It’s a stroke of luck that Elen had noticed her Brooch shining. It was just the thing to snap her back to her senses before she really passed out from the pain, or she and Māra would’ve been crushed.
As it stands now, they have a bigger problem. Another beast, one that looks like some eldritch lion, has apparently decided that now is the perfect time to crash into the platform in its attempt to cause mayhem. From the screams and stomping echoing in the platform, Elen concludes that it achieved its desired result.
Elen coughs as she looks around. Áine and Salacia had also jumped back and are now trying to calm down and evacuate the panicking crowd. The beast, seeing this, launches itself in front of the emergency exit, causing the crowd to either fall back or freeze in their terror.
Áine and Salacia share a look before sprinting around the corner and taking their Brooches off their belts.
"By My Will, So Mote It Be!”
As soon as the transformation is complete, they jump out with wands blazing. The beast lets out a high-pitched howl as its forked tail burns and water shoots into its sinuses. It coughs, snarls, then turns towards the duo standing between itself and the crowd.
“Aren’t those the people from Hestia?”
“The cosplayers on JTube?”
“That was real?!”
Salacia grins and turns towards the stunned people. “Don’t worry, everyone! The Apostles are here to help!”
Áine glances over to Salacia as she poses like a performer on stage. ‘I see what Elen means when she told me about this.’ Well, at least the crowd seems to be distracted, so she won’t stop her.
With a sweep of her wand, Áine sets the beast’s incoming forelegs and sets it aflame again, blocking it from them and the crowd. The beast slams its paws on the ground, effectively putting out the flames but causing the floor to crack. Salacia brings her mind back to the fight to wave her wand in order to flood the ground. It freezes, with the added bonus that the beast’s legs ice over so they can do more damage to it.
“Shall we, Ignis?”
“We shall, Aqua.”
Elen peeks from behind a particularly large piece of concrete as the beast breaks free from Salacia’s ice. It prances about while snapping its fangs which are batted away by both fire and water. She would’ve thought they’re playing around if not for the terrified people or the slobber splashing and burning everything it touches. Elen has to stamp down her gag reflex as it shoots the saliva this way and that and sees the concrete instantly melting.
‘Great. Now it has long-range attacks.’
She feels a tug at her sleeve and turns to Māra looking at her practically in tears. “Wh-what is that thing?” Māra sniffles. “Isn’t that the same thing from the Hestia contest? Shouldn’t we be running?”
Elen looks at her. Looks at this scared child and is reminded of when she would run away to the densely forested part of the park after everyone in town would shout at her. She can send Māra off. Can take hide her somewhere so that she doesn’t get involved in this.
There’s blood dripping from under Māra’s fringe, so Elen hovers her hand over her forehead. She closes to her eyes to gather her magick and direct it to the scrape. A few seconds later, Elen opens her eyes and wipes away the blood to see the wound completely healed without even a scar.
*Inhale*
*Exhale*
The ghost of the handcuff still lingers as Elen removes the cards from her pocket to give to Māra. She’s met with an appropriately suspicious ”what the fuck” look, but still takes the cards regardless. Elen smiles sadly as one of the cards transforms into the Brooch and takes her own out, all the while reminding herself that Māra isn’t her. That they’re their own person and capable of making their own choices. Something she was never afforded before at that age.
“It’ll be okay,” she assures, not sure if it’s for herself or for Māra. “Just follow my lead.
“By My Will, So Mote It Be!”
Māra drops her arms once the light dies to see the girl having suddenly changed into one of those cosplayers she’d seen on the internet. Before she has time to react, the girl turns and takes her hands.
“I’m sorry for throwing you into the fire like this,” she says with the most rueful expression, “but we need your help with this.”
“Wait! You want me to, what? Transform like you? That’s insane!”
She chuckles and nods. “Yeah. I think we’re all pretty certifiable at this point.” The girl takes back her hands and summons a wand. “Help or not, I’ll let you choose.”
Before Māra is able to reply, the girl leaps to join the other two fighting the monster. There’s a flurry of different colored lights coming from each of the girls’ wands that deal considerable damage, with fur and blood flying across the platform. Sometimes they punch or kick at it to keep it away from the noncombatants who are still screaming though some have taken to cheering them on.
There’s terror in the normal peoples’ eyes. Blood splattering every which way. Māra is suddenly on the tile floor under her bed. She’s choking back her screams and tears when the Fuerza breaks into her house and grabs her mother because she’s an extranjera and needs to be eradicated from their ideal country.
She bites the inside of her cheek to bring her out of her thoughts and looks at the Brooch. Didn’t she make a vow to always fight back instead of hiding? The same way her mother protected her and her sister during that raid in their village?
‘If she’s certifiable, then so am I.’
“By My Will, So Mot It Be!”
