The Law of the Prince Charming

Chapter 5.2

Tabitha opens her eyes to see a stone ceiling. For a moment she lays there, trying to gather her thoughts. She tries to sit up only to feel something tighten around her. She lashes out instinctively.

"Relax, you're safe." Wildrose says.

Tabitha's panic subsides on hearing his voice. She has managed to tangle herself in the blankets of a bed. She extracts herself and sits up.

Wildrose is standing with his back to her, facing a table and a towering set of shelves. Each level of the shelf is packed with items. There are books with titles suggesting magical theory and instruction, some jars with various contents and labels, a number of glowing remnants, and several items that are likely artifacts. Below the table is a large chest, and to the side a battered wardrobe. There is also a tiny fire on the edge of the table, over which a teapot sits, heating. Wildrose holds a remnant, that looks like an ice crystal, over one of his cards.

"What are you doing?"

He lifts a finger into the air, asking her to wait. After a moment, the remnant comes apart and the magic sinks down into the card. He turns, holding it up. "I'm recreating the artifacts I've spent." The face of the card has a ball of ice falling from the sky. One of the ones he used against the hellhounds. "Seemed like a good use of time while you were asleep." He sets the card back on the table.

"What ...happened?"

"Your tale is starting to move you. Your role drew you in so quietly that neither of us noticed." Wildrose takes the teapot and pours a cup. "What happened to your sword?"

"What do you mean?" Tabitha turns to see her sword in a sheath, resting on the small table next to the bed. She remembers breaking the mirrors and the broken shards being drawn into the blade. And the odd glowing.

"It was a nice sword, and now it's an artifact," he says.

"An artifact? Wait, is this the locus for my tale?"

"Unlikely, but it did go from being non-magical to being very magical. I'm interested in how that happened." He offers her the cup of tea.

Tabitha accepts and sips it while looking at the sword. Her mind flicks over the mirrors and the roles she could have chosen. She had smashed all of them. The warmth of the tea flows into her. "This is delicious."

"I'm glad you like it. Tea can be quite calming."

She sets the cup on the stand by the bed and picks up the sword. It feels no different than before. "Wait, I don't have a sheath for this sword ..." she pulls the sheath from the blade and immediately feels the magic within the sword pressing into her hand. Everything in the room begins to glow.

Wildrose steps toward her, reaching out. "You're going to want to control the magic coming off of that." He has a glow around him as well, only his is moving steadily through him. She doesn't understand what it is, but feels like she should.

Tabitha takes hold of the pressure and settles it back into the sword where it belongs, just like moving the remnant Laws within her. The glowing vanishes.

"Yes ..." Wildrose drops his hand, confusion on his face. "Exactly like that."

Tabitha looks at her other hand. "Where did the sheath go?"

"The sheath and the sword are the same artifact, so it didn't go anywhere," Wildrose offers.

The door to the room busts open and Tabitha stands, shifting the sword into a defensive position in front of her. The sword's magic shoves against her hands and the glows flare back into her vision.

"What was that?" the Huntsman eyes her. The glow around him is different from the one around Wildrose, and noticeably brighter.

"Prince," Wildrose says. "The magic is leaking out again."

Tabitha feels the pressure of the magic, and pushes back against it until it feels like it is firmly held within her sword.

"Was that the sword? I could feel it. Every demon in the castle started converging. I thought you had it contained." The Huntsman says tightly.

"It was contained, and then it wasn't," Wildrose replies.

"Wait a minute, are we in your castle?" Tabitha asks, only now noticing the black stone of the room's walls. She grips the sword more tightly and the glow vanishes.

"I told you, you're safe. This is my room and the demons can't come here," Wildrose glares at the Huntsman. "Despite appearances, Black can actually control the demons within his castle."

Tabitha takes a deep breath. "So my sword really is an artifact." She thinks of the sheath that was on the sword when she woke up, fitting it perfectly and holding in all of its magic. A sheath forms over the sword. "I think I understand. It can be different things, just like the copies of me in the mirrors."

"Copies?" Wildrose asks.

"There were different versions of me," Tabitha says. "A role inside each mirror."

"You picked one?" he looks at her more closely.

"No, I ...smashed them and the shards got pulled into my sword."

"Of course you did." Wildrose smiles, bemused. "Well it was likely the Law of the Reflection. I knew you were part of a tale, and your sword becoming magical proves it. Though I wonder if that was the intended outcome or if you were supposed to pick one of the roles."

"Stop talking about my life like that." Tabitha frowns. "Besides, shouldn't you know what's supposed to happen, Storyteller?"

"Well I don't have all of the tales memorized. Some of them are rather rare or obscure, plus new tales do appear on occasion." He shrugs. "You know. If you had chosen the mirror with the prince in it, you might've been able to go home. Why didn't you?"

Tabitha looks down at her sword. Why didn't I choose?

"I really hate to interrupt this introspection, but I was just coming to tell you; we reached Graymist and we have a bit of an issue."

"Issue?"

"The magic levels in the city are dangerously high," the Huntsman says.

"Well then we have a role to play," Wildrosesays.