think I'm somehow "buying" that favour you so love to remind me you're giving me…

—I wouldn't let that happen and you know that. We don't have to do anything you don't want to— Shadow Weaver reminded her, gently grabbing her chin to make her look at her. —Am I clear?

—O-of course. I don't… Ah…— Castaspella sighed. —It's not that I don't want to. I just- I don't like how it feels… doing it all hidden. Besides, it's obvious to everyone that you're favouring me and, to be honest, even I myself don't know why you do!

—That's easy to fix— she smirked. —In short, you've proved me wrong time and again. When I first met you, I only paid attention to you because you were Micah's sister. I know I said otherwise, but that's the truth. And yet, only a few weeks later, you proved to me you were more than just his sister. Every presumption I'd made, you demonstrated that you're even better than I could imagine, that your intentions are pure, perhaps too much for my taste, and that you care for others to an extent I do not. You're willing to give your all for others…— she explained. —You… represent all the things I've abandoned. Everything I have no hope for because of my past, which I can't help but admire…— she admitted. Then, with a deep breath, the Tyrant finally proposed —If you prefer, then I'd have no problem making it all public. If we make it official, I suppose it'll stop looking so suspicious. And, of course, I wouldn't let anyone disrespect you.

—You mean it?— the young sorceress asked, eyes shining.

Before replying, Shadow Weaver smirked and pulled her in for a kiss.

—Of course. I want everyone to know you're mine; the brightest mind of Mystacor, to whom almost everyone owes their lives, belongs to me— she said, in a low tone. —Or, not "belong", if you prefer, just… "favours me as much as I do". What do you think?

Castaspella couldn't help but smile wide and nodded, throwing her arms around the Tyrant's neck.

Shadow Weaver picked her up, took her to the bed, and laid down with her while they kissed for a moment.

—I would love that— the young sorceress finally said.

—Then you'll have to let me mark you.

—Okay?— Castaspella giggled, raising a brow, unsure of what that meant.

With a mischievous smirk, the old woman caught her in another kiss.

Hotter, this time.

Literally burning.

What was happening!?

She'd soon find out…

Humming in pain as the burning sensation became unbearable, Castaspella closed her eyes tightly, hoping it'd end soon, not daring to push her away.

For some reason, she didn't want to push her away.

Fortunately it did end soon.

As Shadow Weaver pulled away, the cool air got rid of the burning sensation pretty quickly and the young sorceress could open her eyes again.

The Tyrant was looking at her with a glint of something…

Suspicious.

—Black suits you— she then whispered, smirking still.

—Huh?

She was looking at her lips.

What exactly did she mean!?

—You may want to check the mirror.

—What did you do… Oh, my Stars… Will I regret accepting?

—I sure hope you won't.

Huffing, Castaspella got up from the bed and went to Shadow Weaver's vanity.

And sure enough, there it was: "black lipstick" on her lips.

—This is not lipstick— she told herself.

—No.

—What is this?

—Just the mark I mentioned.

—What does it do?

—It's symbolic.

—Woman…

—I'm telling you it's symbolic. It's just that. Won't affect you in any way but sends a clear message— she explained, still laying in bed comfortably.

—I don't… hate it? But it's so strange— Castaspella admitted, looking at her reflection with more detail. —I don't even use make-up, this is so weird…

—I still think it suits you.

—Thank you— she said this time, blushing. —But… What will I say when asked about it?

—You can lie and say it's mere lipstick… Or you can answer it's none of their business. It'll be evident to everyone once we make it public.

—So we're actually announcing it like some kind of event?

Shadow Weaver cackled and stood up from the bed to approach her.

—You want it to be an event? I can do that…

—I don't know? I'm not sure…

—We'll do whatever you prefer.

—I suppose a public announcement would make things easier for me— Castaspella admitted, sighing. —Alright. Let's do that, then. I have no idea what could be said, but as long as you make sure I don't look like some…

—You won't look like anything you aren't. My partner; that's what you are.

The sorceress let out a soft smile that the Tyrant couldn't resist and they kissed again, more tenderly this time.

Several hours later, they were lying in bed on each other's arms, breath shallow as they recovered from an exhausting make-out session.

Castaspella buried her face on Shadow Weaver's neck and hummed, satisfied. Slowly, she began kissing the Tyrant under her chin, pressing her lips deliberately over the tender skin of her scars.

Eventually, she surrendered to sleep with just one thought in her mind: the following day would change everything. Hopefully for the best…

She'd make sure of that.

Chapter Text

The following morning, Castaspella woke up early, took a bath, got ready to pick up some breakfast from the kitchen, and told Shadow Weaver she’d see her later to organize the announcement.

On the other hand, the Tyrant didn’t get up until noon, hardly recalled having spoken to the young sorceress, and when they met for lunch, she was shocked for a second seeing her black lips.

Right.

She had marked her.

She forgot about that, as a matter of fact.

However, she perfectly disguised her surprise.

—Afternoon…— she greeted her.

—Good afternoon!— Castaspella replied, cheerful as ever. —So? What are we going to do for the “announcement”?

—Hmm… What, indeed. Something dramatic, maybe— the old sorceress smirked.

—Why?

—Why not?— she insisted, her grin widening mischievously.

—Be-because… I-I don’t want to cause a scene…

—This will cause a scene, like it or not.

—Why!?

—Because me having a partner is unthinkable for the Council and the people of Mystacor. I am supposed to be the heartless tyrant, remember?— Shadow Weaver explained.

—That’s ridiculous, you’re not… I mean, um…

—See? The “ridiculous” idea is me having a partner, or rather, loving someone and being loved in return.

—But- I-I mean… the Council… They all love you— Castaspella pointed out. —Like, yeah, I guess the idea of you loving someone is still wild, but… There has to be a way of going public without causing an uproar!

—Why are you so concerned about their reactions?

—Why aren’t you!?

—Why should I be? When have I cared about anyone’s reactions?

—That’s not exactly a positive trait, you know?— Castaspella grunted. —If you don’t care about what people think at least a bit, then they won’t care about you either. They won’t respect you.

—Well, you care too much and that doesn’t help you either.

—Okay, okay, so… I care too much, you care too little. We should balance each other out!— the young sorceress proposed. —Let’s plan this each our way and then we’ll compare how we’d do it. I’ll take advice from you and you can take some from me…

—I must ask, once again, why you’d let me rule and not take the lead yourself— Shadow Weaver interrupted. —You’re much better suited for this than me.

—N-no, no. I- No. I’m better where I am, trust me. Some decisions… I simply can’t make them. I… don’t have your resolve.

—I see— the Tyrant hummed. —Then let’s do as you say. But, this announcement won’t just make you officially my partner…

—What else would it make me?

—A co-leader of sorts— she smirked. —You don’t want to take the lead? Alright. No problem. But you’ve been helping me lead all this time, and now I want that to be acknowledged.

—I’m already part of the council, I’m not…

—But you’re far superior than them— Shadow Weaver scoffed. —Keeping you at their level is stupid, besides the fact that, being the youngest member, you are seen as lesser…

—I’m seen as- Right, of course— Castaspella realized, mid-sentence, replacing her indignation with resignation.

—Good to know you understand— the old woman condescendingly said. —Well, then, time to start planning, taking that into account.

—Alright… Oh, about our lunch: It may be a bit hot yet— she smiled, opening her bento box.

—Don’t tell me you cooked it yourself again…

—Of course!

—Why?

—I like cooking for you?

—Right…

—Fine. I was a bit stressed and wanted to cook something, alright?

—I knew it— she smirked. —I should ask now: Would you like to be… De-stressed?

Her look said enough.

—Perhaps… But, after eating— she smiled.

—Deal.

They had barely finished eating and were starting their usual flirting and teasing game, when an explosion rang through Mystacor and a magical alarm began blaring.

—What the heck was that!?— Castaspella reacted, looking at the covered window and considering taking a look outside.

—Nothing good— Shadow Weaver replied. —Follow me— she ordered, striding out of the room. Feeling her footsteps rush behind her, she went on —I can almost assure you we’re under attack.

—How are you so sure?

—The island wouldn’t spontaneously shake, you know? And that sounded like bombs or explosions… The Horde must be behind this— she replied.

—What do we do?

—You will do what you do best: defend and protect us. I’ll handle the rest— she smirked, briefly looking back.

—Wa-wait, are you sure!?

—I trust you. Do you?

—Trust you? Yes. Trust myself!? No idea…

—Listen…— she insisted, raising her voice over the loud alarm and accelerating the pace as they heard another explosion. —You go to the entrance and check the state of things. I’ll handle the people and then find you. Just buy yourself enough time until I join you.

