Creative Storms

The bandit screamed in frustration, swiping again, going high in his anger. Merlin dropped, flicking his magic at the ground, making it soft and watching the man slip from unsteady footing.

"Oh, bad luck. Better chance next time."

He turned to go help Arthur, and got a punch to the gut for his efforts, caught off guard from a bandit that had snuck up on him.

He stumbled back, one hand wrapped around his stomach as the bandit grinned at him, fists raised with iron around his knuckles. Bollocks.

"Come on, fancy pants. Want to dance?"

Merlin looked back over to where Arthur was still fighting, grimacing at the pain he feels. "Not much of a dancer, I'm afraid. Perhaps some other time?"

The bandit chuckled, shaking his head, and darted in with a wide right hook.

Cursing under his breath, Merlin dodged quickly but missed the second punch, catching him under his chin. He stumbled back once more, spitting up a wad of gunk on the forest floor to laughter from the bandit. His eyes scanned the forest floor quickly, searching.

I could make the ground soft again. Or that branch looks loose, no too obvious something happened- Dodge!

He barely blocks another strike, body turning to strike out just as fast but not surprised when it doesn't connect. He doesn't have much further time for thought, everything narrowed down to block, hit, dodge as he tries to avoid being too heavily injured.

He gets knocked to the forest floor, breath leaving him in a gasp as the bandit swings in to attack him. He almost thinks he hears a call of his name, but he's already acting, body responding instinctively to the threat.

Hand raised automatically, his eyes flash with gold, the familiar pull of his magic pushing out of him and flinging the man back.

Merlin pushed himself up with a groan, stomach feeling definitely unsettled and likely injured terribly somehow, though his magic was already trying to fix it. Skidding nearby made him look as Arthur came to a stop beside him, looking worried.

"Mer-lin. What on earth were you thinking?! You were almost in serious trouble there. To think I take my eyes off you for one minute-"

Merlin rolled his eyes at the prince's ranting, cutting him off with a wet cough as he bent over, heaving out his lungs. A hand on his back, steadying him as he regained breath, and Arthur had gone rather quiet.

"We should get back to the palace, let Gaius look you over."

"I'm fine, Arthur," he tried to say as the other pulled him up. "Nothing I can't- that won't heal with time that is."

Arthur gave him an odd look, hoisting him onto the horse that had been tied nearby, getting on behind him.

"It sounds like you've got something broken, if not bleeding internally. I'd rather be safe than sorry, Merlin."

Merlin shrugs it off, letting Arthur start the horse towards Camelot, cantering at a steady pace to not aggravate his potential wounds.

About halfway there, Arthur speaks up, voice still sounding strange. "You've served me many years, now Merlin. And anytime I'm in a dangerous situation, you always manage to find yourself in it with me. Why is that?"

"Just doing my job, sire," Merlin replies blithely, looking out at the rolling hills they travel. "Not that you make it very easy to do."

"And what job is that? Because the things you do... it goes beyond service."

Merlin squints in confusion, turning over his shoulder to look at Arthur. "Have you come down with something? What in earth are you going on about, all of a sudden?"

Arthur shakes his head, face drawn into a familiar frown. "Just, thinking. Have you ever lied to me, Merlin?"

Oh. Oh.

Merlin was absolutely done for, there was no doubt. He may as well as have signed his own death warrant.

"Listen, sire, I promise if I ever have, it was only because I thought it would be easier, or that things might hurt you, and-"

Arthur sighs, finally looking at him as the afternoon light catches his hair, setting it ablaze in a golden halo. "It’s alright, Merlin. We'll need to talk later, but... I forgive you."

Her life was wacky, wild, and always on the run when not in her house, but she loved it. She did. She totally didn't stare at her wrist sometimes, wondering about 'what-if's' or 'maybe's'. Her sister's pleads to go with her to the Emperor to 'fix her curse' didn't sit with her for hours, making her wonder what about her is so wrong. It didn't. She'd take her freedom over that control any day.

And then a human found her way into the Boiling Isles. Luz reminds Eda far too much of her younger self, carefree but wanting to please others, sticking her head into every subject, eager to learn new spells and make magic. Her stubbornness and the way she constantly gets herself into trouble.

