The sun poured down from the azure sky like rolling streams of fresh honey. Camilla waded through the tall billowing flowers, trying her best to keep up with her new companions. The long grass and beautifully colored flowers came up to her knees and tickled them as she trudged by. From the perfect sun, to the clear sky, to the seemingly endless field of magenta, violet, and golden flowers, the scene looked almost exactly like one of her grandpa’s paintings. She wondered to herself why it was that she hadn’t seen this place painted in one of her grandpa’s books. Could it be that this place was too new, or that he simply hadn’t traveled this far?

Not wanting to be distracted, Camilla put these thoughts away so that she could focus on the three young women around her. One of the girls, without much warning or reason, started sprinting in front of the group in a gleeful gallop. Her bare feet flipped themselves into the air as she cartwheeled through the extravagant garden in a flowing purple dress. Of the three of them, she definitely looked the most at home here. The vibrant flowers of the earth matched the one in the crown that adorned her head. Amidst the twirls, and hops, and cartwheels and cheering, the young girl’s hair spun around her like a flowing auburn cape. Camilla barely endured having her own hair come to the middle of her back; she couldn’t imagine having it that close to her ankles! Either way, the young pixie-esque girl seemed no worse for wear as she strided across the lawn with a song in her heart and sparkles in her eyes.

If the young girl bounding and rebounding in the front of them fit the scene like a glove, the girl walking behind Camilla fit more like a wrong sized shoe on an opposite foot. She definitely stood out more than the other girl, for while the graceful pseudo-acrobat blended perfectly into the garden with her summery colors, the girl behind Camilla contrasted everything around her with darkness. From the flared charcoal sundress, to the obsidian hue of her bobbed hair, to the coal color of her shoes, the young woman was practically steaming with gloom. Scrawny and almost sickly-looking, she sauntered across the lawn, not with a friendly smile, but with an unamused scowl. If the skipping girl ahead of them was a type of Flower Angel, then the one standing to the back was more of a Lovely Undertaker.

Camilla took mental notes on all three of the girls, but the one taking up most of her attention was the girl who stood next to her. The girl’s hair was pulled back into a tightly-knit, serious looking, ponytail braid. It fell stern and intimidating across the quiver of arrows she had attached to her back. The leather strap of the quiver came across the girl’s heroic looking shoulders, and over the moss green sweater she wore. From the long sleeved shirt to the loose, bark colored pants she wore, everything about the young archer screamed “business”. Camilla had never really thought about what she would want in a big sister. The concept of having any siblings at all had put her off for years, but looking at the noble, sweeping, angles in the young woman’s face, made Camilla start to rethink her previous notions.

Camilla reflected on the distinct beauty of each of the girls. From their heights to their faces, they all looked like the kinds of friends her soon-to-be-stepsister would have at high school. Examining the profound elegance and style exuded by each of the older girls, Camilla wondered if this would be some kind of standard to strive for when middle school was over. Her concerns faded slightly when the four them came upon a white, wooden structure.

The three ladies had led Camilla to a white gazebo on the far edge of the field. Camilla sat at a small metal and glass table adorned with a full pitcher of juice, and an assortment of cakes and cookies. If someone was trying to impress her they were doing a great job so far. Camilla sat and munched on the varied cookies on the plate as the three girls all took seats around her. She reached to fill a glass of juice, but before she knew it this was already being done for her. She looked to see a rather handsome young man pouring her a glass. He set it down and shot her a wide smile that, had it not been for his attractive face, might have come off as eerie.

“Oh, thanks!” said Camilla, not sure how to react to the unexpected nice gesture. “But you didn’t have to-”

“No, it’s fine,” said the young man, cutting her off. “I don’t want you to have to lift a finger around me.” He shot another ambiguous smile at her as he took a seat at the table. Camilla turned to see that the other two boys she had met on the road were also sitting at the table. All three of them seemed to be around the same age as the girls who had lead her here. They each shot her wide smiles, each just as handsome and questionable as next. Camilla didn’t really have much experience in receiving attention from boys, but she found herself wondering if it was supposed to feel this excessive and bizarre. The shadow themed girl seemed to notice Camilla’s unease, and began to shoo the three boys away as if they were bothersome pets. And like shooed off pets, the three boys scampered off to the side of the gazebo with their hypothetical tails between their legs.