—But…

—And, this will be even better of an announcement. Wouldn’t you say?

—I…

—Casta— she stopped her for a moment. —I know you can do this. Don’t make me look like the hopeful one— she told her, grabbing her chin. —I’ll join you soon, and we will show the Horde that Mystacor is not to be messed with.

Castaspella let out a sigh and tiptoed to kiss her for a moment before giving the Tyrant a resolute nod.

Each went their separate ways then; the young sorceress rushed down the stairs while Shadow Weaver remained upstairs to find the councillors and start giving instructions.

When she first stepped outside and saw the flying ships, Castaspella lost her breath.

She almost lost all hope.

They had been found. The Horde had reached them.

They could fly!

Everything that put them at an advantageous position, vanished in a second.

What was she supposed to do!?

Oh, anything but give up. That’s for sure.

She kept running, closer to the entrance of Mystacor, and saw the biggest ship preparing a cannon or something, charging to fire.

The previous hits had apparently landed on empty ground, on the soil under Mystacor, probably with the intention of making the land collapse. She wasn’t sure.

But this time? This looked like it would hit directly the buildings.

And she couldn’t allow it.

Yelling at the top of her lungs, Castaspella made an effort to cast the largest possible shield she could achieve.

She was forfeiting resilience in exchange for size, but she knew that if she could, at least, resist one shot, she’d gain some time while they charged again…

She had to trust it’d be enough to resist until Shadow Weaver showed up as promised.

Shadow Weaver could see the large shield extending between the Horde ships and the buildings and immediately knew what Castaspella planned.

—That idiot— she muttered. Looking back at the councillors, she barked —You all have your orders, now move!

—Yes, Master!— they all replied, before sprinting their separate ways, ready to follow her instructions, keep the people safe and out of danger.

—Casta…— she sighed, considering straight up jumping down the window. But maybe it was better to just teleport down… —Casta!— she called, appearing close to her. But the sorceress ignored her. —The bigger you make it, the weaker it will be!— she warned her.

—I know!

—Then let me help— she requested, reaching her side. —Do you trust me?

—How?

—The magical energy sharing techniques you've been teaching…

—No… I- Your magic…

—It won't taint you, I promise.

—But…

—If you don't accept the power I share, that blast may kill us all— she insisted. —So, I'll say it only once: please, trust me.

—I…— she hesitated. They were running out of time, she had to make a choice. And everyone was looking. Everyone depended on them. Shadow Weaver made a choice and hoped, maybe, Castaspella would follow suit. She kissed her for a second and offered her power to her. —I trust you— Castaspella finally sighed, with tears in her eyes.

With the whole island watching, the sorceresses let their magical energies combine to empower the risen shield, and it gradually turned from light-blue to dark purple… the mere sorcery combined with the power of black magic.

And right as the shield turned fully dark, the mighty blast hit.

But it wasn't enough.

Their defenses prevailed.

Shadow Weaver remained behind Castaspella, holding her and reminding her to let the power just flow from her to the spell.

—Don't fight it, don't fear it…

But she didn't fear it.

She trusted her.

And so the shield held.

Even when the Horde ships crashed against it, the spell didn't break…

Castaspella began sweating, gasping for air as she felt her strength wearing thin, but the Tyrant didn't move an inch, kept her standing, secured her.

As the first few ships exploded against the shield yet caused no harm, the remaining ones retreated.

The young sorceress could drop the shield.

Yet as soon as she did, she almost fainted.

—They… are gone— she sighed.

—They are. And I've got you— Shadow Weaver assured her.

—Thank you…

—Shush now. You must rest— the old woman insisted, picking her up like she weighted nothing. —I'll take you back inside and you'll rest.

Without another word, Castaspella posed no resistance and was carried inside. Shadow Weaver didn't even have to ask for a chair or a healer. Both were waiting for them when she stepped into the main building.

Hardly conscious, she let the Tyrant feed her a concoction the healer had prepared, and gave the order to call Micah.

—Excuse me, Shadow Weaver— an acolyte replied. —The King is already here.

—Oh shit. That's not good.

—We can hardly hold him back any longer.

—Alright. I'll handle it.

Chapter Text

It was around noon when the first of the Princesses' messengers appeared in Bright Moon.

Angella was barely hearing them out when a second and a third one appeared.

All the Princesses requested the same: that they check what on Etheria was happening in Mystacor.

Well… What was happening?

—I suppose this means we should go personally, no?— Micah considered.

—You go and I'll stay with Glimmer…

—But…

—Oh, right, if the Princesses learn I didn't go, they'll think I didn't take them seriously— she immediately considered, before he could say it himself. —I guess, as she's already asleep, we both can go.

—Good— he smiled.

—You're also worried it may mean trouble for Casta, right?

—Yeah…— he admitted. —Specially if it's something related to Shadow Weaver.

—It may be related to the Horde.

—Worse then.

—Oh, so there is something worse than Shadow Weaver for you?— Angella laughed.

—O-of course!

—I'm messing with you, my Love. Let's go.

The regents teleported directly to the island, appeared inside the main hall, and were surprised by a multitude of acolytes.

—Please, remain calm— a councillor was ordering. —Everyone with children under their care, make sure to keep an eye on them.

—Is everyone accounted for?— another councillor asked, surveying the multitude. —Alright, please, stay in this room. If anyone's missing, we'll get them for you.

—What's going on!?— Angella asked, shocked.

—Your Majesties— Anya immediately approached. —Excuse us, we're having a bit of a crisis— she apologetically explained. —Please, come this way.

—Wait- What do you mean "a crisis"!? Where's my sister!?

—I understand your concern, your Majesty, but you must come with me. It'll be simpler that way.

—Let's go, Love— Angella encouraged him, and they both followed Anya to a chamber with windows to the outside.

And so they saw it.

The most dreadful scene they could have found.

Horde ships flying around Mystacor.

A huge vessel with a canon at the front, loading what looked like a deadly laser.

—No…— he exhaled. —Is that… her?

Micah noticed the tiny figure of his sister casting a massive shield, and wondered why it looked like black magic.

Only then did he pay better attention.

—They are…

—Shadow Weaver is helping her cast? How!?— he exclaimed in disbelief.

—We-well, Castaspella has been training different teams on magical energy sharing. This-this must be the same— the councilwoman nervously explained.

—But Shadow Weaver's magic is malignant. It could- I-it could hurt Casta!

—Our Master would never allow it— Anya assured him.

Could he trust that?

Well, Micah had no choice.

Angella held him with both hands as comfortingly as possibly as they watched the Horde ships attacking.

When the first ship charged at the shield, she enveloped him with her wings but let him see what happened.

She felt him flinch when the ship exploded… and relax when he noticed the shield stood there still.

—They… are fine?

—Please, wait here. I'll ask someone to let Shadow Weaver know you're here— Anya requested, before leaving the room.

They kept watching until the remaining Horde ships retreated since their attempts at crushing the shield failed, and only after they were out of sight did the shield finally fall.

And Micah couldn't help gasping when he saw Castaspella fall and Shadow Weaver carrying her in her arms.

—I need to see her…

—Wait here, Love. They will come soon, I'm sure.

—But…

—If Casta fainted, all the more reasons to wait until she's in a better condition, don't you think?

—Why am I being kept here instead of allowed to go to her!?

—Please calm down— Angella begged.

—How!? No- I-I want to see her!— he yelled, knocking on the closed doors with both fists.

—Micah. My Love. Please— the Queen insisted, holding him by the wrists and pulling him into an embrace. —Please, breathe with me, and wait.

—I want to see my sister…

—And you will.

Fortunately, Shadow Weaver went to speak to them as soon as she was notified of their presence.

Micah didn't say a word, didn't look at her.

She knew he blamed her.

—She is fine. I am sure she will be able to see you in just a few minutes when she recovers her strength.

—Are you sure?— Angella insisted.

—Of course. A healer is taking care of her at the moment. And I'm sure you'll understand that I would rather return to her now.

—Alright— the Queen accepted. She glanced briefly at Micah and added —Please bring her as soon as she agrees to.

—Of course, your Majesty— Shadow Weaver nodded, bowing briefly but with a slight hint of mockery.

Then she left, closed the door, and a tense silence settled.

They waited… Probably no more than ten minutes, but for Micah it was an eternity.

And finally, Castaspella walked into the chamber.

—Micah?— she asked, before being almost rammed by her brother rushing to hug her. —Oh… Hey, I'm alright!

—I was so worried— he sobbed, holding her tighter.

—Are you sure you're alright?— Angella gently asked, stepping closer.

—Absolutely— she smiled.

As Micah finally released her, he couldn't help noticing and asking —Are you wearing… lipstick?