And, oh- Eda would do anything for this kid. Anything.

So, when Willow and Gus appear at her door, and tell her Lilith has crossed the unforgivable line of taking her kid student, she does not hesitate, Owlbert flying her straight to the palace.

The fight with Lilith is not easy, and learning her sister is the one to curse her strikes her heart almost as much as watching Luz try to escape and help. Lilith tosses Luz's bubble over the side, and Eda, stupid, selfish Eda, makes a selfless choice.

"Wait, Lily!"

Lilith froze, half-bent with the motion and holding her staff with magic still pouring from it to float Luz's bubble.

"What, Edalyn? What more could you possibly have to say?"

Eda frowns, letting Owlbert revert from his staff form, and letting her hands drop to her sides. "I surrender."

"You- what?" Lilith looks stunned, no doubt thinking Eda is planning something. "There's no way you would surrender after fighting this hard. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Eda," comes the call from just under the bridge, and she does not look. "What are you doing?"

"I'm surrendering, Lily. I'll go see the Emperor with you, just let the kid go."

Lilith still didn't look like she believed her, and Eda knew, just knew what she needed to do, to convince her. She raised her left arm, holding it out, forearm up in front of her.

Lilith's eyes widened, magic stuttering, and Eda jerked forward to do something, anything before Lilith took control back, regaining her cool.

"Very well, sister, I will take you to see the Emperor."

"And let the kid go," Eda reiterated through clenched teeth, gritting her teeth.

"Fine," Lilith huffed, raising the bubble. "I'll let the little brat go."

Luz came up over the side of the bridge, clawing at the bubble until she caught Eda's gaze.

"Eda, what's going on? Why are you giving up? You can beat her-"

Eda pressed her mouth into a thin line, cutting her off. "Look, Luz. I was wrong oay. Sometimes you can't do everything you want. I don't know when, or if, I'll be back, so you need to go home, take care of King and Hooty."

The bubble settled on the bridge and Luz was looking up at her with wide eyes. "Eda, you don't sound like yourself! Please, we can fix this, we just have to-"

Lilith clears her throat, standing closer to the palace doors, looking at Eda pointedly. "Come along, sister. The Emperor is a very busy man."

Eda pushed around the bubble, lip quivering as she keeps her emotions in check. "Goodbye, Luz. And thank you, for being in my life."

Luz's cries echoed behind her all the way until the doors closed, having left Owlbert behind to take Luz home.

She followed Lilith down the corridor, where they stopped in a room that was presumably before the throne room.

"You're not going to die, you know," Lilith says as she pulls out the magic sealing glove. "The Emperor's Coven is one of the few that is able to use all schools of magic."

"Yeah," Eda questions, still offering up her wrist. "And how's that working out for you?"

Lilith frowns at the snipe, bringing the glove over. "This is just a precaution… the Emperor should be able to heal your curse."

"Just get it over with, Lily." Eda says, gesturing her wrist pointedly.

She, Kirk, Zeke and Nicole had returned from their separate missions out into the wilderness or edges that bordered the kingdom, and they had settled in to wait for the return of Lucas and Jason when the small viewing crystal with which they checked the news flared on.

In view was the prince of Stardale, Mikalai, and Genevieve clearly stiffened at the sight of the prince as he called for attention.

"People of Trocstead, I apologize for my interruption of your daily news, but there is a matter of great importance that must be shared. Sometime ago, I had the pleasure of running into a young maiden of the land, and she was my guest for almost a full year before she was ripped away cruelly."

"That is not what happened," Genevieve hissed, drawing all eyes to her. "You wouldn't let me leave, you little-"

"While she was my guest, I learned a great deal about her, as you can imagine. And so, I have a request for you good people, and my lady should this reach her. I have something of yours, something you told me your very life was tied to."

Genevieve stood suddenly, eyes wide with horror. She paced over to her bag, digging through it until she found a communication crystal, sending out a call as the prince continued.

