On the evening of Sunday, 2nd Auptrin, 23rd and last year of my father Peter III of Ioa, I set camp in the woods southeast of Hurlon, alone with my horse Emberstep and my haunted items.

I had used what Greg might call a “one ping only” through the earring link to check that Rebecka was somewhere to the southeast (perhaps Lodin) and was being carried unconscious toward Spearland. If they stopped there, I would overtake the wagon or carriage she was being transported in the next day, and if they did not stop, I would at least catch up to Prince Peter before he reached Excelsior.

I had just commanded Martinia to set a ward when I felt a familiar tingle in my head. I held up the wand and responded. Carnel!

Arillia, we found the spot where Rebecka was ambushed. They had burned the bodies, but Rebecka and Sharon seemed to have taken out a dozen of their assailants before being overwhelmed. Sharon seems to have been the only horse that was killed.

If the bodies were burned, how could you tell that the horse was Sharon?

The bridle had no bit. Are you sure that Rebecka is alive?

I haven’t felt her active mind, but she seems unconscious. I can sense that you’ve remained in Kristophoro.

And you’re headed to Spearland. Don’t go alone. Rebecka wouldn’t expect you to risk yourself like that.

Rebecka knows that I don’t shy away from your responsibilities.

Your Highness, your responsibility is to all of the people of Ioa. Return home, and don’t walk into a trap.

Carnel, I’ve got this one. I’ll bring back Rebecka safely.

Arillia, you once told me about “Famous Last Words,” and you’re sounding like that.

I’ll tell you the outcome after winning the fight tomorrow night. You can’t catch up to me now, so sit tight and wait.

You mentioned using Bernoulli’s principle to lift wings into the air, but you’re right; I haven’t yet figured out how to use that to fly. If you die on me, I will never ever forgive you.

Goodnight, sweet princess.

“Greg, Carnel says going up against Prince Peter and his men is hopeless. Is she right?”

In the game, you cut through demon armies once you have the wand and saber in hand. How are a few humans expected to stop you?

Late the next afternoon, I found the manor house and could sense that Rebecka was on the top floor, but she seemed to be very weak.

I Waited until night, summoned a fog, and, using the senses the undead lent me, snuck up on the two men guarding the gate, slept them, dragged them into the bushes, and tied them up.

I walked to the manor house in the concealment of the fog, and then, using Sparot’s strength, I climbed to the roof.

I observed through the skylight that Prince Peter was pacing back and forth. I waited for him to turn away, cast reverse Holddoor to open the skylight, and jumped down behind him.

“Where is Rebecka?” I asked him.

“You’ll find her corpse in the next room. She succumbed to her injuries a short while ago. It’s a pity, as I was expecting a Blessed Girl from Excelsior tomorrow. But I don’t need her anymore as I have the real princess before me. Surrender Arillia. You can’t escape. My men would cut you down.”

“What escape? We shall walk out of here hand in hand, and I shall make you the king of Hahnunah. All you need do is pledge here and now to love, honor, and obey me in all things.”

“I think not. I wouldn’t be Emperor Ramolino’s puppet, and I surely wouldn’t let a foolish princess put a leash around my neck. It is you who will yield to my will.” Prince Peter drew his sword.

I pulled out my wand and sword, but the distraction of managing two tools made me a fraction slower than Peter, and he swatted the wand from my clumsy grasp. I responded with a slash of the Sword of Wraith, breaking his sword in half, but he twisted around his half sword to swat the fingers of my left hand, and I lost my grip.

I was again distracted as I looked left and right to see which was closer, my wand or sword. Peter had no such confusion as he snatched up the haunted saber and held its point at my throat. “Arillia, you can die here and now,” He pulled a potion from his pocket. “Or you can drink this. You won’t fully awaken afterward, but in your dreamlike state, you shall be my queen and the mother of my heir.”

“I choose death.”

“As Your Highness demands. Die by your own cursed blade, and your sister shall be queen.” He made to thrust the sword. “What?” He put his left hand over his right and was still unable to move the blade.