—Uh…— she hesitated for a second, looking back at Shadow Weaver, who casually stood on the door, laying against the frame. —No?

The Tyrant didn't want to interfere but she refused to leave, so she didn't move an inch or made any gestures.

—What do you mean?— Angella decided to ask, confused.

—Ah… Alright. I- Well, it's not lipstick, it's a mark…

—Mark?

—I'm too tired now, but the short version is… I'm Shadow Weaver's partner.

—What!?— Micah reacted, his eye twitching.

—Wait, hold on, Love— his wife stopped him. —Casta, you clearly need to rest. Why don't you go to Bright Moon with us, recover… and then you can explain better?

—I… don't know…— Castaspella muttered, once again looking back at the Tyrant.

—Go— the old woman immediately told her.

—What?

Shadow Weaver realized the sorceress simply didn't want to leave her, and she didn't want her out of her sight either. But, that way, she wouldn't rest at all.

Approaching, she swallowed her pride and let herself be gentle as she insisted —Go with them. Rest, recover. I'll handle this mess and you can return when you feel better.

Castaspella's cheeks went red.

That was unexpected.

—Tha-thank you— she stammered. And before she could regret it, but at the same time wanting to make a point, the young sorceress kissed Shadow Weaver's mask. —I'll go, then.

Soon after Castaspella left with the regents of Bright Moon, Shadow Weaver was informed the Council waited for her at the Council room.

What on Etheria did those fools want now?

Well, she had to attend the meeting in any case, so she saw no reason to delay.

—Alright, everyone— she began, making her way to her place among the shadows. —Are the people safe? Is there any trouble? Do we have casualties?

—No, Master— Daryon denied. —Everyone is safe.

—Then why have I been called here?

—We have a question— Ekaterina chimed in.

—A question? I see… Go ahead. Ask away. I'm sure I'll be shocked…

She knew perfectly well what they would ask.

—Have you done anything to Castaspella?

Or not?

What!?

—What do you mean "anything"?

—Have you hurt her in any way?— Daryon clarified.

—No.

—Have you threatened her?

—Plenty, but you know that. She's never yielded.

—Then what exactly happened?— Ekaterina scoffed. —If you've managed to force her into doing anything, I can promise…

—What she means to say…— Ayax interrupted. —Is that we are worried about our fellow councillor. Master, can you promise us you have not broken Castaspella's will?— they asked, noticeably calmer than everyone else.

—Castaspella's will is far stronger than any of us can imagine. I have not broken it, nor do I think I can.

—So it's… true. You're together… as a couple— Anya realized.

—Correct— she admitted, nonchalant. —Does that upset you?

—N-no!— Anya quickly denied.

—If that's the case, then we're more than glad— Daryon smiled. —Aren't we?

—We're overjoyed, Master— Kenno began. —For both of you— he smiled. —We feared for her, and for you, because we know this has never been an easy matter for you.

Shadow Weaver chuckled a bit sardonically.

—Is that so? Don't you envy Castaspella now? Don't you resent her?

—Not at all. On the contrary, we treasure her— Kenno said.

—But if you hurt her…— Ekaterina tried to threaten her again, only to be stopped by Daryon.

—I am sure she understands we value Castaspella, Rina. No need to get feisty— he joked.

—Interesting— Shadow Weaver hummed. —Very interesting.

—You can trust us, Master— Ayax began. —We will protect Castaspella. From everything. Even from you.

—What happened in the forbidden corridor will never repeat— Daryon promised.

—You better make sure no harm comes to her ever again— the Tyrant warned them, squinting. —And just as you said, even from me…

Meanwhile, in Bright Moon, Castaspella was offered a room to rest as much as she needed, and passed out almost immediately.

She was drained.

Her dreams, unfortunately, didn't let her rest much.

Visions filled with shadows, darkness, and ominous images plagued her; the feeling of drowning and falling to the bottom of some thick liquid kept waking her up abruptly.

Her chest hurt from the anguish of those nightmares.

And the last time she woke up, she heard her brother speaking behind the door.

—Come on! I want to see how she's doing!

—She's sleeping! Let her rest!

—But, Angie!

—No buts! You will pester her about Shadow Weaver!

—But…

—What did I just say?

—Aw, come on!

—Micah, you're behaving like a child.

—I'm just worried!

—I know! But you must let her rest.

—She's been resting since we returned!

—Micah, my Love, please…

—I-I'm just…

—I know.

—Angie. Do you think she did anything to her?

—If I'm honest, no. I don't think Shadow Weaver did anything to Casta… More like it's the other way around.

—What do you mean?— Micah asked, confused.

Surprised and intrigued, the young sorceress stood up from the bed and approached the door to listen more clearly.

—You know Shadow Weaver better than me. You should have noticed— Angella began. —That woman has changed. Maybe not too much, but enough that it's noticeable. And for the best! Casta said Mystacor is getting better, and she's right. I can see that.

—I-I mean…

—People don't look scared. The Council is working better. Casta has grown, and that Tyrant is… more reliable.

—You think?

—I know it. I've seen and heard enough.

—But…

—My Love— Angella interrupted. —Please promise me one thing— she requested.

—Anything.

—Don't judge Castaspella.

Silence.

Her heart skipped a beat with anticipation.

Until, finally, he sighed —I won't.

Chapter Text

Castaspella eventually decided to take a leap in the dark and trust her brother.

And he, as promised, didn't judge her.

However, for the sorceress, his reaction… it was more ominous than anything else.

After explaining how she had been having a secret relationship with the Tyrant, first strictly sexual, and eventually romantic too, he… approached and hugged her in silence.

Then he left…

Angella had no idea what to say, and Castaspella didn't force her to speak either. She gave the Queen a look, like telling her to follow Micah, and then stepped into a balcony.

The sorceress took a deep breath, leant against the balustrade, and slowly sighed.

Night was falling…

Maybe she should return. She felt rested and probably things were calmer in Mystacor.

Besides, she could imagine Shadow Weaver would be restless until she returned, and she herself missed the grumpy woman too…

—Casta…— the sorceress heard behind her, so unexpectedly she jumped slightly, startled.

—Oh my Stars, my Love— she sighed, rushing to hug her.

—Missed me?

—Bitch— she muttered. —Of course— she admitted, burying her face on Shadow Weaver's shoulder.

—So I expected— the old woman smirked, holding her. —But, now that you said it again, I'll have to ask you not to call me that when we're in public.

—Oh- Uh, right. Sorry. What should I call you?

—What do you want to call me?

—Something short? I mean, I… Your full name sounds so formal, I feel like I'm chastising you— she laughed.

—You usually are…

—I wonder why!

—In any case… Choose anything that isn't too cheesy and we'll be fine.

—I suppose… There's no short form of your name that sounds alright. I can only think of short versions of Light Spinner, but…

—No, not that.

—Something told me you wouldn't like that.

—Indeed. I would rather forget that version of myself.

—Why?

—It's part of the past. Shed skin.

—I understand.

—Good.

—Then…

—I suppose you could… be allowed to use my real name— she considered.

—Real? As in…

—Beatrix. Maybe not "real", just, my original name. All my names are or were real, I suppose…

—I see— Castaspella smiled, holding back a giggle. —I can work with that. "Beatrix" sounds beautiful and… "Bea" is actually quite sweet.

—Perhaps too sweet. Keep that one private too.

—Alright— she laughed, rolling her eyes. —Thank you— she then sighed, hugging her again.

—Nothing to thank me for… I shouldn't be here.

—Oh, shit! No, you shouldn't! You- A-as per the agreement with the Princess Alliance, you shouldn't show up uninvited at any kingdom! I can't believe I- Leave before Angella returns!

—Calm down… I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'll leave now…

—No need— a voice interrupted, startling them both.

—A-Angella. Uh, it's not…

—Easy, Casta, I know— the Queen laughed. —I'm not here to- Ah…— she sighed. After clearing her throat, she started again —I hereby officially invite you, Shadow Weaver, to stay in Bright Moon for… dinner.

Surprisingly enough, she stayed.

But the dinner was… far from ideal.

If awkwardness could end the war, this dinner would have brought peace to Etheria already.

Everything was so uncomfortable…

Castaspella felt like a child, in a way, and kept drinking glass after glass of sake.

Micah was silently eating multiple portions of food, pretending he wasn't there.

Angella was trying to make conversation with Shadow Weaver.

While the Tyrant… behaved like a Queen.

Utterly shameless, even without her mask.

Nothing unexpected from her, but…

It didn't help.

However, the old woman was paying attention to Castaspella across the table, and she did not like how much the young sorceress was drinking.

—Casta— she eventually called, completely ignoring Angella. —I think you've had enough sake for the night.

