CHAPTER 43: BLESSINGS, GOODBYES, AND HEARTACHE

The great oaken doors of the Grand Cathedral burst open with dramatic flair.

Vuvi leads the charge, wind catching her coat like a cape as she descends the stone steps two at a time. Behind her trails the rest of the team, Pip, Veena, and Penelo, each radiating a unique energy.

Focus, resolve, and boundless cheer, respectively.

Sunlight spills across the courtyard in gold-brushed waves, glinting off Pip’s metal frame like a divine spotlight. His new plating shimmers from their recent upgrades, faintly humming with energy.

Vuvi halts at the edge of the cathedral stairs, one hand raised against the blinding morning rays. "We’re not turning back," she mutters. "Not until Pip is strong enough to kick that white-haired, doll-stealing demon queen straight back into her pit."

Behind her, Veena slings her cloak over one shoulder. "Maribelle wouldn’t want us to stall. And I don’t think she plans on staying a doll for long."

"She better not," Penelo adds, adjusting her pack. "I liked her. Terrifying, yes. But like... hot terrifying. Real role model material."

Vuvi scoffs but smirks despite herself. "That woman once made a lich cry just by calling him a coward. I wouldn’t count her out yet. She’s a survivor."

Just then, a voice calls from behind them.

"Wait!"

Lihona, the ever-glowing Saint Sister, hurried down the stairs, robes flapping around her ankles. She glows, radiant as ever, despite the hurried expression and the small army of sleepy knights trailing behind her.

She rushes up to Pip and presses a soft, reverent kiss against his faceplate. "A blessing from the Church of the Great Mother. May Her light guide your shaft."

"...Path," she corrects quickly, flustered.

Penelo, standing just to the side, elbows Vuvi. "Do you think that’s a thanks-for-last-night kiss?"

Lihona flushed crimson.

Penelo grins, hands on her hips. "If so, I deserve one too. Pip didn’t do all the hard work."

Lihona hesitates, looks to Vuvi, who shrugs, and then plants a shy kiss on Penelo’s lips.

Penelo swoons. "Bless me, O’ Mother..."

Veena rolls her eyes and asks dryly, "Do I even want to know what happened in the cathedral last night?"

Penelo opens her mouth, clearly ready to regale the entire tale.

Pip gently places a finger to her lips and lets out a wise booooop.

Veena smirks. "You’re lucky you’re cute."

With final goodbyes given and spirits bolstered, the group makes their way toward Market Town’s western gate.

A small group of cultists have already gathered. They clutch homemade banners bearing Pip’s silhouette, wave incense sticks, and chant dubious scripture like, "Vibrate and ye shall be free!"

Vuvi does her best to ignore them.

As they exit the gates, the world changes.

The paved streets gave way to a rolling ocean of green. The famed Fertile Belt, a sprawling patchwork of farmland, vineyards, and flowered meadows. The air smells sweet with the scent of fresh growth and tilled soil. Crows caw in the distance, and the first of many colorful insects buzz lazily around Pip’s polished frame.

Vuvi stares across the golden plains, hands on her hips. "Ahead of us, prosperity. Behind us, insanity. Around us... beauty!"

"And adventure," Penelo adds, spinning on her heel.

"I wonder what our mothers are doing now," Veena mumbles as she pulls her hood over her horns.

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A thousand leagues to the South, beyond the Boiling Seas, far from sunshine and fresh air, the skies above the Demon Lands churn with crimson and violet clouds. Lightning flickers in eerie silence, veins of dark energy pulsing like the heartbeat of an angry god.

Here, the world lays scorched and jagged, a place where nature had long ago bowed to rage. Obsidian cliffs jut out from blackened soil. Rivers of molten light cleave through valleys like veins of corrupted magic, glowing green and purple and black. The wind carries no scent of life... only ash and sulfur, and the distant howls of creatures long since driven mad.

At the heart of this desolate kingdom sits The Black Citadel.

The Blood Fortress.

The Crimson Keep.

A domain of doom that goes by many names, but remains the home of Vexena, The Demon Queen.

The castle itself seemingly grown from the bones of the desolate lands around it. Its towers claw at the sky. Its walls ooze with dark enchantments. The banners hanging from its spires painted black on velvet, stitched with the blood-red sigil of Queen Vexena. A clawed-hand tearing asunder a broken heart.

Inside, the air is cold despite the eternal firelight. Giant braziers line the stone halls, fed by soulflame, an eerie blue fire that flickers in unnatural patterns.

And upon her massive throne, slumped in miserable silence, rests Vexena.

Her eyes red and wet. Her white hair, usually a pristine cascade, hung in disheveled knots. Her gown shimmers like liquid shadow, but she looks a ghost of her usual self.

"Why does she hate me...?" she croaks.

Eris, General of the Scythe, Royal Executioner and her most loyal, and unfortunately, only sane lieutenant, stands at her side.

"She doesn’t hate you, Your Grace."

"She looked at me like I was a monster."

"Well. To be fair..."

The Queen glares.

"I’m just saying, technically, you did turn her friend into a doll and cursed all physical love from existence."

Vexena gives a wounded growl and flings her arm over her face. "She called me pathetic. I am pathetic."

"No, no. You’re just... emotionally expressive."

A pink blur rockets into the room.

Virelle, the Demon Queen’s youngest, skids across the obsidian floor in a cloud of glitter, her oversized frilly dress bouncing as she launches herself into her mother’s lap.

"Mommy! Are you crying again?"

Vexena sniffs. "It’s just dust, my little starseed."

"Is it because of my big sister again?"

"Yes."

Virelle gasped. "Want me to zap her?"

"No, darling."

"I’ll zap her so hard she says sorry!"

Vexena chuckles and strokes her youngest daughter’s horned head. "No, love. Veena isn’t the bad guy. I am."

"You’re the best mommy ever!"

"I ruined the world, sweetheart."

"That’s okay. I still like you. A lot!"

Vexena leans back, eyes drifting toward the carved obsidian ceiling. "I was in love once, deeply, painfully in love. But he left. And... I broke."

Virelle blinks, listening intently.

"The curse spilled from me like a scream. It infected the world. I tried to stop it, but it was too late. Everything turned cold. Empty. Men couldn’t touch women. Women couldn’t find love. It was like... my pain became law."

The little demon-kin’s brow furrows. "But why didn’t you kill him?"

"I loved him too much."

Virelle tilts her head. "Then why didn’t you kill yourself?"

Vexena pauses. "I almost did. But then I found out I was pregnant with Veena. She gave me something to live for."

"And then she ran away."

"She said I ruined the world," Vexena whispers. "And she was right."

Virelle clutches her tightly. "You’re not ruined. You’re just sad. That’s not the same."

Tears fall freely down Vexena’s cheeks as she kisses her daughter’s hair.

Across the throne room, the limp Maribelle ragdoll lay slumped on a silk pillow, her button eyes dull.

Until...

A twitch.

Ever so slight.

But unmistakable.