“Quickly, lass!” Peter’s expression changed. “I can only hold the lad for a moment.”

“Sparot?” I scrambled for my wand. “A pity, as Peter would have been the perfect puppet.”

Your dream wedding can still occur.

“Martinia?”

We can reverse the spirit binding, but the ritual is complex. It’s best if we cast it together.

“Very well, Martinia. Let us cast together.” I chanted along with Martinia’s voice in my head, and then I was overcome by dizziness and found myself flying through the air to land in the corner. But my body was still standing there, and this Arillia spoke. “How fare you, Sparot?”

“The lad’s spirit is easy to control. These children of today are so weak-willed. Why should I not strike thou down, witch?”

“Are you such a man who would slay a woman who is unarmed?” She removed my jacket. “And naked?” She started to unbutton my shirt.

“What trickery is this?”

“Sparot, this is your chance to be king, and for my own reasons, I need your seed. Be my lover, my husband, our king.” She took off bra, boots, socks, pants, and finally, panties and stood before him naked with arms spread.

“It has been too long.” He let the sword drop from his fingers, and she was on him in a moment, greedily removing his clothing. As per my oath, she rode on top of him, leaving his stolen hands free to roam all over my body.

He looked down at where they were joined. “Blood? Thou wert a virgin?”

“Worry not, my love. Prince Peter’s petite penis is the perfect practice prick for a puckered-pussied princess like Arillia. As I have your children I will provide you with potions to grow your member to always perfectly pierce me.”

I could do nothing but watch everything from my vantage point as a wand in the corner of the room as Martinia (in my body) rode Sparot (in Prince Peter’s body) until late in the night. No matter how much I silently screamed, Greg did not respond. I doubt the newly joined couple even noticed when one of Prince Peter’s men glanced in from the door and withdrew.

The next morning, Martinia redressed my stolen body in my adventuring clothes, bent down, and spoke to me. “Spirit of the wand, do you see that I now carry in my womb the next heir to the Fireblood line whose life you are bound to protect?” She snatched me up and then continued. “And by the second binding, you are bound to follow the commands of the wielder of the wand.”

Martinia! Give me back my body!

“Oh, be quiet for now.” She turned back to Sparot, who had also dressed his stolen body. “What is it, my sweet prince?”

He contemplated the sword in his lap that had contained his soul for two centuries. “Would it not be best to dispose of these two?”

“That we cannot do. The first rule of necromancy is never to release a soul that has a living body to return to. And just as Peter’s soul maintains your strength from life for you, Arillia is an expert spellcaster who is bound to my command. We should keep these fetishes close and guard them like our stolen lives.” She turned back to the wand she held. “Now, spirit of the wand, tell me truthfully. How do you use this strange power of compulsion?”

Sparot held his blade to her throat. “What is this, my love?”

“Not for you, my sweet. We need to convince Prince Peter’s men.”

“Thou hath somehow overlooked Arillia’s greatest ability as an actress.” He put away his sword. “All you need do is cling to my arm and act like my drug-addled whore.”

“Your voice is slightly off. Let me cast a glamour of Peter over Peter’s body as I have done with Arillia. Thou shall also need to mind thine word choice.”

“Yes, make it so.”

She cast the spell, and then they walked downstairs and stood before Prince Peter’s gathered men.

“This men, is the real Princess Arillia, and she was as foolish as I told you she would be.”

“What? I’m not foolish, am I?”

“Why no, Your Highness, you’re perfect, just as you are. Now, each of you, please introduce yourselves to the princess. Make sure to speak slowly and carefully so that she understands you.”

“Your Highness, I am Ezra Oliverson.”

“Oh.” Martinia paused momentarily, tilted her head away from Sparot, then returned to leaning against him. “That’s nice.”

“Prince Peter, why does she have her wand?”

“The wand contains a powerful spirit that can cast spells at her command. You will cast spells for me, right, Arillia?”

“Yes, Peter dear. Anything you say.”