—Shut up…

—I'm not playing games— she insisted. —What's the problem?

—Nothing.

But there certainly had to be some problem.

Her behaviour was so strange…

Shadow Weaver thought Castaspella would try to make them all get along or whatever. Yet instead… only Angella tried to make this dinner work.

As she saw her pour herself a new glass of sake, the Tyrant called again —Casta.

—What!?— she snapped back, after knocking back the aforementioned glass. —Never mind… Save it— she uttered, standing up and stalking away before anyone could say anything else.

Micah finally looked up in time to see her walk out into the nearest balcony, and immediately looked back at Shadow Weaver, frowning.

—Don't you dare blame me now.

—I was just going to ask if you happen to know why she's in such a bad mood all of a sudden.

—I don't know. Maybe because she downed half the bottle of sake on her own?— the Tyrant mockingly retorted. —I wonder why she's drinking so much…

—You tell me!— he scoffed, indignant.

—I wasn't with her all afternoon…

—Alright, enough— Angella interrupted. —This is likely my fault, so… if you could maybe speak with her…

—I'll try— Shadow Weaver sighed, standing up and picking up her mask. —If you'll excuse me…

A very dizzy Castaspella leant against the balustrade just like earlier, when the old woman showed up. This time, however, she didn't call her name, only approached her in silence and held her from behind without putting her mask back on.

—What are you… doing here?— the sorceress asked, slurring the words.

—Making sure you won't jump— Shadow Weaver joked. However, as the joke didn't land, she added —I want to know what upset you so much.

—Nothing…

—It's clearly something.

—Forget it.

—Casta…

—I had… a long day— she groaned. —And it was not… like I hoped.

—I am so very sorry, but I need you to tell me what you mean exactly.

—Be-Bea… I was- I told them everything… and Micah- He just… hugged me in silence. Like- It was like… I don't know… felt like he was mourning.

—I don't think he was…

—You weren't there— Castaspella cut her. —A-and now… and now Angella kept asking about Mystacor, and the people, and the council, and… ugh…

—What's wrong with that?

—She's… she's…

—What? What is she doing?

—She's judging everything! Just because her kingdom is so prim and proper… Some Queen Perfection she is— Castaspella complained, dragging the words even more.

Shadow Weaver wanted to cackle but had to hold back, knowing the regents were probably eavesdropping.

—That's the alcohol speaking— she said, loud enough to be heard. Then, holding her closer, she muttered —But I can tell you she's far from perfect.

—What do you know?

—She tries too hard— Shadow Weaver assured her, still whispering. She then gave her an intense kiss on the neck, under her ear, humming lowly. —And she's not half as sensual as you while at it— she added, laughing under her breath.

—Shut up…— the young sorceress giggled, leaning back against the Tyrant. —I'm sorry…

—Don't apologize.

—I ruined the dinner…

—Not your fault you felt so nervous you drank half the bottle of sake— Shadow Weaver insisted. —Now: why don't you go back inside, have some water, and talk to your brother?— she suggested, letting go of Castaspella and looking back over her shoulder to find the regents lingering at the entrance.

—Fine…— the sorceress complied. —Can we go back afterwards?

—Of course— she nodded, kissing her forehead before letting her go.

Then, she put her mask back on and observed as Castaspella approached Micah, and both carefully returned inside. As soon as they were away, Shadow Weaver gave the Queen a stern look.

—What?

—Eavesdropping isn't proper for someone of your position— the Tyrant reproached her.

Angella frowned, offended, and folded her arms.

—If you need to talk…

—I do, indeed— she admitted, turning around to overlook Bright Moon.

—About Casta, I presume.

—Correct.

—What is the problem? I swear I don't care about her drunken speech, really— Angella promised, standing next to her at a prudent distance.

—It's not about that. And you better pretend she didn't say anything. I will call you crazy if you ever bring it up— Shadow Weaver threatened.

—Alright! Sure! Now, what do you want to discuss?

—In relation to her drunken speech, I mostly wanted to know if she has always had this… self-esteem issue.

—Oh, well… Yes, I suppose. From what I know, she always compared herself to Micah, and… to me since we met. Her capabilities are the basis of her self-esteem…

—And what do you think about her, your Majesty?

—I think… I've always thought, and still think, that she's… actually stronger than either of us.

—Elaborate.

—I mean… Casta wasn't born powerful like me, and she doesn't have a gift like Micah. She… she made herself as powerful as needed. She- What she did today, what she's been doing for the people of Mystacor… it was no blessing from a higher power, no talent, no piece of cake. It took all her effort, and even more.

—And she didn't cheat her way into power either— Shadow Weaver added, smirking under the mask. —She's stronger than me too…

—Of course— Angella nodded. —If she had an ounce of our advantages, she'd rule the whole world— the Queen laughed.

—She would— the Tyrant added. —And everyone would thank her…

—Absolutely.

The women fell silent for a moment.

The chilly breeze of the night whistled in their ears.

After a few minutes, Angella blurted out —I apologize.

—For?

—Making Casta feel judged. I was genuinely curious about Mystacor.

—Forget it, your Majesty— Shadow Weaver dismissed her. —Do me a favour and pretend that dinner never happened— she insisted. She then turned, aiming to leave, but stopped herself as she remembered —Actually, I intended to make a formal request to you tonight.

—What would that be?

—I want to ask you, as the Queen of the Princess Alliance, to recognize Castaspella as the Queen of Mystacor.

—What?— Angella uttered, confused. —Could you clarify what you mean? Are you resigning your title?

—No, not at all— Shadow Weaver denied. —I will remain the Tyrant of Mystacor as it was stipulated in our agreement, but now that Casta is officially my partner, I do not want her to be called my "consort" or anything worse— she explained, stern. —I am asking for her authority to be recognized in order for her to get the respect she deserves— she further clarified.

The rise in her pitch was enough for Angella to understand Shadow Weaver wasn't joking. Perhaps she was being quite condescending, but that tone implied a bit of an underlying threat.

—I'll make that happen— Angella accepted. —I don't even need to consider it, I am glad you asked— she admitted. —My relationship with Castaspella is a bit awkward at times, probably would be much more strained without Micah, but… I care about her, and you just dispelled the last of my doubts about her relationship with you— the Queen disclosed.

—Good— she smirked.

Now Shadow Weaver could leave in peace.

—Oh, before you go…— Angella stopped her. —Remember the actual crown of Mystacor you rejected? I believe the crafter still lives in Mystacor— she reminded her. —May be worth a visit, wouldn't you say, Tyrant?

—You're right, your Majesty— she smirked. —Good evening.

Chapter Text

It was a rainy night in Mystacor.

Rare, but not impossible.

Yet Castaspella hadn't seen rain in Mystacor in all these years she had been out of the library.

So, for her, it was a rather impossible occurrence.

The women were preparing to go to bed, and Castaspella had just closed her book when she finally noticed.

—I didn't know it could rain up here…

—How did you- Oh, right— the Tyrant sighed. Leaning closer, she kissed the young sorceress' forehead and pointed out —You still have spent most of your life inside that library.

—Yeah, I have…

—I should apologize. It was my fault.

—I need you to stop apologizing for this— Castaspella replied, turning to face her.

—Why shouldn't I apologize? Don't tell me you don't like it…— Shadow Weaver questioned her, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning forward.

—You've already apologized for it before. And if you start apologizing for everything at all times, it'll lose its strength and I'll have to think you don't really mean it.

With a hearty laugh that surprised them both, the Tyrant laid down and pulled Castaspella closer.

—I suppose you're right about that. But I still only apologize to you because you're you— she smirked.

—I would rather you learnt to apologize at the right moment and time, to whom it corresponds.

—Not going to happen any time soon.

—So I feared— Castaspella sighed, rolling her eyes.

Chuckling, the dark sorceress kissed her neck a few times.

—So, how is the new Queen of Mystacor feeling after her first week?

—Oh- I… I'm still getting used to it.

—Are you?

—Yes, um… The way people react to my presence now and all that… It's so strange.

—A good strange or a bad strange?

—A bit of each, to be honest— Castaspella admitted, resting her head on Shadow Weaver's chest. —I feel like some people fear me now, and I really don't like that. But… there are many others who trust me and now find me more reliable since I have real power within the Princess Alliance.

—Oh, I see…

—Does that annoy you?

—No… It's just curious— Shadow Weaver clarified.

—Good curious or bad curious?— Castaspella asked, making her smirk.

—Funny… But I don't know. Time will tell.

As expected, Castaspella's responsibilities began pilling up.

But, for the most part, that was related to her putting too many things in her to-do list.

She wanted to handle everything, not because she couldn't trust others with the tasks, but rather because she didn't want to "bother" others with those things.

