Young Writers Society

Even Megara looked disgusted at that, "I'm still not helping," she said, out loud this time.

"Please," the queen pleaded, "the spell may have grabbed you from the wrong place in your timeline, but I assure you it is not incorrect. You are a hero in your world, or you will be, and you can be a hero here too. I need you. My kingdom needs all of you."

Megara was unconvinced, "You're...joking. That's how you plan to convince me to help out?" she said, more amused than anything.

"I'm not a hero," I finally said. "I never will be. I've done one heroic thing in my life, and I've been around a very long time. Maybe that's why your spell grabbed me. Not because I'm going to be a hero, but because I did one stupidly heroic act that I regret."

I didn't regret it.

But I wasn't a hero. I knew that much - how could I ever be one?

Queenie Isadora, to her credit, kept her cool. Outwardly, at least. There was no way of knowing what was going on behind those honey-colored eyes of hers.

"I'm a killer, love," Megara stated, testing the waters. What would it take to make her crack? "Well, that's not entirely true. Sometimes I'm a torturer, or a thief. Point is, the people I kill are innocent of any crimes that would justify their deaths, the people I steal from usually need the things I steal, and the people I torture don't deserve a second of it. And before you say anything, I'm not being forced, and I enjoy my job immensely. If that's your idea of a 'hero' I recommend maybe finding a therapist or something."

The queen wasn't cracking. Just watching, listening, calmly.

There was a long pause before the queen moved. When the pause ended, she stood and addressed the group with the kind of confidence only seen in oracles.

"You are not heroes yet," she said. Megara took note of the stubborn 'yet'. "But you will be. I summoned you here for a purpose, and you cannot return to your worlds until that purpose is fufilled. If any of you decide to do something rash to ruin my son's chances of getting on the throne, I will make absolutely sure none of you get back to your homeworlds. Am I understood?"

Megara didn't respond, but Fidel was nodding solemly.

If the queen would ensure that none of them got back, so long as one of them did something incredibly stupid...

Well, it was time to permanently de-throne a prince.

I had been thinking of helping her.

Right up until that point - right up until that threat - I had been seriously considering trying my best at saving this kingdom. Maybe not because I was a hero, but because I knew a thing or two about people having too much power that didn't deserve it.

But this?

This completely changed the game.

"You can't do that," I said. "You can't just take us from our worlds - take us from our own goals - and expect us to help you when you order it. I don't have a problem with your coup. I was actually thinking of offering my help, even if you took me from my own little quest to help you with yours."

I took a step forward and poked her in the chest with a metal finger.

"But I'm done with being ordered around," I said, my monotone voice carrying none of the anger that was coursing through me. "I'm more powerful than you'll ever be, Your Highness, and I'm honestly offended you think you're in the position to be threatening me. I could kill you right here if I wanted you to, but I'm trying to avoid mentally scarring Kirux and Fidel."

The queen appeared immune to his threatening.

She fixed him with an icy stare, intense but not malicious, and said with a tone to match, "You'll find it rather difficult to hurt me with all of that power of yours."

Megara stared. Puzzled. Realized.

She hopped down from her perch, choking down a yelp of pain when she landed on her leg, and walked up to the queen. She gently nudged Skull away to make it clear her hostility wasn't toward him at the moment and gave the queen a smile.

The knife, untrackable in its course, never reached the queen's heart. Energy, black and angry, spread like cracks through bone at the speed of lightning through Megara's hand. Explosive pain had her dropping the blade without conscious thought to do so.

She hissed, able to bite back all but that small expression of the immense pain that radiated from her hand, shooting through her veins in visible but fading black marks.

She muttered a few choice words toward the queen before stooping to retrieve her weapon and glaring at the other woman as she returned to her full - unimpressive - height.

"You can't hurt me," the queen said plainly.

"Fuck you," Megara responded.

My eyes metaphorically widened at what I had just witnessed.

I was trapped.

I was already trapped in a body that should have been mine but wasn't really, but this was a different kind of entrapment - it was the kind that made me panic, and the kind that made me want to just freeze up and not do anything. My brain flickered back to other times where I hadn't been able to control my fate.

I thought about my jar.

About Fittes.

About Bickerstaff.

The air started to grow colder around me. I was making a cold spot, but I wasn't even really thinking about it - I just felt like I was standing in the middle of the miasma that Asmira had been figuring out how to make. There was no escaping this. There was just doing what the queen wanted and hoping she would live up to her end of the bargain.

I heard movement from nearby.

Turning, I saw Kirux frowning. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, and soon he was full-on sobbing - body shaking as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I thought you were nice!" he signed. "But you're just a mean e."

It took me a second to understand what was being said, but then I quickly turned back to the queen.