As soon as she transforms, the card morphs into a brown wand with a green cube which she slams into the ground. The floor shakes as if in an earthquake, causing shouting from others and dust to fall from the ceiling. Elen, Salacia, and Áine have to jump away when fissures form under their feet and green horned snakes shoot up.
The lion is apparently so shocked by this turn of events that one of its paws gets stuck in a crack and falls on its side. Māra lands herself next to Elen, showing off one of the most impish grin she’d ever seen on a person.
Elen returns it. “Not bad.”
They share a nod before bounding in different directions and landing on opposite sides of the platform. Salacia takes the opportunity to fill the cracks and freeze the beast in place as Áine lights its mane on fire. The beast roars loud enough to shake the very foundations, but they each steel themselves.
“Now!”
The four fire their wands to the beast, magick mixing and mingling as the beast’s bellows echo through the air. Despite the ringing in their ears, they all tighten their grips and continue their attacks.
Elen sees the beast’s chest rip open and the sphere exposed. She pumps more of her magick, never giving a thought to the painful spasms in her back, until it and the object in it shatters. Like the others, the beast screams as it vaporizes in the air as if it never existed in the first place.
The silence that follows sounds loud now that the battle is over. There’s shocked laughter and murmuring from the group of stunned people that still haven’t run away to safety. Elen sees several with blood or holding their arms or legs that were obviously in pain.
She alights in front of the injured people, ignoring the way they jump and holds out her hand. Her magick flows from her fingertips to the wounds, stitching the muscles, blood vessels, skin, and even bones until everyone is healed. Elen feels her head lighten and she’s somewhat dizzy and nauseous, but she can’t lose face in front of these people. She’s got to keep up appearances, at least.
There’s one young boy who feels his arm that had been bent in the wrong direction and is now perfect with no discomfort whatsoever. He stares at them, mouth wide open. “Who are you?”
Elen stops. Her Apostle name is stuck in her throat and is refusing to come out. As if it’s wrong to introduce herself with it. So instead she smiles at everyone. “We’re known as the Apostles.”
Áine saddles up to Māra to whisper, “Let’s get going,” before all four fly out of hole in the ceiling.
It’s when they’re all in a deserted alleyway that they stop to take a breather. Elen’s hands are shaking. Her heart is racing in a way that she can’t be sure is healthy and her stomach is doing flips again. ‘I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this.’ She hopes she never does.
Guffawing from Salacia snaps Elen back to the group. She’s bouncing around again and her voice vibrates even the broken, boarded up window. “That was awesome! We were in perfect sync like a skating routine! And, wow Ignis! You did so much better than I did the first time!”
Áine rubs the back of her head, a nervous smile on her face. “You think so? I was really on edge the entire time.”
“You were! Your name is Māra, right? You were also amazing there. Total badass!”
Māra takes a step back as Salacia sticks her face close to hers. Elen honestly can’t blame her, and takes a few moments to check out what her Apostle form looks like.
Her outfit reminds Elen of a traditional Mexican dress, with a circle skirt and wide neckline with ruffles that shows off an inverted triangle with a line through the bottom. It’s bright green with a brown belt and square embroidery around the seams. She wears green ankle-length gloves and brown ankle boots, matching the brown garter with a green ribbon on her left leg, as well as the green choker with an awen pendant hanging from a cube-shaped bail. She can’t be too sure because of the poor lighting, but Elen thinks there’s a green tinge in her hair and her eyes have turned green. Lastly, her hair is pulled back with hair vines decorated with green cubes and, when she looks, sees the triple moon Brooch holding it together, paired with green cube earrings.
Māra becomes aware of something when her legs rub together, then sidesteps to look at herself in the window. She runs a hand over her chest, feeling how much bigger it is, and subtly feels the front of her skirt and notices that even her hips are wider. ‘There’s nothing there,’ she realizes. While pinching her skirt, Māra turns to get the full view of herself. ‘Is this what I’d look like if I were a biological girl?’
“Like what you see?”
She turns to see everyone looking at her with various degrees of interest. Her cheeks color, and she coughs into her hand. “It’s… nice. I’d never wear this on my own, though.”
“I completely understand.” They each take off their Brooches, and Māra follows suit. Now powered down, Elen holds out a hand. “My name is Magdelene Grace Magnum. You can call me ‘Elen’.”
“Salacia Jordan Sonnen!”
“Áine Freesia Daher.”
Māra takes each of their hands to shake as they introduce themselves. “Māra Ailbe Dzib. It’s been interesting.”
“And it’s only the start. We have acquaintances who can explain everything in detail, if you have the time for it.”
She considers it. There will probably be a news crew at the train station and Itzel and their father will definitely see it and freak out. ‘Well, it’s not like I’ve never lied about where I was before.’ She’s sure she’ll think of some excuse later. “Alright. I’ll come along.”
They all smile, a couple broad and one almost forlorn, and they start off.
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