"I'll even be so kind as to return your lost item, for a small fee." The video rang out a clear tune, and he paused, as Genevieve grew pale. "Ah, it seems she is watching. One moment, good folk of the land and you will hear the voice of my darling."

He picked up a communication crystal, clearly chiming, and answered it. "Hello, darling." The voice echoed into the small room of the house the took refuge in.

"Where is he," they heard Genevieve twice, bringing more questions than answers. "What have you done to him?"

"Why my dear," the prince chuckled, looking right into the view as though they could see each other. "I've done nothing, yet. But if you must know, he's right here."

He moved, and the view shifted, showing every person watching the sight of Lucas, tied and gagged in a metal chair, clearly struggling to get free with little success.

"Let him go," Genevieve says immediately, clutching her crystal. "He has nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but I disagree." The prince's voice was sharper, and he was walking around behind the chair now, latching onto Lucas' shoulders. "He has everything to do with this. He is why you turned me down every single time!"

"What do you want, Mikalai? Why go through the trouble of taking him prisoner when you know how I feel?"

"You know exactly what I want, sweetie," his nails dug in, but Lucas only looked enraged. "Knowing how you feel is exactly why I took this measure. Say yes, and I'll let him go. Say no again, and… well, I'd never hurt you darling, but I'm afraid I'm the jealous type."

All of her friends eyes were on her, and tears were pricking her eyes as she focused on Lucas' face. "Can I talk to him?"

A sharp bark of a laugh is her answer, the prince lifting his hand to cover his mouth in mock etiquette. "Please! And let him sway your answer? No, my dear, you must choose on your own."

Indecision gripped her heart in icy claws, torn between her heart and her logic.

"I- I can't, Mikalai, you have to understand-"

"Wrong!" The prince looked aggravated, sneering. "Come to me when you have a better answer, until then, enjoy the show."

With that, he shut off the communication crystal, then smashed it on the ground, not allowing for her to call back. He turned to Lucas, pushing back his wild hair with a deep breath as the broadcast continued.

"You can be sure to thank your precious 'guardian' for what happens next."

His fist lashes out, striking Lucas across the face solidly. The next hit land to the gut, causing the teen to curl in on himself before an uppercut nearly topples the chair over. The prince then steps back, and several of the palace guards move in. It is a sight not meant to be watched, and yet the broadcast continues as the helpless young man is figuratively torn apart between punches and kicks, beaten into unconsciousness for all to see.

Only after nearly ten minutes of the senseless violence have passed, does the prince call for an end. The view clears, and focuses back on the royal who looks far more put together now as he addresses the populace once more.

"Well, I do so hate to expose you all to such violence, but remember, this is all unnecessary. Once my lady provides a more suitable reply, the violence well cease. My dear, I do so look forward to hearing from you. Until then, good people, I will return to give a reminder of what happens to those who go against the crown."

"Oh, Loid, you're back early. Slow day at the hospital?"

"I only had a few appointments," he said casually, carefully maneuvering his aching torso as he opened the fridge. "I decided to come home once they were done, see about starting dinner early."

"Is there anything I can help you with," she offers, and he almost caves before shaking his head.

"I've got it covered here, can you check Bond's dishes? I think they're full, but better safe than sorry."

"Of course," she agrees immediately, setting her bag and coat on the rack. " Come on Bond, let's make sure you aren't going hungry."

He hears her bustle into the living room, hiding the wince as his ribs remind him pointedly that they exist. Any would be home within the next half-hour, he needed to get this under control. He wouldn't be a very good spy if he couldn't handle a couple bruised ribs, after all.

Yor's steps patter into the kitchen, breaking him out of his reverie as she passes behind him.

"He must've gotten thirsty, water was half-empty. I'm getting so more real quick."

"It was a warm day today," Loid muses, holding himself a little more still despite every warning blaring as she stands behind his unprotected back. "I have no doubt he needed it."

She gives a hum of acknowledgment, the faucet turns on, then off, and then she returns to the living room, allowing him to relax. Unfortunately, the action shifts his torso, and, okay, maybe his ribs aren't just bruised. That's unfortunate.

He hisses through clenched teeth, stirring the pot of stew a little more vigorously until the fresh wave of pain passes.