The Tyrant could hardly believe she had better understanding of time-management sometimes.

But well, it'd be a question of time before Castaspella realized she must delegate tasks sometimes.

As expected, it wasn't long before a massive issue took relevance and pretty much forced the young Queen to focus her attention and delegate everything else to the Council.

A problem with Mystacor's water supply net.

Just great.

—We need to get external help for this.

—And who do you suggest?

—Well, the logical option would be to ask for the Princess of Salineas, Mermista—Castaspella replied.

—She's barely a kid— Shadow Weaver scoffed. —And I suppose the Council hasn't informed you of what her father thinks of me and Mystacor.

—She's quite skilled, despite being… twelve? In any case, I could try to make a deal with her father. If you let me try…

—Suddenly you do ask for permission?— the Tyrant sardonically laughed.

—I thought I needed it for this particular matter.

—Normally, I would just tell you to drop the idea, it's a lost cause, but if you really think you can get us her help… Well, it'll be you losing time.

—We've been without water in the upper levels for too long. The lower levels might flood… I have to try.

—Fine. You can go to Salineas and ask for an audience. Then you'll probably have to pray to the Stars— Shadow Weaver smirked. —He's quite intransigent.

—How do you know?

—He used to trade with Mystacor; mere-folk with magical potential would come to study here… Then I happened and he cut all relationships with the kingdom, forbidding his citizens from studying here anymore— the Tyrant casually explained.

—That doesn't sound good…

—I told you.

—I'll try anyways. Maybe I can improve the relationship between our kingdoms.

—Suit yourself.

Oh, she most absolutely would.

Getting to Salineas wouldn't be easy.

Granted, she could sail from Bright Moon to the kingdom, but would she even be allowed to set foot there?

She was very obviously from Mystacor, after all…

Maybe she could… ask Angella for a favour?

Surely she could get her a meeting with King Mercia as official regents of their respective kingdoms, right?

—He refuses.

—What!?

—I'm sorry, Casta. There isn't much I can do— Angella apologized.

—Why does he refuse?— Micah innocently asked.

—He won't see anyone related to Mystacor.

—So not even me?

—Not even you— she confirmed, trying to not laugh at her husband's dejected expression.

—Did you explain there're lives at risk!?

—I did, Casta. But he simply refuses to help Mystacor in any way.

—Only because of Shadow Weaver!?

—Yes…— Angella sighed.

—You do realize this is ridiculous, right!? What's the point of the alliance if we won't help each other between allies!?

—I understand what you mean, Casta, but what do you want me to do? I can't force him to help you!

—You can order him to grant me an audience. Whether I can convince him to help or not, that's up to me.

—I can't just order people around…

—You-you do. All day— Castaspella replied, baffled.

Indignant, Angella looked back at her husband, only to see him grimace at her, apologetic.

He agreed with his sister.

—Fine! I'll see if I can get him to grant you an audience. But I cannot intervene if he won't lend you his help.

—That's enough for me— the young sorceress assured her.

Eventually, Castaspella got the audience she had been asking for with King Mercia.

Hostility from him was expected, but the young woman felt confident. If she could deal with Shadow Weaver, how difficult could this guy be?

She'd soon find out…

The trip to Salineas was uneventful, a pair of guards received her upon arrival, and then she was taken to the throne room, where she was asked to wait for the king.

That was probably a display of power from him. Making her wait…

While Shadow Weaver would usually wait in the darkness for the arrival of whomever went to see her, King Mercia wanted his guests to see him make an entrance instead.

Different tactics best fitting each of their respective personae.

Fine.

That actually meant he was already giving Castaspella enough information to prepare.

She could guess from his tactic that the man ruled with a firm hand, but not exactly with fear like Shadow Weaver. Instead, he clearly wanted to show strength, to inspire respect, to have people know their place not by belittling them, but rather by subtle actions that would make them aware of the place where he considered they stood.

This also meant his ego was just as big as Shadow Weaver's, yet his ambitions probably didn't match hers. Plus, opposite to her, it was evident he very much cared about everyone's opinion of him. Most likely, he had several attires, each with carefully tailored messages intended to be made clear with a single look.

Vanity. That had to be Mercia's trait, just like pride was Shadow Weaver's.

Perfect.

Castaspella now had a profile.

And just in time, since the King finally deigned to appear.

—A sorceress of Mystacor— he began, approaching the throne with long, confident strides. —Never thought I would ever have to receive one of you here again…— he went on, sitting down with an air of severity. —Alas, I had no choice in the matter. The Queen of Bright Moon ordered as much. Being her sister-in-law must have its perks— he commented, smug.

Off to a great start…

Castaspella was immediately invaded by shame.

Probably his intention.

She knew as much, but she couldn't help the wave of insecurity that took over her.

Yet she couldn't back down. Not now.

She had to remember who she was now.

—King Mercia— she began, bowing respectfully. —I most certainly thank you for welcoming me, even if solely because the Queen ordered as much. But I must remind you that I came here in quality of Queen of Mystacor, not Angella's sister-in-law.

—You're far from welcome here, sorceress— he scoffed. —As for your title, I can hardly recognize it while that Tyrant rules the kingdom— he added, looking disgusted.

—What a shame— Castaspella sighed. —I understand many of your subjects were quite talented magicians… To think they now go untrained, stripped from the opportunity to reach their full potential. It's quite unfortunate to have lost all diplomatic relationships.

—There's no use for diplomacy when a Tyrant is at the other end. The Princess Alliance wouldn't recognize her status if they weren't so desperate and helpless against the Horde.

—I thought you might say that— the young Queen replied, looking away. —Yet I can't help but wonder what your people think. Do they respect your decision, or consider it unwise? Have u ever thought about it, your Majesty?

Eyes wide, he was suddenly speechless.

No snarky remarks or smug rebukes.

Castaspella could practically see the doubt in his expression.

—I'm doing what's best for my people. Their wellbeing is my sole interest in this matter.

—Glad we have the same interest, then— she replied. —After all, the reason I ask for your help today is to keep my people safe. Their wellbeing depends on my capacity to actually get your help— she explained, serious. He seemed suddenly interested and allowed her to continue —Mystacor's water network seems to be suffering some kind of malfunction we can't figure out. The lower levels are at risk of flooding, while the upper levels have dried. Most of our food supply comes from our gardens, which are located in said upper levels… Flood and starvation threaten my people. I will not give up until I find a solution.

—The Queen said you wanted to request our help… but never mentioned why— he revealed. —What do you expect me to do?

—I believe your daughter possesses the power to fix our water network… Or at the very least find the problem so we can fix it ourselves— Castaspella explained.

—I cannot allow my daughter to go anywhere near the Tyrant.

—What if I promised to keep Shadow Weaver away?

—It's a risk I'm unwilling to take— he insisted. —She's my only daughter, far too young. I cannot entrust her safety to anyone. And I certainly can't trust she'll be safe in Mystacor.

—King Mercia, I…

—Enough, Castaspella— he interrupted her, albeit without anger or disdain. —I understand, I can empathize with your situation, but there's nothing I can do for you. Nothing I'm willing to do.

—I see…— she sighed, looking down. —Then I'm obligated to tell you that, when my people die, when the survivors are forced to abandon their homes and belongings, it'll be known that you refused to help. Our last hope…

With that, they young Queen turned to leave, fighting her tears and the lump in her throat.

She had failed.

Ashamed and sorrowful, she returned to Mystacor.

All she could do on the way there was think of a proper evacuation plan. Something that could save as many people as possible.

She'd have to chose who to save… But how could she?

And even if she somehow managed to evacuate everyone, where would she take all that people!?

She swallowed hard as she approached the cliff-side, step by step, and took a deep breath, readying to make her way up to the floating island.

However, before she could do as much, a voice called out behind her.

—Hey! Wait up!

—Huh?

Castaspella turned around only to find a young girl running towards her.

There was no mistaking her: King Mercia's daughter.

—Finally…

—Princess Mermista!?— she reacted. —Wha-what are you doing here!?

—I… heard you… talk to Dad… Ugh… I'm so… Ah…

—Alright, take a moment to recover your breath.

—I'm fine— the young teen replied. —I want to help— she finally said, standing straight. —You said I can do it. I wanna try.

—Your father…

—He won't know I'm gone until, like, a few hours— she dismissed her.

The sorceress found herself hesitating.

She needed her help, but accepting it would only provoke the King's wrath.

—Just… give me a moment to think.

—What's there to think!? You said people will die.

—But you're a teen. Your father has valid concerns…

—I'm already thirteen, okay!? I can do this.

—I know, I'm sure you can. But if anything happened to you…

—Nothing will happen— the Princess groaned. —Let's just go so I can return before Dad finds out.

