Chapter 43 A Chapter of Broken Spells and Predictions
Em’s Subtitle: Uncursing the Damn Tower
Like any Great Author, Em took a trope and twisted it.
Instead of a True Love’s Kiss, she reveled in the heated rage pouring between her wet lips against Kriqir’s.
She had him caught in a True Hate’s Kiss, and she let it linger as she let Brolzross’ relic work its magic on the necromancer.
The whimper that slipped past his gasp was almost enough for her to pull away, but she held on tight, their teeth scraping.
Kriqir staggered in her hold, eyes wide.
With one last breath, he fell limp, their kiss ripped apart.
The magic of the relic died with him.
Em caught the necromancer’s corpse as he dropped, gently laying him onto the ground. Her villain’s eyes stared up at the same death he often twisted his magic in, frozen forever in pure shock at her betrayal. His final, minty breath still warmed her cheeks.
She wiped her mouth and stepped over Kriqir’s body.
Prophecy, completed.
“Em!” Gair and Roden both stumbled to join her, wrapping her in their arms.
At their warm touch, under the agony of glass in her legs and a concussion swelling through her aching skull, Em fell to her knees and wept.
For the pain sweltering through every inch of her body.
For the dead villain who never got a chance to see that his dreams of Novella being free of a Great Author were fulfilled. For her story. For herself.
“You did it,” Gair whispered, stroking her hair.
Roden rubbed her shoulders, leaning his head against her other side, and she clung to them both. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you, princess,” he murmured against her ear.
Their proximity thawed the icy chill Kriqir’s haunting magic left lingering in her bones and blood. Em shivered. For a moment, she forgot about everything except the healing closeness of friendship.
“True Love’s kiss,” Roden muttered, scowling to himself as he pulled away from their group hug. “The most powerful and magical thing in the universe. The most well-known end to a climax in all the history of Novella.”
“A cliché ending for a shitty-ass quest,” Em somehow laughed past the pain.
“I thought kissing and romance weren’t your thing?” Roden raised a wry eyebrow. “Or do you happen to have a masochistic kink you hide so Polo doesn’t make fun of you?”
“I needed a slam-bang end,” she shrugged. “So, I took the most stereotypical heroic thing and made it my own.”
“You never cease to amaze me,” Gair chuckled. He slipped a healing potion into her hands, and Em sipped at the energizing, sticky substance. The ache in her skull faded, while the bruises and cuts stopped stinging, and she felt the shards of glass pop free from her skin.
Get up, Em. Look at what you did.
A gentle rumble festered across the tower.
“Look!” Gair pointed.
Shadows peeled away from the walls of the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower as a wave of glitter transformed the cracked surfaces into pure, white marble. The necromancer’s books withered away into ash, and his jars of dark potions shattered.
Crystals grew on the ceiling where skulls and evil wards once hung, casting rainbow reflections across the chamber.
Window bars became stained-glass windows, while burnt, broken rafters snapped back into place as floral murals painted themselves over the raw surface.
Weapons racks melded into fountains or angelic statues.
Orc corpses faded away into the sooty winds as a rush of warm magic cleared away the stench with rosy air.
Em rose to her feet, soaking in the transformation. The curses fell away, the tower healing around her. With each shift and magical chance, the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower became the Uncursed-Yet-Once-Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower.
Yes, I hate myself for writing that whole name.
Kriqir the Living’s body was the last object to disappear, and she quietly wished his soul was at rest somewhere else in Novella. Maybe Stephanie would have the mercy to give the unfortunate, cliché villain a second chance as a ghost.
The distant battle horns and cheers of her armies echoed throughout the cleansing chambers.
Em raced to the wide window across the room and flung it open. Stepping out onto the balcony, she faced her world. A new dawn spread over Novella’s horizon in greeting.
Thunderous applause rose at the sight of her, as the imps, Wood Elves, Fae, and other various soldiers celebrated the sight of their victorious Chosen One.
Sasha and Em’s gazes met, and the dryad gave her a singular nod of approval.
Em raised Destiny’s Song, Reaver of Diligence, in triumph.
“All hail the Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower!” Polo cried out, fist to the sky.
Salutes and cheers followed, and one by one, her armies knelt and bowed to their new Queen. The siege camp burst into an Elvish song. Rose petals rained from the sky like fluttering confetti from who-knew-where, but no one cared.
“Let’s go celebrate!” Gair called from inside the glimmering tower.
Em tore away from the balcony, racing down the spiral staircase with her friends in tow. Gair and Roden whooped behind her. Her bloody boots left prints on each stair, and her shredded, ragged dress was still smudged in ash and orc guts, but she didn’t care.
A weight lifted from her shoulders, and for the first time since Faylorn had set foot on her cottage porch, Em Smith was no longer bound to a shitty prophecy.
“That was the best questline ever!” Polo cheered, dancing with his own tail.
Em’s head still spun with the thousands of hugs and handshakes she’d received from her armies before the siege camp began to dissipate. The volunteer soldiers had packed up to return to their various homes throughout Novella after their celebrations.
Ming just grinned as she wiped ash off herself, the Tiefling girl a whole new shade of pastel lavender under the layers of debris from her explosive distraction.
Smoke still billowed into the heavens from the smothered forests that originally surrounded the Uncursed-Yet-Once-Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower.
Between the fallen tree stumps, rose bushes had begun to spring up and sprout with the same magical force that had cleansed the tower.
“Well done, Em.” Her mentor-in-training slapped her on the back. “This was definitely one for the books.”