Bond runs to the front door from the living room, about the only warning he has before it opens to the little voice, bright with cheer. "Mama, Papa! I'm home!"

"Welcome home, Anya," Yor steps into view, folding her hands in front of her. "And how was school today?"

"Classes were boring," Anya pouts, taking off her school bag and cap. "Se'on son was mean to me again."

"I'm sorry to hear that Anya," Loid says, turning to her and stepping closer. "Did you at least try and be civil with him?"

Smile, but not too wide, don't bend, that'll hurt and they can't see that, but lean in to let her know you hear her out. A steady stream of reminders in his head, watching Anya's face for tells.

She frowns, and he worries what could be wrong. Just before he can ask, she blurts out "Papa's hurting."

What?! How?! He had been so careful!

Keeping the panic off his face, and ignoring the pain, he kneels, pasting on a concerned smile. "What are you talking about Anya? I'm not hurting."

Ribs, screaming, stand up, stop bending like that. No, you need to wait. trying to ease the pain now will only confirm it.

Anya is still frowning, and now Yor is at his shoulder, also looking concerned. Anya reaches up, tapping his chest on the left side.

"Papa's hurting, here. I can tell. Did Papa have a bad day at work?"

Ah, good, an out, he could take that.

He gives Anya a small smile, taking her hand in his. "I had a few troublesome clients today. I'm sorry if I worried you, but I'll be okay."

She looks between him and Yor, seeming to debate something before nodding, looking to the stove. "How much longer til dinner?"

He lets out a good natured chuckle, rising as the definitely fractured ribs protested, and turned back to the stove. "Should be another ten minutes or so. Why don't you go get out your homework while you wait?"

"Will you sit with me after? To work on it, I mean!" She said it quickly, eyes darting like she was nervous.

And, he wasn't sure why she asked, but sitting down would help. "Of course, Anya. Run along, dinner will be done soon."

"Come along, miss Anya, Bond wants to say hello too," Yor escorts Anya to the living room, and he is left to his cooking, thankful for a crisis averted.

Later, when the the night has long fallen and the girls have gone to bed, he will sneak to the bathroom. He will lift his shirt, find the dark bruises mottling his left chest, right near where Anya had pointed, and do his best to dress the wound. He will wonder at the perceptiveness of children, which he will never understand, especially this one, but he cares for her all the same.

Each day that passed with no words from Veronica, Kirra's fiancée and Lucius' mentor, made Enna more antsy, twitchy from the desire to just go and get him herself. But she knew better than that. She needed to be calm, wait for the group to be ready.

How she hated being the rational one sometimes, this is why he should have just waited, she would have told him this was a bad idea-

But there was no time to deal on what could have been. There was only time for action in the present, and the bard had finally, finally recieved a Sending that the others were ready to meet and discuss the plan.

There was no hesitation as she went to the temple where Veronica waited, meeting Elowen and Kirra there with solemn nods. They went to a private room, warded against prying eyes, and Veronica set out a map.

"Serpents' Den, from what we've been able to gather, has been working as a branch under the authority of Thorpes. Instead of going after the tail, we have found the most likely hideout they're holding him in to be here," she points, Enna taking in every detail. "It is in a residential area, so it is likely disguised as an ordinary building, but our sources say this area is no doubt where the hideout is."

Kirra has a hand on her chin, looking thoughtful. "Any idea of guards or amount of forces we'll be facing?"

"If they are keeping him there, they'll likely be heavily fortified. However, I have no doubt you three can handle it."

That caught Enna's attention. "Us three?"

"I am needed here, at the temple, and if I were to go it would be all but a declaration of war, as well as an alarm to our enemy. They will not suspect you three right away."

That was as comforting as anything else. "And when we get there? You want us to do anything besides get Lucius out?"

"There are no doubt documents on the dirty business they've been doing. Retrieve them if you must, but Lucius is the priority."

Enna nods, as do he friends, Kirra's face hard as stone, and Elowen wide-eyed with worry and fear.

"Now, before we call this meeting, there is something you should see to prepare yourselves for what you will see. I warn you, it is not pretty."