—A-alright. But I need you to promise you will make sure to stay away from Shadow Weaver. I'll try to keep her occupied, of course, but if you see her, hide— she requested.

—Sure— Mermista smirked.

Without losing any more time, Castaspella went to find her fellow councillors.

With Mermista in tow, she let them know they had little time to check their water supply net and find the problem, but that she had to keep Shadow Weaver occupied so they would have to help the princess.

Hence, leaving the young teen in Daryon and Kenno's capable hands, Castaspella rushed to find the Tyrant.

—Where are you going at that speed?— the woman surprised her.

—Oh! The-there you are! I was looking for you…

—Were you? Or were you trying to hide from me?— she smirked.

—So you know…— Castaspella scoffed. —Listen…

—No, you listen— she interrupted her. —If King Mercia ever learns that his daughter came here against his wishes and we allowed her to help instead of sending her back, we'll have a huge problem in our hands.

—Ugh, so you know it all, don't you?

—Yes.

—Then make things easier for me and stay in your room. Let the princess work fast, and she'll be back before her father knows!

—And when they ask how we fixed our problem?— she insisted, with her usual condescending tone.

—We have no reasons to reply. Or explain ourselves.

—Smart— Shadow Weaver chuckled, quite proud. —This means we're both on the same page, so I'll let this pass. And… I'll stay in my room, don't worry.

—Thank you— Castaspella sighed, stepping closer. —I promise it'll be fine.

—I don't need you to promise that. But I most certainly hope, for your own good, that everything does turn out fine in the end…

Chapter Text

Fortunately for Mystacor, the Princess of Salineas was extremely capable and managed to fix the water supply network of the island soon enough.

Unfortunately for Castaspella, King Mercia still found out his thirteen-years-old daughter escaped and acted against his wishes…

It was true that Shadow Weaver had already stated she would not take responsibility… But it still annoyed the young sorceress.

—We'll have a long chat when I'm back. Understood?— Castaspella sternly told her, before leaving for Bright Moon.

—Sure…

—I'm serious!

—I know! Now, go, before that pitiful excuse of a king declares war on us or something.

Castaspella arrived at Bright Moon just in time, rushing a bit, and walked into the throne room where Mercia expressed his "concerns".

—…So, not only must I remind you how undeserving of trust that Tyrant is, but also I have to consider all those magicians to be just as untrustworthy!

—King Mercia…

—Excuse me, Queen Angella, but I won't change my mind.

—That's a shame— Castaspella said, voice firm. —I hoped to thank you, but if you think I'd be insincere, then I better save my breath.

—Thank me!? You used my daughter!

—Your daughter has more conscience than you and offered her help!

—Moment! Please, both of you— Angella stopped them. —Can we move to a different room and discuss this in private?

—Why private?— Castaspella asked, confused.

—Because these matters clearly call for some better diplomacy.

—You fear I'll declare war on Mystacor?— Mercia laughed. —Or just that I'll piss off that Tyrant!? Are you so scared of her, your Majesty?

—Enough— she silenced him, glaring intensely. —Both of you, follow me.

Briefly exchanging a glance, the regents followed the Queen of the Rebellion into what they supposed was her office. Once inside, the three remained standing even though there were more than enough chairs.

—This is simple— Mercia began. —I want there to be consequences for what happened. I want that Tyrant to pay.

—For what!? She did nothing! She didn't even see Mermista!— Castaspella complained.

—Then should you pay for it!?

—Pay for what!?— the sorceress insisted. —I did not force your daughter to do anything! I didn't even talk to her until she found me at the edge of the cliff on the way to Mystacor!

—Alright, alright. Enough— Angella interceded. —King Mercia, I can understand why you feel that your daughter was put in danger, but you must admit Mermista made her choice and went to Mystacor out of her own volition to help— she began. —On the other hand, Castaspella, you must understand that, while you didn't force the Princess to go to Mystacor, you shouldn't have let her into the island…

—And let my people die!? Do you think I didn't consider what could happen!? Do you think I wasn't expecting this!?

—Casta…

—For fuck's sake! I had little time to weight the pros and cons! And my conclusion was simple: lives would be lost. I very much rather sit here to argue with you two the rest of my life than let a single soul in that island die under my watch!— the young Queen blurted out, afraid to be interrupted if she spoke any slower.

—I see— Angella sighed. She then looked at King Mercia and asked —What do you think?

—As I told you yesterday, I can empathize with your problem— he began. —But my daughter went there alone, and…

—If you had agreed to let her help us, you could have sent her with all the security you deemed necessary— Castaspella pointed out, joining her hands behind her back, under the cape.

—But…

—I need you to understand that, by refusing to help us, you caused this. Your daughter eavesdropped and heard she could help us save our people. She decided to defy you for a greater good— she insisted. —I did what I could to, at least, respect your wishes to make sure she wouldn't come across Shadow Weaver, but it would have been better if you had approved of her mission and laid out what you considered the necessary security.

—Tha-that's… No-no. I won't allow you to shift blame onto me— King Mercia reacted, after a few seconds of shock.

—I am not. I'm explaining to you that there was a better way of doing things…

—Listen: I just want to make sure this won't repeat. I cannot trust you since you simply let my daughter do as she pleased instead of sending her back home— he insisted.

—And I'm telling you Princess Mermista did what was best for the people of a different kingdom, because she cares about the people of Etheria— Castaspella pointed out. —Can't you recognize it as your daughter being a good fit for ruler of Salineas one day?

—What if her selfless behaviour for other kingdoms makes her instead neglect her own!?

—Your Majesty, you can't seriously think she would be such poor judge of a situation…

—She's a teen!

—Alright, stop— Angella interceded. —This conversation is going nowhere— she sighed. —And yelling won't get us anywhere either— she added. —So, King Mercia. You ask for Mystacor to pay for a… nondescript transgression. And for guarantees that it won't happen again. What exactly are you asking for? A formal apology?

—I want… Uh… I-I just want my kid to be safe, alright?— he finally stuttered, looking down.

Silence.

The Queen no longer knew what to say.

But Castaspella did.

—Of course, I understand— she began. —I would never endanger anyone. I know Shadow Weaver can be a threat, I'm aware. So, I can absolutely promise you that I didn't and won't ever let her close to your daughter.

King Mercia fell silent.

Looking away, he pondered for a second before letting out a long sigh.

—It's quite confusing to hear you talk about that Tyrant like this when… uh, when you're…

—I know— the sorceress interrupted, smiling amusedly at his flustered behaviour. —I believe it's normal to be confused.

—In any case…— he sighed. —I suppose I overreacted a bit, after all. No harm was done, and… in fact, much harm was prevented.

—Indeed— Castaspella nodded.

As he nodded too, she took a step forward and extended her hand to shake his.

—I'm glad to know you're a regent of Mystacor too— he said, firmly shaking her hand. —Maybe, one day, I'll let my people return there to learn.

Having successfully handled the matter with King Mercia, Castaspella returned to Mystacor in a good mood.

Which didn't last long.

—Finally back? And you're not crying… I'm guessing it somehow went well?

—Wha-what do you mean- Why are you being such a bitch!?— the young sorceress reacted, slamming the door behind her. —I just barely put a foot in the room and you…

—Nothing out of the ordinary from me— the Tyrant dismissively replied.

—I just come back from solving a problem you should have solved! You and your behaviour are what got us in this mess with Salineas!

—Oh, how terrible…

—People could have died! If Princess Mermista hadn't gone against her father's wishes and helped us…

—I know. So, what?— Shadow Weaver interrupted, looking disinterested as she rested against the back of her chair.

—You cannot just dismiss this matter…

—I can, and will. It's solved now.

—Not thanks to you!

—What a problem… If you don't like it, you can always leave— she taunted her, sardonic.

Rolling her eyes, the Tyrant returned to the papers on her desk, sure Castaspella would just give up and go to have a bath or something.

But she did not.

Shadow Weaver heard the door, and just like that, the young Queen was gone.

Where the heck was she going!?

Her room wasn't there anymore! It's a storage room now!

Great…

Maybe that meant she'd return to sleep? After all, where else could she go?

Maybe Bright Moon?

It didn't matter now.

The Tyrant would find out later…

It was dinner time soon enough, and the old woman ate alone.

Then a few hours passed and still, there was no sign of Castaspella.

That woman…

Fine! She'll go look for her! Why not!

Exasperated, the Tyrant left her room and headed to Bright Moon.

However, she was surprised to learn that Castaspella wasn't there.

Micah suggested she could have gone with some friend, but even he didn't know many friends of hers…

Shadow Weaver would have to do some digging.