“Now,” said the archer, “ I believe you told us you were trying to get somewhere.”

Camilla told them all about the Ice Box, and the Veracube and the sick prince of Solaris.

“I was heading there with someone but… ,” Camilla’s thoughts drifted back to Diane for a moment. The image of Diane’s back determinedly walking away from her and into the dusty distance burned into Camilla’s mind. “We, uh, split up.”

The archer put her hand to her chin and thought for a moment. She turned from the rest of them and looked out into field as if the answers lay out there.

“Well my dear, “ she started, “it seems like you are in fact about to head out on a real quest!” The archer puffed her chest out valiantly as she responded. As she talked to Camilla, the three boys on the side of the gazebo started to become quite fidgety. They turned their heads sharply from side to side, as if trying to get a read on something. One of boys sniffed the air with a sharp intake.

“Another girl just crossed the fog,” he disclosed to the girl with the flower headband.

“Down!,” she snapped at him, whispering through clenched teeth. She waved him away frantically, but discreetly as the archer continued.

“Trust me girl, when I tell you that there is a perilous journey ahead of you. There will be trials and tribulation. There will be tough decisions to make and many a foe to vanquish, but if you just believe in yourself-”

“-and stay true to your heart… !,” added the girl with the flower headband.

“-and never give up… ,” joined the raven colored girl.

“- you are destined to come out on top! And with us at your side you are sure to make an amazing heroine! What do you say?”

Camilla wasn’t sure what to say. She had never started out on this journey with the intention of being a “heroine”. The whole while she’d been here in this magical world all she’d done was stumble from one place to the next, making any seemingly heroic acts she’d done nothing more than accidents. She thought back on all the female heroes she’d read about in books and seen in movies; fierce, friendly, smart and unquestionably determined. Camilla had no arrows, magic swords, or scientific abilities. The idea of walking around barefoot made her soles hurt. But if she was to make it out of this place with what she wanted, perhaps the best way was to start acting like those other girls had.

“Well… sure!,” Camilla reached hesitantly to shake the archer’s hand. The archer grabbed Camilla’s trembly palm and shook it wildly.

“Great! Now, before we head out there is something we’ll need to take care of. You see, your-”

“HEY!”

A loud, exhausted, dread filled scream rang across the field. Camilla turned to see Diane tearing across the field, trampling flowers and grass in her wake. Arms at full pump and legs at full stride, the desperation with which Diane was trying to reach the gazebo was evident. As she got closer, Camilla could see that Diane had a purple strap across her torso. It lead to some small, rectangular object on her hip that Camilla couldn’t quite make out. Diane finally made it to the steps of the gazebo. Doubled over, she rested her palms on her knees and breathed deeply.

“Diane? What’re you doing here?,” Camilla inquired. Before she could ask any further questions, Diane trudged up the gazebo steps and grabbed Camilla’s forearm.

“Not important. We are getting out of here.”

Camilla stumbled as Diane pulled her down the steps.

“What!? But why-”

Diane examined Camilla as she pushed her along in a hurried walk.

“Are you okay? Did anyone touch you? Is everything still intact?”

“What are you talking about?” Camilla snatched away from her.

“Excuse me.”

Camilla and Diane turned around to see that the three girls had made their way off of the gazebo. They all stood next to each other, staring intently. Camilla noticed that something about the girls didn’t seem stylish or friendly anymore. They each had very dead, but still somehow very provoked looks in their eyes. Diane positioned herself in front of Camilla, putting herself between her and the archer. She kept one hand on Camilla’s shoulder in an effort to keep her close. The archer took a few steps forward.

“ I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here. If you just let us…”

Diane didn’t let the girl finish. It was at that point that Camilla finally saw what the contents of the small rectangular pouch on Diane’s side were, as she had no hesitations in pulling them out. Diane quickly whipped her free hand to the side and unsheathed a wide, sharp, silver dagger. It quivered back and forth in her trembling hand as she pointed it directly at the archer. Camilla gasped.

“Holy snot! Diane!?,” Camilla squealed.

“Ba-ba-back off you ps-psychos! I know what goes on here!”