The rest of the band of thugs introduced themselves, then Sparot commanded them to carry Rebecka’s corpse down to the yard, where he removed her earring and put it in his own ear, then “commanded” Martinia to order me to burn the body.

“Now we must return to Kristophoro and be wed!”

“Why the change of plans, Prince Peter?” Ezra asked.

“With Arillia at my side, none shall question me. And then I shall be heir to both Excelsior and Ioa!”

“Wait.” Martinia slowly turned to Sparot. “I’m heir to Ioa. Aren’t I?”

“Princess Arillia, once you are queen, I shall be king.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s right.”

The two young-again lovers continued to play their parts all the way back to Kristophoro. They loudly copulated every night, and once, when they stopped to bathe together in a stream, they could tell that Prince Peter’s men were watching, so Sparot guided Martinia with his stolen fingers on her stolen nipples to blow him while she jilled herself.

Several times on the journey home, Carnel attempted to contact me, but without Martinia’s permission, I couldn’t cast the response spell. I could tell from her attempts that she remained in Kristophoro, and from this, she ought to be able to trace my path back towards her.

The group rode through our city and castle gates, with my face opening the way. The possessed pair dismounted and Emberstep made no complaint as she was led away to her familiar stable. Sparot and Martinia walked hand in hand to the keep where my parents were waiting.

I screamed silently for my parents to run away, but it was Martinia who spoke. “Your majesties, I have brought Prince Peter to be my husband.”

If I still had a heart, it would have run cold as Polly ran up to me. “You’re not Arillia!”

Sparot drew his saber and decapitated her. It took her a month to recover from that, but to this day she always wears high collars in order to hide the only permanant scar I’ve ever seen on a Blessed Girl.

Prince Peter’s men took this as a signal to attack the castle’s guards, and a general melee broke out.

My parents turned and ran for the door to the keep. Martinia pointed her wand at them and commanded me to kill them, but I resisted.

“Oh, they are Firebloods, aren’t they?” She drew on my mana and quickly chanted the Lightning spell. One quick flash later, I could tell that they were both dead.

Prince Peter’s men had almost finished off the guard when Sir Hoofblack charged directly towards Sparot. Martinia commanded me to Lightning my sword instructor, and this time I could not resist.

Suddenly, there was a strong gust of wind through the courtyard, carrying a score of daggers. Prince Peter’s men went down with daggers in their eyes. Sparot parried off the two daggers that closed in on Peter’s body, and I used a counter wind to push the daggers away from Martinia, but Carnel subtly adjusted her winds to redirect these back.

“Spirit of the wand, answer me. From where is your sister observing this fight?”

I do not know where Carnel is.

“Then how is Princess Carnel seeing where to direct her magics?”

She has enchanted the gargoyle statues on the keep.

“Clever girl!” Martinia commanded me to Lightning these, but in her distraction, she didn’t see Elizabeth charge Sparot.

Sparot thrust his sword through Elizabeth’s heart, but she took one more step forward and hit the side of his head so hard that it broke his neck. They fell dead together.

“My prince!” In her panic, Martinia turned towards Prince Peter’s body then stopped. “What do you mean this is just like the game, but with the roles reversed? What game? Who mocks me? Show yourself, nave!”

“You’ll punish me?” Martinia looked around. “How? Stop that dreadful off tune singing. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Martinia dropped the wand that contained my soul in order to clamp her hands over ears and close her eyes tightly.

As I was no longer in her grasp I no longer had her permission to cast spells to defend her and with her eyes closed she didn’t see the flying dagger that stabbed her in the eye.

And with his sacrifice it was “Game Over” for Greg. I wonder if he returned to his world?

Three decades later, at Carnel’s deathbed, her son picked up her wand for the very first time.

Hello, King Arnold. I’m your aunt Arillia.

“Aunt Arillia? Why are you in Carnel’s wand?”

Well, I was going to try to cheer you up with A New Hope, but if you really want to hear it, I’ll relay the sad tale of the Wicked Witch of the Midwest, as you command. It all started on the evening of my 18th birthday with a silent prayer.

Map available at: https://hcobb.com/images/Ioa.png