Just earlier, unbeknownst to the Tyrant, Castaspella had actually been struggling with this matter.

She didn't want to go to Bright Moon since she loathed having to explain what happened with the old woman, so Micah's guess was correct.

She tried to go with a friend.

But…

—Hey… So sorry to bother you, but…

—Ca-Casta!?

An acolyte about her age and height had opened the door of her room and now stared in shock at the young Queen of Mystacor.

—Sorry, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I really need help.

—My help? That's… unexpected— the woman replied, confused. —What can I help you with?

—I-I need- I need a place to stay for the night— she explained, stammering and unable to hold her sight.

—Wait, what!? You have to be kidding me— her "friend" said. —I can't possibly receive you here. You should know that. You belong to the Tyrant now.

—Excuse you!? I don't belong to anyone.

—Well, you're her partner, whatever. It still means she will kill me if she so much as thinks I touched you or something— the acolyte insisted.

—So, that's a no.

—I can't take the risk, Casta. Sorry…

The night had gotten much darker since then, and now the Tyrant wanted to find her partner as soon as possible, before the temperature dropped any further.

After asking many people at the library, those who frequented it the most, Shadow Weaver managed to gather enough information about Castaspella's past relationships. Everything pointed at one specific friend she'd surely go to for help, so that was the place to begin.

Soon, the Tyrant was at the door of the acolyte many had referred to as the last partner Castaspella had had a few years earlier…

—Who is it now- Oh, shit!

—"Oh, shit", indeed— Shadow Weaver smirked. —Where is she?

—Not here— the woman stammered.

—Really?

—Yes! I told her I couldn't receive her. I-I…

—You sent her off? You left her to, what? Sleep on the ground tonight? What a friend you are…

—No, no. I didn't mean to- I just couldn't- I didn't want to…— the acolyte stammered.

—Didn't want to make me angry, no? Funny, that's exactly what you've managed— the dark sorceress replied. —Yes, she's my partner. And you have sent her away, left her to her devices when she needed your help.

—But…

—I am now angry, because if anything happened to her, it was your fault— the Tyrant snarled.

—I-I'm so sorry…

—Listen— the Tyrant interrupted her. —If you know Castaspella as much as you supposedly do, then you should be aware of how fragile her heart can be. And you still decided to reject her?

—You can't be saying…

—I am saying it. Some friend you are… I should make you suffer for what you've done.

—Wait… I-I didn't…

—Silence— Shadow Weaver interrupted. —If you don't want to be punished, then tell me everything you know about Castaspella's places. Where would she go if she had nowhere else?

—I-if she's not in Bright Moon, or the library, then… ma-maybe the beach? She loves it…

—Not the best place to spend the night…

—She did mention sometimes that she likes the peace there and wouldn't mind sleeping at the beach.

—Worth checking, I suppose— the Tyrant admitted, pensive. —Alright. I'm letting you off the hook this once, and for her. Count yourself lucky and be more thankful next time you see her. Am I clear?

—Ye-yes, Tyrant. I'm sorry…

—I'm not the one you should apologize to— she scoffed, before turning around and stalking away.

—Su-sure…

The beach of Mystacor was certainly the most peaceful place. Other than the Steam Grotto.

But it was also… quite cold.

And yet, there she was.

Sitting near the cloud-waves, curled up, hugging her legs against her chest.

—There you are…— Shadow Weaver let out, relieved.

—Huh!? What- Why are you here?

—I've been looking for you everywhere, woman. Why do you think I'm here?

—She told you- Wait, you went to…

—Yes. I found your ex…

—Never officially my partner, so no ex— Castaspella interrupted, resting her chin on her knees and looking back at the cloud-waves coming and going.

—Oh, is that so? So she was just a terrible friend, no?

—You could say so… Or… Wasn't, but is now— she sighed.

—Why don't you tell me, then?

—We were just friends with benefits. That's all. If you have nothing else to talk about, you can leave— the young Queen let out.

—I actually have more to talk about— Shadow Weaver replied, sitting next to her.

—Speak.

—What is the matter? Why…

—You haven't realized?

—I'm asking you because I don't know. What do you want me to do? Are you angry?

—I'm- Of course! But angry isn't really the word. I'm disappointed! I'm frustrated! I'm just… Ugh! You suck sometimes!

—Seriously?

—You're so- I don't know how to explain it! You can be the best and the worst person ever! At the same time!

—Fine, then tell me…

—You want to know what's the problem!? We had a crisis! You did nothing! I did what I could, and that got us into another problem, and again you did nothing! Like, ugh! Couldn't you make an effort, at the very least, to fucking help!?

—What did you want me to do!? You could solve it! I couldn't! What the heck was I supposed to do!?

—The fact that you have to ask, that you don't know the answer to that question despite it being so simple, is part of the problem!

—Well, I cannot solve this if I don't know the answer!

—Make an effort! Spare a thought for someone other than yourself! What were you supposed to do? Something! Anything! Ask, at the very least, what you can do! Literally anything other than mocking me first thing as soon as I walk in!

—You're still mad about that!?

—Of fucking course I am!

—I was trying to…

—Don't even- No. Don't make up excuses. It was very shitty of you. That's it.

—Yes, it was…

—Good that you can admit it.

—So… You want me to apologize, is that it? Because you know I can't do that easily. You told me I was apologizing too much to you; what I understood was that I was doing it wrong, and I don't know any other way. I simply suck at apologizing.

—I know you do. But it would be nice if you still tried…

—It's ridiculous, Casta.

—It is not. Can't you do it for me, at least?

—I- Well, I mean… I don't know how.

—Then think about it. Find a way. Then maybe we can talk.

—You're… not coming back to the room, are you?

—No.

—I see…

—I want my old room back, alright?

—Sure. But, for tonight, go with your brother, at least. Can you? I'll order the room to be cleared out so you can return there whenever you need— Shadow Weaver accepted. —You can… take your time.

—Thank you. I hope you'll take the time to reflect too, and eventually find it within you to apologize. Or I'm not returning.

The Tyrant felt suddenly… cornered.

But she was right.

—Of course. I understand. I'll leave you in peace, then.

—I'll go to Bright Moon.

—Please.

—Find me when you figure out how to apologize.

—I will— Shadow Weaver promised, smirking.

With that, the regents of Mystacor farewelled, each went their own way, and didn't see each other again until the Tyrant was ready to apologize…

Or try.

Chapter Text

Eventually, much to the Tyrant's relief, Castaspella returned.

Of course it took some… work behind the scenes, but she managed it.

It felt physically painful, it was pathetic, but Shadow Weaver actually apologized to the young Queen in an admissible manner.

Good…

And just in time.

Castaspella's twenty-fifth birthday was nigh, and her brother wanted to organize a surprise party with his wife.

Well, sure, why not.

But why did Shadow Weaver have to handle keeping the secret!? She didn't really like parties or celebrating birthdays, yet… they invited her.

Ugh…

It was annoying, for the most part.

It should be a simple task, except for the fact that Castaspella actually seemed to suspect!?

The Tyrant was going insane trying to figure out what had the sorceress so paranoid without revealing the secret birthday party…

And she was miserably failing.

She wanted to scream into the void half the time.

So, so annoying!

Well, whatever, she didn't have time for this.

She'll have to… to what?

She could do nothing!

Castaspella wouldn't calm down without Shadow Weaver revealing the only secret she was keeping!

Since when was the Tyrant so incapable of keeping something under wraps!?

Whatever! Who cared!?

She should just tell her and forget about the whole surprise factor.

Maybe she could tell Castaspella to pretend she didn't know?

Ugh, who was she kidding!?

She'd ruin it all for her…

Well, in that case, maybe she could just… make Castaspella talk and elaborate all her theories?

Something, anything that would let Shadow Weaver divert the sorceress' attention until it was time for the party at last.

Anything to delay revealing it until it's time!

Whatever…

But…

She had no idea.

Well, how convenient…

The one time she needed her skills to bullshit her way through a problem, she simply couldn't.

Ugh!

Shadow Weaver was going insane. So exasperating!

Just let her talk, let her talk…

Let Castaspella focus on anything else…

That was the plan.

The young Queen was on her way back to Shadow Weaver's room when she felt a chill run down her spine.

Again.

This was the third or fourth time this same day.

What was happening!?

She had no idea, but she felt so scared…

She couldn't stop to think. She simply ran down the corridor.

Castaspella rushed to the door and got inside, closed behind her and let out a long sigh.

—What's wrong?

—Ah! Shit, you almost killed me!

—Did I?

Shadow Weaver seemed genuinely confused, enough that it made the young Queen blush.

Oops.

—So-sorry, no. I mean, yeah, but it's my fault.