"He says he thought you were nice but you're just a big meanie," I solemnly informed her, hoping that it would make her feel at least a little guilty about what she had done.

He flinched when I suddenly went to his side and pulled him into an awkward one-armed hug, but he quickly relaxed when he realized I was just trying to comfort him - I couldn't stand seeing him so upset, even though I would have normally called someone like him a crybaby.

The queen still didn't react with anything but polite pleasantness. Megara was beginning to wonder if she could express any other emotions.

"I am sorry to hear that," she said.

Megara glared. She didn't really care all that much about Kirux's feelings specifically, but seeing him upset was among the final straws.

"Skull," she snapped, "If I walk out that door, are you going to try to stop me again?"

"Nope," I said. There was a moment of hesitation between when she spoke and when I did - I couldn't get over the knot that was growing in my metaphorical stomach. If my body had been made of flesh and blood instead of metal, I wouldn't have been surprised if I suddenly had a panic attack. "It would probably be more helpful for you to stay and help us dethrone that king quicker, but I'm really in the mood to spite evil queen over here."

Kirux, meanwhile, sobbed even harder. I had expected that, but I hadn't expected when he suddenly embraced me with both arms and buried his face into my shoulder - I really had to find out what was going on with him soon.

Megara considered his words.

"Fine. Not for you," she looked pointedly at the queen, "This is selfish." It wasn't. The last place she wanted to go right now was home.

The queen nodded, "Of course it is. Now, I must speak to my son, would one of you mind retrieving him?"

Fidel, who had been mostly silent up to this point and inching his way toward Megara, mostly unnoticed, spoke to her quiet enough that only she could comfortably hear, "I need to check your wounds."

"I already did. I'm fine," she retorted at the same volume.

I glanced at our assorted group, my gaze finally landing on the crying boy that was hugging me - I knew exactly who should go get the prince.

"I think Kirux and I should do it," I suggested. "Kirux really likes him. Right, Kirux?"

In response, Kirux just kept crying.

Giving a thumbs up with a free hand, I led Kirux up the stairs before the queen could stop us. If she was going to play dirty, I would to - I'd let her son see just what she was up to. Because even if she was lacking morals, he certainly had them - I could see them from how he was handling things with Jacob.

Upstairs, the apartment was cramped, overtaken by sewing supplies and unfinished projects that hadn't been able to be stored in the main shop. In a little nich carved from the chaos, the couple bobbed and weaved about each other while a pot bubbled on the stove, fetching ingredients and engaging in pleasant, idle conversation. All seemed right with them.

That is, until Jacob spotted the pair in at the top of the stairs.

"Kirux!" he exclaimed, "You found my shop!" He was more confused than anything else. He looked to Adrian for a possible clarification.

The prince and his lover looked equally confused, but I didn't give them the explanations that they were searching for. Instead, I brought Kirux into where they were cooking - wishing I could eat some of that food - and let his sad, sobbing face give away that something was horribly wrong.

"What happened?" Adrian asked, opting for worry instead of his boyfriend's confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"It depends on your definition," I said. "You can thank your mom for Kirux and Fidel finding their way here, and for those tears, since she just revealed that she took us from our worlds and won't let us go unless we do exactly what she says."

I glanced over at Kirux, who took the look as a sign he could hug me again.

"...Is my mom still here?" the prince asked, his expression just as unreadable as my robotic one. He was looking me right in the eye - that was as much as I could tell.

"She is," I confirmed. "The queen's downstairs. She wanted us to get you, actually. She wants to overthrow your dad - with our help, of course."

Jacobs's eyes went wide in understanding.

"You must not argue with the queen!" he pleaded with Adrian, "Her majesty must be respected!"

He gave his boyfriend a desprate look.

"She is the queen," the prince agreed, "but she's also my mom."

I shrugged. "She's not my queen, the last time I checked. Even if she was, I wouldn't give her respect." I didn't know anything about rebellion directed towards parents; I hadn't exactly gotten that far in my life with my own. All I could do was hope that he was a bit more independent than Jacob was.

Adrian looked over at Jacob, hesitation and worry flickering across his face. After a moment of that awkward silence passed, he gave a tiny nod.

"Then I should go see her," he said.

Jacob looked like he wanted to protest again, but he said nothing, just stood behind his prince and fell into his role as servant, head down, hands clasped, the only sign of his worry being his glances at Adrian's back.

xXx

Meanwhile, Megara was giving everyone a death glare as Fidel sat her down and re-checked her perfectly fine wounds. By the look on his face, he didn't agree that she was at all perfectly fine.

The queen watched curiously, the wheels in her head turning as she discovered piece by piece why each individual had been chosen by her spell.