“Wait! They’re just trying to help me,” Camilla argued in defense of her new companions, however she wasn’t sure if she believed what she’d just said. Timid, anxious, Diane didn’t seem the type to whip a dagger on someone in the worst of times. If she was prompted to resort to such a weapon now, Camilla wondered if this was one of those times.

“She’s right.” The archer and the other two girls stepped forward. Daine pressed Camilla even closer to her, still holding the dagger out and waving it at the girls. Camilla noticed the three boys crouching out from behind the gazebo. As they got closer, they began to look much less human than they originally had. They all creeped forward, nearly ending up on all fours until they found their way behind the wall the three girls had made of themselves.

“We just want to set Camilla on the path to being the best heroine she can be.”

The archer’s voice was filled with all the compassion, understanding, and tenderness of a thousand loving big sisters and caring mother figures.

“We just need to cut out her soul first.”

She had heard wrong. Camilla had obviously heard wrong.

“My… what?,” she inquired.

“Sweetheart, do you know how difficult it is go on a long journey with your soul intact?,” the archer started. “You get weighed down with things like morality and worrying about consequences. Once it’s out the only thing you’ll have to worry about is going on a fun adventure where everyone will love you and you’ll always come out in the end.”

Camilla didn’t need Diane to pull her closer this time. She gripped the blue fabric of her dress as the two girls continued to back away slowly.

“My, uh, s-soul sounds like something I might… uh… need?”

“You won’t miss it once it’s gone, trust me,” added the flower crown girl.

“You’ll get a long way better as a hero without one,” declared the night colored girl.

Diane started to crouch down. She motioned for the young girl to get on. Camilla wrapped her arms around her shoulders and hoisted herself onto Diane’s back.

Any human features the three boys had were disappearing quite fast. Locks of mist-like, shadowy, fur were starting to emerge all over their skin and soon onto their clothes. Hands started to turn into claws and faces started to turn into muzzles. The vapor-enveloped creatures dropped down on all fours next to the three girls, ready to pounce. The archer raised her hand and pressed her thumb and forefinger together.

“You are both making this much more difficult than it needs to be.”

Diane tore off in the other direction with Camilla on board. Her thin, dark legs were like springs as her feet pounded off of the ground and forward. The welcoming flowers of the garden quickly turned into a colorful, dizzying blur. The field was so enormous that neither of them could see the proper end of it. The two girls had nothing but their fear and their feet to lead them as they pressed forward.

The archer sighed and brought her finger down in a loud, authoritative snap. Like dark blue streaks, the three wolves rushed after the girls. Diane kept herself reasonably ahead for a while, but it didn’t take long for the three boy-turned-canines to catch up. The edge of the field became present as the trees of the forest rolled into view. Camilla could see the last twenty feet of flowers as Diane pressed herself. But any sense of hope Camilla had reverted right back into fear and then pain. She cried out in agony as her and Diane stopped in their tracks. They each looked back to see that one of the wolves had latched a grisly, knifelike, claw around Camilla’s exposed leg. Indigo scars and blisters started to form on her leg as the animal’s nails dug into her skin. The other two wolves each stretched out their fog-like limbs and seized Camilla’s leg as well, each leaving new night-colored scars. Like a deadly tug-of-war, Diane pulled on Camilla’s arm, trying to rip her from the beast’s clutches. She pulled the dagger once more and brought it down on the extended limbs of the wolves. Their paws detached from the rest of their bodies, leaving rays of glowing, blue light. The animals howled and whimpered in pain at the loss of their appendages. Camilla fell to the ground, dizzy with pain. Not losing a second, Diane threw her arms under Camilla’s and started dragging her back. The three evil canines tried to compose themselves as their limbs started to rematerialize. Calling what last bit of strength and resolve and breath she had left, Diane lifted Camilla up and tossed her back into the forest, across the blue fog. As the wolves began to stand up, the young woman jumped through the mist and back into the woods, landing hard on the ground. The last sound she heard from the treacherous meadow was the thumping of the wolves paws against the fog-made wall, like prisoners pounding against glass. And with that the blue fog of the dissipated, taking the meadow with it and leaving nothing but a quiet forest and two very exhausted girls.