—What is it now, scaredy-cat?— the old woman asked, smirking sardonically.

—Hey!

—Just tell me what's wrong.

—I felt… like, a chill. I felt observed, you know?

—Oh? Really?

—Yes. I-I don't know what's going on…

Suddenly it occured to her… that maybe Castaspella wasn’t suspicious or anything.

Maybe she wasn’t paranoid because she thought Shadow Weaver was hiding something, but rather, something else made her feel this way?

—I see…— the Tyrant sighed.

—Look, I know I sound insane, but I swear there's something!

—Something like what?

—I-I don't know! If I knew I wouldn't be so scared!

—Right… And what is this something supposed to be doing? Or want to do?

—I don't know?

—Then why are you scared?

—What if it jumps on me!?

—If what jumps on you?

—Whatever that is!

Shadow Weaver let out a long sigh.

—So you don't know what is out there, what it wants or doesn't want, or if this something exists at all, but you're convinced it might jump on you?

—Yes…

—Does that sound sane to you?

—No.

—Then what am I supposed to do?

—Can't you just… I-I don't know… Calm me down?

—I'm trying. I'm making you rationalize all of this so you realize how stupid it is to be scared…

—Well, it's not helping!

—I realize— Shadow Weaver grunted, resting down on her chair. —Come here…

—What?— Castaspella asked, albeit complying.

—Just come, sit with me.

—Where?

—On my lap?— she proposed, smirking.

—Don't try to distract me like that…

—Why not?— the Tyrant asked, holding Castaspella close as she did, in fact, sit on her lap.

—Be-because this is serious!

—What if it's not so serious?

—I-I mean…

—It might just be in your head. Whatever you're so afraid of…

—And if it's not…

—What do you think might be scaring you so much?

—I don't know!— Castaspella insisted.

—Look, for some reason, you're scared. Of nothing in particular, hence, of everything. And that's unhealthy.

—Unhealthy?

—It makes you paranoid, constantly looking around you and expecting something to jump… That's wearing you out…

—Yeah, I'm exhausted…

—Then calm down, at least now.

—But…

—I'm just- Listen, with me here, nothing can jump on you, so take this moment to rest.

—Alright, alright. I will. Tha-thank you.

—Of course…

—Ah…

Shadow Weaver took a deep breath and held Castaspella against her body. The young Queen rested her head on the Tyrant's shoulder and little by little dozed off, even if not entirely.

—I can't make many promises, but I can swear I won't let anything harm you… ever again.

—Ever again…

—Yes.

—Really, thank you— Castaspella repeated, her voice weaker. —And I'm sorry for acting like this. I don't know what's happening.

—I wish I knew. It's been days and your paranoia is only getting worse.

—Yeah…

—Have you been getting any sleep?

—A bit, yes?— the sorceress nodded. —But, it's always shallow.

—I imagined…

—What about you?

—I've been sleeping more than you, it seems— Shadow Weaver laughed.

—Yeah…

—Just rest now, then… We'll see later if we can find what's the problem…

—Do you think there really is something out there? I'm not insane?— Castaspella asked, eyes closed.

—You're not insane, but there might not be anything out there…

—So?

—So… something that may be nothing is probably triggering you in some way. I will find it and get rid of it. I swear.

—You said you couldn't promise many things…

—But I can promise you that— the Tyrant assured her. —Just don't lose your mind before I manage it— she added, smirking.

—I'll try. But I don't know… I don't… If I don't get enough sleep, I might just lose it.

Unfortunately the days prior to her birthday were only worse.

Shadow Weaver didn't think it could possibly happen, but there they were.

Castaspella began failing everything she attempted to do; being constantly stressed, it was no surprise.

But adding frustration to the paranoia was the last thing they needed.

The Tyrant was so confused, however.

After the first few years trying to make Castaspella be this paranoid, this scared, and constantly on the verge of breaking, and never managing it, why was it happening now!?

Just her luck…

The woman who refused to let fear dominate her, the woman who would hold her sight and bark back at her… was now a mess. And not a pretty mess.

This wasn't fun…

On the contrary, Shadow Weaver was starting to suffer herself seeing Castaspella like this.

And one thing became clear: She couldn't leave the young sorceress on her own.

This meant she couldn't go to Bright Moon and explain what was happening to Castaspella.

Hence, she would have to take her to the surprise party… and deal with however she reacted.

All Shadow Weaver could do was be there to make sure she wouldn't collapse.

How incredible…

In all her power, in all her might… she was powerless to help this woman when she really wanted to.

She never thought this day would come…

Hours before the arranged time, Shadow Weaver was holding Castaspella close to her, both laying in bed.

The young sorceress was shaking.

—How do you feel?

—How… do you think?— Castaspella sobbed.

—It was not your fault…

—It was! I-I-I can't do… anything!

—You can… You just need to calm down and focus…

—I can't.

—Then I want you to abstain from doing anything until you manage it— Shadow Weaver told her. —Once you feel better, once this all passes, then you can maybe return to your activities.

—But…

—No buts. You were lucky that vial exploding didn't get you or someone else hurt.

—I… I can't do nothing all day…

—I'm not saying that. I'm telling you to take a few days off.

—I can't…

—That's an order.

—What am I supposed to do, then?

—What about spending a few days with your brother?

—I don't want to be away from you…

—Casta…— she sighed. —It's for your own good. You need to…

—I just need to be here!

—No— Shadow Weaver insisted. —You need to get yourself together, and I clearly suck at helping you with that.

—I'll be fine…

—No, you won't. You're twenty-five and behaving like a six-year-old kid.

—Twenty-four…

—No.

—Huh?

—What day is today?

—I don't know!

—Casta— Shadow Weaver insisted, now pushing her back to make her look at her. —Today's your birthday, and you forgot.

—I… forgot… today… Oh, my— Castaspella muttered, sitting straight. —I'm sorry…

—Don't apologize.

—But I…

—Casta, listen to me: Let's go to Bright Moon. Yes? I'm sure seeing your brother will help you, so let's just go, and then we can see how you're feeling. If you're more comfortable there, you can stay a few days, it will probably help.

—And if I don't?

—If you don't, we'll just have to return here, and… find a way to solve this— Shadow Weaver sighed. —I have ran out of ideas, but I will rather tear everything down than see you suffer like this any longer.

—Thank you— the young sorceress sobbed, hugging her tightly. —I wish I knew what’s happening.

—I wish so too…

As they arrived at the palace of Bright Moon, Castaspella kept holding onto Shadow Weaver like before, but seemed much calmer, and at least appeared to be relaxed and careless.

Either she was acting much tougher there than in Mystacor, or she was truly more at ease than in the island.

Could there seriously be some threat in Mystacor?

Shadow Weaver had no time to dwell on it since they arrived at the dinning room.

—Why here? The door's closed.

—The guards said they were waiting for you here…

—Oh…— Castaspella uttered. —Right.

—I'll open, you can stay behind me if you feel unsafe.

—N-no, no. I-I'm fine.

—Alright. Let's open, then— the Tyrant sighed, knowing full well what would most likely happen.

Taking a deep breath, the old woman pushed the doors open, and right on cue, Micah, Angella, and a bunch of people Shadow Weaver didn't know screamed in unison.

—Surprise!

Great…

Castaspella immediately jumped in fear and latched onto the Tyrant, burying her face behind her.

The poor woman had never gripped her that tight before.

Which was saying a lot…

—It's alright, Casta…

—Sis? Are you okay?

—What?— Castaspella muttered, daring to look into the chamber, very obviously prepared for a birthday celebration. —What… is this?

—It's your birthday, Casta— Angella reminded her.

—Oh…

—What happened?

—I wish I knew— Shadow Weaver groaned, giving Micah a tired look. —Trust me this once: I don't know.

—I'm so sorry, this is beautiful— Castaspella finally said, sobbing and slowly letting go of the Tyrant. —I-I… Oh, my… Thank you all— she expressed.

—Are you sure you're alright, Sis?— Micah insisted. —Come here— he invited her, arms open to embrace her.

Shadow Weaver looked back at her, and nodded as encouragingly as she could.

Castaspella took a deep breath and went to hug her brother.

She was relaxing.

Little by little.

Good…

The Tyrant observed for a bit as she was greeted by everyone, and considered leaving her in their surely-capable hands, but the sorceress soon returned to her.

—Can you stay?

—Are you sure?

—Please.

—I guess I can…— Shadow Weaver sighed. —But I won't speak to anyone.

—You don't have to.

—I could instead be checking for whatever is scaring you in Mystacor, you know…

—I don't need that. We-we'll fix that when we return.

—Casta…

—I just want you to stay with me, please.

—Alright, alright— the Tyrant gave up.