High Cleric Russo Whitebranch battled with indecision as he clung to Lady Florence in the cursed hellscape, bombarded with the demons of her consciousness. The situation was dire. How in the name of Saint Dora had Lady Florence, with a mana-binding no less, survived such a place for seven years?

To rescue her, Russo was faced with an impossible choice—leave Lady Florence and retrieve his brother, which would greatly improve their chance of success, or he could attempt to do everything on his own. The latter would likely result in at least partial destruction of the annex…which would endanger the lives of others…

And that settled it. He could not endanger more lives, not when there was an alternative solution. 

“Please, wait where I can find you,” he told Lady Florence, not that she could hear or understand him, but he felt compelled to try. “I’ll be back with help soon.”

Exiting someone’s mind requires immense strength and concentration. However, Russo had a built-in tether with his twin brother, which made the process substantially easier for him. 

“That was fast,” Felix commented, his eyebrows drawn in confusion, once the whirlwind around Russo settled in Lady Florence’s chambers. 

“I didn’t even start.” Immediately, their eyes met; Felix silently understood that something was terribly wrong with the situation. “She has an old mana-binding on, so we need to set up an anchor for that here. Who knows how much mana will release once we free her…possibly enough to destroy the house if we did not place an anchor. And…”

He averted his gaze. The sight of Lady Florence, made of shadow and crying for help, had broken a part of him. Someone had done that to a child. A child had been forced to wander a hellscape, defenseless, for seven, long years. He’d—

“Russo!” Felix called to him, jolting him out of his stupor. Russo’s cheeks were wet. He was…crying? “Tell me what else is wrong!”

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen,” he began. He told Felix everything in detail. While Russo talked, Felix constructed the mana anchor, so by the time Russo was done they would be able to go. 

“Purify first,” Russo instructed, “then, on our way back, we release the mana-binding. It’ll be, eh, a bit chaotic.” He took his place on Lady Florence’s left side, while his brother stood across from him. Each of them had one hand on Lady Florence’s brow and the other holding one of her hands. 

“Don’t forget to tether to the anchor.” 

“Right,” Russo replied. He had forgotten, because Felix almost never came with him. “On three. One, two, three…”

♥⸸

“...wait…” the glowing angel said, his voice an echo barely audible in the din, “....back…help…”

Then, he released me.

“Don’t go!” I shout, but if he can hear me, he doesn’t listen, and his brilliant yellow-white presence winks out, leaving me alone in the inky, swirling chaos once more. 

Ah!—I sink to my haunches, curling my arms around my knees. If I make myself as small as possible, sometimes I am overlooked by the shadow creatures. If I wait in this exact spot, maybe the angel will return soon…

Hope and desperation. I am so full of both, that they threaten to erupt from my mouth, so I clench my teeth and grip my knees harder. Be small, be quiet. There was an angel here, a real angel! Does this mean my time here is nearing an end?

No, don’t hope for such a thing! How devastating would it be if he never returned? I hit my forehead on my knees, curling tighter. 

“Wait…back…help…” 

He meant for me to wait here, right? For how long? It doesn’t matter how long—I’ll wait for as long as possible. Until the shadows chase me away. 

I wait. Rocking on my feet.

I wait. Fingernails digging into my flesh. This is real. 

This is real…

And I wait. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Finally, the odd sound—the one I heard earlier—I hear it again! He came back!

The angel. No…two angels? They glow so brightly as they navigate smoky swirls of darkness and flame. 

Their forms waver as if they were standing in a fire. Were they hot like fire? I reach out, but my hands go through them. Just air. Why are they here if I can’t even talk to them, feel them, or interact with them in any way? Are they even here for me? Maybe they made a mistake. 

“...Florence…” one of the angels says. Again, it sounds like an echo from far away and I barely hear it. 

The dragon calls to me in the distance, drowning out anything else they might say to me. 

“The dragon!” I tell the angels, succumbing to the familiar compulsion to head towards the call. “Follow me!”

I turn and run toward the dragon, then stop and look behind. One of the angels follows, then the other. Good. I start to run again and do not look behind me until I find my only friend. Maybe the dragon can talk to the angels. Maybe they can help one another…or…dare I get my hopes up that they can help me? 

The iridescent cloud that makes up the dragon takes shape before me, a softly glowing being of light in the abyss. Delicate wings of mist unfurl and disappear before taking shape once more, folded along the dragon’s back. 

This ancient one greets this young one, the dragon says to me. I sink to my knees in relief and reverence. To hear such a gentle voice in this hell is heavenly bliss, a balm upon my ragged mind. This ancient one would apologize for her lengthy absence–ah.

The dragon extends a foot behind me. I turn and see the angels approach, just as the dragon places her leg between us. Protecting me.

“They’re here to help,” I say, “they are angels.”

Angels…the dragon draws out the word, tasting it. I think not, but perhaps the young one is right about their intentions. 

The clouds shift and the two bright beings reappear. Then, a wind blows and it’s as if a curtain is lifted, for I can see and hear them clearly. By the look of astonishment on their faces, they can see and hear me as well. 

“Lady Florence!” one of them shouts, bowing, “Ancient One. We’re here to break the curse on Lady Florence and wake her from her sleep.”

Curse? Sleep? Do they speak the truth, or are they not angels at all, and merely another figment of this hell? It’s difficult to distinguish individual features in his face, but he looks and sounds kind enough... 

“Can I trust him?” I whisper to the dragon, not caring if he can hear. 

That young one and his twin are mages of the light. Healers. In my time, they were sacred. That is the extent of my knowledge... 

Not angels, then, but mages. That still doesn’t explain their presence here. 

“Then…do you two know how long I’ve been in this…place?” 

They exchange glances, but their features are too blurry for me to read their expressions. 

“That would be better to discuss once we leave. The longer we stay, the more difficult it will be for us to extract you. Time is of the essence, Lady Florence.”

“I must leave now?” But, the dragon…I look over to my friend. As if she can sense my distress, she speaks to me. 

Do not grieve, young one. Slowly, her cloudy head descends until I feel a cool tingle hit my brow. A parting gift. Memories of this terrible place will fade, but you will remember me if you wish to. 

Tears prick my burning eyes as the mages take their places on either side of me. Why? I’ve wanted nothing more than to leave this hell and now that I am…I shake my head. 

“I’m ready,” I tell them.

The two tower above me and meet each other’s gaze one more time, before nodding. 

There is something they aren’t telling me…

But I don’t have time to ask before they chant a short spell and everything turns into burning, screaming white.