Veronica turned to a cabinet, retrieving a box that she handled with great care as she set it on the table before them. Enna held her breath, nails digging into her hand as the lid was removed.

Red. She saw red, even if there was no fresh blood, she was absolutely livid upon laying eyes on the masculine hand, skin a lighter shade of blue than it should be with carefully painted nails. Burned into the skin was Thorpes' insignia, a clear sign to any who looked on it.

They had laid claim to her brother and taken him apart. She would kill whoever dared to lay a finger on him. They would regret the day they ever crossed her family, she swore it.

He continued with this habit, patching up bruises, small cuts, and any sprains, even going so far as to splint his own hand when a few fingers on his left got smushed under rubble during training. Anytime his classmates or teachers asked if he was getting it taken care of, he would agree without hesitation, even if he never went into details on how the injury was being treated.

It was during a training on a Friday, where Aizawa had joined to check their progress, that things came to a very ugly head.

The lesson had been a search and rescue, with 'points' hidden in the fake town for each group of four or five to spread out and find. The goal was to find every point, retrieve it, and return it to the 'safe zone' before time ran out, and their would be difficulties along the way to make it more realistic.

Izuku's group had consisted of Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida, so he had a relatively good feeling about their likelihood of success.

When the buzzer sounded, Iida had raced off ahead, calling off locations over their headset that the other three then split off to start handling. Izuku went East, Todoroki went North, and Uraraka went West.

Izuku, using his Shoot style to move just a bit faster as though in actual emergency, came across a cluster of half-destroyed building, keen eyes searching as he paged Iida.

"Alright, I'm in the Eastern sector. Where did you spot the wounded Ingenium? Was there a marker on the building?"

"Affirmative, Deku. You're looking for the one with orange tiles up to the first floor, a pink and white awning to the left."

Izuku immediately spotted the landmarks given, his feet already moving. "Copy, target spotted. I'm heading in."

"I've found the injured in the Northern Section, they're buried, so it will take time to pull them out." Comes Todoroki's voice, crackling with the distance.

"West is clear," Uraraka affirms, sounding out of breath. "They had been stranded on the roof, but I'm returning them to safety now."

"Understood," he replied, stepping into the building. "I'll keep you all updated when I find mine."

With that, he turned off his mic for the time being, keeping his eyes peeled as he explored the first floor. Everything looked clear, but he could see signs of the simulated battle as he wandered further in. There was no subfloor he discovered, and he knew part of the mission was to find the 'point' himself, but he was almost inclined to call Iida again for which floor he might have found it on.

Izuku shook the tempting thought from his mind, climbing the stairs to the second floor. As he emerged, the space was a lot more cluttered, with more branching off rooms, and he resigned himself to looking in each one.

He could hear some static over the comms, and shifting from the half-destroyed building, but he pushed it off for now, set on finishing this job and doing it well.

There were three rooms left, then he could move on, narrowing down the search. Thankfully, the next room seemed to be what he needed, as just on the other side of the room, near where parts of the ceiling had collapsed, he could see the 'point' or wounded citizen he was meant to retrieve. It was a target, essentially, half buried in the rubble and almost impossible to make out. Quickly, he moved across the room, using his strength to start moving the rubble as he turned on his mic.

"I've found the injured in the Eastern section, retrieving them now."

Static answered him and he paused, frowning. "Hello? Ingeniom, Uravity, respond. Shoto, respond."

More crackling, and pieces of a voice. "-thing wrong… -eku-…hear-"

His frown grew deeper and he looked to the window, tapping his comm to try and clear it.

"Guys? Is everything okay?"

The creaking was the only warning he got before the building shifted, and the roof caved in. He dove for the target on instinct, remembering the goal to keep it safe.

Everything hurt, of that, he was certain. He felt he could barely move his torso, a heavy weight pressing him down to the floor. He couldn't feel his legs, as though they had been disconnected from him entirely.

There were voices, he could vaguely hear them from… somewhere, likely nearby, though the mountain of rubble made it hard to guess.

