Shattered Line

Chapter 39: Resolve

Isla muted her deliberation and returned her attention to Squirt. "Why? Because of me, why else. But the truth matters not, not anymore at least. I'll save the child."

Squirt nodded his head with slow motions. "Aye, good luck, lass."

She left his side, striding into the vacant streets. The wind breezed past, gaining momentum and strengthening with her steps. She could feel her transformation, the lightness enveloping her body, her spirit, and soul. The air swarmed to action, expelling the stench and freeing the death plaguing the living. For a mere instance, a breath of freshness.

Isla called upon Ahni, tapping her foot and waiting for words to permeate her mind.

"Our Queen, excellency, grace, the one holy sun under the sky, what goes?" Ahni chirped.

"Are winded titles needed?" Isla remarked, her gaze lost amongst the setting starlight.

"A calling card we must say."

"Drop it. What's Arcadia's status?"

A pause draped their conversation, but after the interlude, Ahni continued. "Enemies on the horizon."

Isla's heart rate accelerated. "How many? How are they armed? Are they planning to siege the capital?"

Ahni giggled. "Aw shucks, who'd have guessed, you do care. The Witch will be overjoyed."

"Shut up for a second and just answer my questions. Without side quirks too."

Another pause followed by an elongated sigh filled her head. "Fine. All's well. For now, a small group testing the waters."

"How sure are you? Details."

"The older Princess says two days maximum. The grouchy Princess says divided forces. And the Witch concludes we have time. Defenses are secured. What's your plan?"

Isla rubbed her forehead, massaging the developing knot. "Keep me posted. I might have a plan. Worse case, we'll all be dead, but a protracted war means the same thing."

"Will do. May you be blessed."

No army yet, finally, one good sign. But for one prepared and calculating like her father, she debated the reason. Did he expect her surrender, or had she misjudged the timing? Maybe the leak of information slowed his plans, instead of quick and decisive, he arranged a tight reigned annihilation. Either way, an assumed outcome was still distant. For now, she must craft her plan.

Isla relaxed her eyelids, shutting her surroundings away. She concentrated on her next destination the Chaos Realm, or specifically the Underworld. Though Lucifer warned her about returning, she neglected his advice. If all her assumptions proved correct, she had an opportunity, a single chance to end her story's tale. She would not let it go, not now.

With her resolve firm, she created layer after layer of aura around herself. She condensed her magic, forming a protective cocoon.

She imagined the mansion Lucifer entered. The darkened brick walls with flames casting shadows on the entrance. She remembered the sulfuric smell hanging upon the wind. Her body recalled the scorching heat sweating her skin dry. Her eyes knew the barren wasteland, the orange-tinted earth.

Isla breathed out a ragged breath. As she exhaled, her aura dispersed, and her gaze revealed the building from her past.

She wobbled forward, leaning against the obsidian coated structure for support. Her body required rest to replenish her depleted aura. Yet, time became critical. If she blinked, the future's flow could change.