“You get your wish, sweetheart?” Sasha asked.
“Almost.” Em blushed under the excited stares of her friends clustered around her. She clung to the flask of some sweet cocktail the dryad had handed her.
Together, her party partook in a post-celebratory drink.
It helped clear away the sickly-sweet remains of the dragon relic from the back of her throat.
Or the taste of Kriqir’s minty breath. She shuddered, still haunted by the iciness of the necromancer’s magic despite the half-dozen healing potions Gair forced her to take.
At this rate, she might never lose the cold sensation he left in her bones after his death.
“I still need to see pir story as a physical book copy on my front porch before it feels real,” Em admitted.
“Here here!” Polo cheered.
“And choose how the plot will end,” she added.
“Oh?” Roden raised a curious eyebrow.
“Stephanie promised me that I get to decide how and when the story ends,” Em said. “But I still haven’t figured out what I think the perfect ending will be.”
“You could just never end it, Highness,” Polo cut in. The imp hugged Gair, but the dragon mutant shoved the giggling sidekick off him. “That way we can be together forever!”
Please, no.
“No thanks, I have college classes to start soon,” Gair said. “But I’d definitely relive every minute of it if I could.”
“And I have a graduation to attend soon, right after I finish my senior thesis,” Ming added. She nudged Em, beaming. “Ugh, Em, I’m just so proud of you! You did it!”
Em blushed, warm with relief.
“You owe me.” Sasha took the flask from Em and took a swig. “Big time.”
Shit. She automatically checked her torn pockets for Inky, but the pen was long gone on the other side of the FOURTH WALL. She’d never written the piles of gold she’d promised the guild dryad for joining her adventure.
“I’m just teasing, sweetheart,” Sasha burst into giggles, then hiccupped.
“You’ve had plenty of that,” Em pulled the drink away from the other girl. “And I’ll make sure to inform the Wood Elves that you get a fair portion of Brolzross’ hoard when they finally dig it up.”
“Sounds good to me.” Sasha grinned.
“Are you drunk?” Roden asked her.
“Maybe.” She hiccupped again.
“Go figures,” he growled.
Em raised her flask to her friends. “Thank you for everything. For your forgiveness during my lowest days, for your trust during my craziest days, and for every single one of your fucking tropes that taught me there’s more to life than originality.”
“Here here!” Polo cheered again.
“Every reader who ever picks up your book will enjoy it,” Ming said. “Trust me. You’re going to inspire thousands!”
“She’s right,” Gair said. “And I’ll be first in line to buy it at the bookstores.”
“No, I will!” Polo hugged Em’s legs. “I’ll buy a million copies!”
“Guess this is where we say goodbye, huh, princess?” Roden held out his hand, and Em shook it.
“I guess so,” she admitted. “But it’s just a temporary goodbye, I’m sure we’ll all run into each other again on other adventures and quests. Besides, I fully intend on rewriting the deed to that sparkly tower in your name.”
“You mean it?” the half-elf’s voice cracked, his stereotypical brooding facade melting away.
“How else will it stay in the Wood Elf family?” Em laughed. “Why, of course, I’ll give you the tower, Roden. Consider it an apology gift.”
“I accept.” Roden gently kissed her cheek, earning a stiff glare from Gair.
“Part ways?” Polo demanded exaggeratedly. “You mean, like we have to all leave?”
“Duh!” Ming said, ever growing into her mentorship role.
“The quest and prophecy are done. Isn’t that the goal?
Finish one plot and send ourselves off on the next?
Just imagine, think of all the adventures we can go on thanks to your story ending, Em!
All of us, someday in our own novels, just because we’re featured in yours when your Great Author publishes it! ”
“Oh, I’m so paying Myffie a visit at that One Bed Inn!” Polo giggled. “I bet I’ll find myself a hot, accepting Fae somewhere in that Holly Town.”
“And I’ve got a Doomed Mountain to dissect for gold and other antiques,” Sasha said. “Maybe I’ll use the dragon hoard to stir up some new archeological Side Quests for the guild.”
“I think before Larian’s freshmen orientation, I’ll take a weekend trip to the Dashner Mazes in Bradbury City to see what ways one can cross-study in both Dystopian and Fantasy,” Gair mused. “What do you say, Em?”
“I think that’s all amazing.” She eyed her friends, pulse fluttering. This was everything she’d hoped for, and more.
Polo bounced on his toes, twirling the cord on his straw hat and flicking his tail.
Roden grimly smirked, his arms crossed and confidence in his stance as he was too distracted by surveying the tower behind her.
Sasha twirled her knife in one hand and a thin braid in the other, her amber eyes glowing with excitement at the thought of all the gold she was inheriting.
Ming had one hand on her hips, the other tugging at one of her half-shattered horns from the explosion she’d set earlier.
And then there was Gair, who flashed her a perfect pearly grin, mussing his hair and straightening his ranger cloak.
Her smile grew, if it were possible.
She’d done it.
Forget about her successes from rewriting her story into the plot of her chaotic dreams. She’d somehow transformed her friends into original characters despite their mayhem and tropes.
Her friends could escape the cycle of being Side Characters and go out to try to achieve their own dreams, adventures, and, if their lives lead them to it, books.
If she could do it, they could too.
Watch out, Stephanie, Em thought to her Great Author as she gave each friend a final hug. These are your next Main Characters—and they’re going to be filling your laptop with so many insane plots soon, you’ll regret ever giving me this one.
Don’t worry. I’m ready.