Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

New Beginnings

"Hey dweebs," Priscilla said, removing a bouquet of purple flowers from her basket, "I brought these for you." She placed them beside the large marble headstone as Mister Pumpernickel nuzzled up against her shoulder. "They reminded me of the ones in the Icy Mountains. Mulock, I know you probably think bringing flowers is lame, but I figured at least Wheeler would appreciate the sentiment."

Priscilla's bouquet wasn't the only one. Hundreds of flowers surrounded the grave, blanketing the ground in a sea of colors left by countless others who'd come to pay their respects. She sat down now, propping her chin up with one hand. As she did, Mister Pumpernickel began to excitedly hop up and down on her shoulder.

"Oh yeah," Priscilla exclaimed, perking up. "Mister Pumpernickel wanted to sing a song for you." She chuckled. "Mulock, wherever you are, you might want to cover your ears."

The toad began to croak out a little melody. Normally his singing made Priscilla want to rip her ears off, but now she found it strangely calming. Her eyes fluttered shut as the warm afternoon sun soaked into her skin, a gentle breeze ruffling through her curls. Sitting like this made Priscilla feel, for just a moment, that Mulock and Wheeler were actually there beside her.

"Dozing off?" a voice called.

Priscilla's eyes shot open as she quickly bowed her head. "Actually, I was just reminiscing, Your Majesty."

"Reminiscing," the empire's newly crowned leader repeated. "Funny, lately I've found myself doing the same."

Priscilla's gaze drifted to the armful of roses Avery carried. "You brought flowers too?" she mused, gesturing to her own bouquet, lost amongst the others.

Avery nodded, glancing down at the rainbow of petals and blossoms surrounding the grave. "Not very creative, are we?"

"Nope," Priscilla chuckled.

"I wish there was a better way to thank them," Avery said, carefully laying down his flowers.

"Come on, we both know Wheeler would adore this," Priscilla replied with a smirk. "He'd probably be like..." She widened her eyes and lowered her voice, "Ohmygosh! They're all so pretty! Everyone brought these for me?! That's so nice of them!" She finished the impression off with a bright grin, the signature Wheeler expression. "And we both know that anything that makes Wheeler happy makes Mulock happy by extension. Even if he tries to hide it." She paused, her grin slipping. "Tried."

God, she missed them. Her gaze locked with Avery, his expression mirroring her own.

"I like to imagine," Priscilla said softly, " that they're together, wherever they went. As long as they are, then I know they're happy."

Silence fell between them, but it wasn't an unpleasant one, both lost for a moment in their own thoughts.

"So," Avery finally said, "you're still planning on leaving?"

Priscilla nodded. "Yeah, our ship and crew departs tomorrow morning."

"We'll be sad to see you go," Avery said softly. "What do you plan to do?"

"Travel mostly," Priscilla replied, leaning back on her hands. "I'm hoping to discover a way to cure Peter and the other Royal Mages. Frances heard rumors of some mythical herb in the Western Isles. Legend says it can cure magic of the mind, so I figure looking for it is as good a start as any."

"Well," Avery said with a laugh, "sounds like you have quite the adventure ahead."

"Hopefully," Priscilla replied with a grin. "Thanks to my two best friends constantly dragging me into them, I've found I've gotten surprisingly attached to them."

***

Priscilla and Frances walked hand and hand towards the harbor, Mister Pumpernickel perched on Priscilla's shoulder. The briny sea breeze filled her lungs as they approached, sunlight dancing off the turquoise waters. As Priscilla was about to step onto the docks, someone slammed into her, nearly sending her toppling over. She spun around, ready to give whoever it was a stern talking to. However, as her gaze locked on the perpetrator, Priscilla froze.

A small boy stood there, wild red curls sticking up around his freckle dusted face. The familiarity he had to a certain someone was enough to make Priscilla's chest ache despite herself.

"Sorry miss," the boy stammered. "I'm on the run from the Grand Emperor!"

Priscilla blinked. "The Grand Emp--"

"REBEL EMPEROR WHEELER, GET BACK HERE!" another voice called as a dark-haired boy charged forward, followed by a miniature army of children wielding sticks.

The red-head stuck out his tongue. "Never!" He darted out from behind Priscilla, sending the other children rushing at him.

"Quick!" the dark-haired boy bellowed. "I want him surrounded! MWAHAHAHA!"

As the youngster finished his evil laugh, the stick wielding children did their best to scramble into a messy circle around the red-head.

The captured boy simply shot them a gap toothed grin. "Aha! You may think you've caught me, but really...you've just fallen into my trap! Mulock! NOW!"

Priscilla spun around just in time to jump out of the way as a second stampede of children, led by a boy with large circular glasses, charged through. They burst into the circle of stick wielding kids, causing an all out wrestling match to break out until the dark-haired boy finally threw up his hands.

"Fine, you guys win. Game over." The dark-haired boy slowly rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his clothes. "Can I be Wheeler next round?"

"No way!" another child protested. "I already called being Wheeler."

"No me!" a third chimed in, her cries of protest followed by a few others.

"But I play him best," the red-head pointed out. "My mom told me I have his famous good looks."

"Oh shut the hell up, Phillip," the dark-haired boy snapped. "First off, that's soooo totally not true. Second, you've already gotten to be him the last four rounds while I keep getting stuck as the stupid evil old emperor. That's not fair."

"But you make such a good villain, Alfie," Phillip whined, throwing his arms around him.

"Well I don't wanna be the villain."

"Then be chief strategist Mulock--"

"Hell no!" the glasses boy snapped. "I'm always Mulock. The chief strategist was a genius, and we all know I'm the smartest, so I'm the only one who can play him."

"What! THAT'S NOT TRUE, FINIGAN!"

Following this statement, an explosion of bickering broke out between the children.

Priscilla laughed, watching the ordeal until Frances gently tugged on her arm.

"As entertaining as this is," the former knight said with a laugh, "we have a boat to catch."

"Right," Priscilla replied, flashing Frances a smile. "The Royal Mages aren't going to cure themselves."

Priscilla cast one final glance at the red-haired boy before she finally turned back to the water, her gaze locking on the beauty of a ship rising up from the waves before her. Its sails were unfurled, waiting for them, its name painted across its length in large sea-green letters— 'The Pumpernickel.'

It was a rather silly name, but she figured Wheeler would've been over the moon about it.

"Alright then," Priscilla said, giving Frances's hand a squeeze. "On to the next adventure."

Mister Pumpernickel let out an excited croak from her shoulder, causing Priscilla to laugh, the sound ringing through the air as they made their way towards the boat and into their future.