Shifting, the better kind this time, as he heard pieces lifting and being removed. The voices were getting clearer, and it seemed the whole class had come to help, everyone calling out for him, trying to find him in the mess. He was tired, and his lungs were too tight to respond, no matter how much he wanted to.

Finally, blessedly, the removed the piece near his head, and he winced as the light hit his face.

"There you are, Problem Child. We need to start putting a tracker on you or something."

"Hey… Aizawa-sensei… sorry…"

"Man, Midori-bro, you don't sound too good!"

"That is because he was crushed under rubble, Kirishima! And there is yet one more piece to retrieve!"

"Right over here," came Todoroki's calm voice, "If we move this off, we should be able to get him out."

"Alright! Let's go!"

Izuku winced at the loud noise, but his attention was taken as the rubble pinning his lower half was moved, and his body screamed. Or was that him? They quickly stopped moving it, and his sight was filled with Aizawa's worried face.

"Sounds like something's broken, likely your hip. As soon as we get this off, we''l have to get you to Recovery Girl-"

"No," he said, shaking his head immediately. "No, she won't- I can take care of it-"

Aizawa's face was hard to read, as usual, but his next words sounded odd. "Problem Child, when's the last time you saw Recovery Girl? For anything?"

The haze of his injury loosened his tired tongue as he shrugged. "About a month ago, I think. Why?"

Aizawa said nothing, standing and beckoning Uraraka over. "I'm going to need you to float that piece of rubble off him. We'll pull him out after."

His classmate did as told, and then hands where gently pulling him out, laying him on a stretcher provided by Yaoyorozu. He blinked a little, confuzed in his dizzy haze and looking to his mentor and his teacher, seeing them standing together, trading words. Todoroki appeared, bedning down at his side.

"They're just discussing what to do. You should rest, Midoriya, you gave us quite the scare."

It was just after the third word that she had started to change that she felt the tingling in her fingertips. She pushed through, five, ten, paragraphs rewritten by her hand, even as numbness and devil red crept up her right arm.

Her eyes were focused on the words, on her friend, making sure the story she wrote fit him and changed nothing but that which could kill the parts she loved. Even as her arm burned like the flames he wielded, even as her right eye grew blurry.

Cold. There was cold, now, a distinctly familiar cold from behind, bracing her left and reaching to meet her right. She couldn't thank Gray, not yet when her focus was so important, but she knew the meaning behind the gesture. She would be sure to do something nice when this was all over.

Over. Was it over? She couldn't tell, she was still scouring the book for any detail she had missed, any part that was END, and not Natsu. Gray's voice was in her ear, telling her she had done enough, but had she? She had to be sure.

The book fell to the ground, how soon later she couldn't say. She was exhausted, the book curse draining her energy as Gray fought it with his ice. She fell into his arms gratefully, allowing the darkness of a hard fought battle to draw down her eyes.

---

Almost everything had recovered, thankfully. Gray arriving when he did and fighting the curse meant she hadn't lost her hand or arm, which really would have been unfortunate. There was something that hadn't been entirely saved, though.

Porlyusica laid it out very simply for her: The curse had started to intrude into her very veins, so when it reached her eye, not even Gray's demon-slayer ice could fight everything. She had lost a good portion of vision in her right eye.

To Lucy, it was a very small price to pay for the assurance that Natsu would never again have to deal with someone trying to turn him into a demon. However, she knew that her nakama would disagree, and Natsu himself would be very upset.

So, she asked Porlyusica to keep the condition quiet and pass her anything that might help ease her transition to dealing with the new limitation.

The old woman had agreed in her own way and shuffled Lucy out on her way to where her nakama were waiting.

Lucy was swarmed almost immediately, Wendy and Natsu converging with Erza and Gray close behind. They started asking almost immediately how she was doing, if she was okay, and what all Porlyusica had said.

She waved her hands, trying to calm them down unsuccessfully. "Guys, guys, really, please." Upon realizing they were not going to let her speak like this, she cleared her throat, pulling her 'scary face'. "Alright! Quiet down!"

They do, now paying full attention as she took a deep breath. "I'm alright, Porlyusica just needed to check to make sure the curse was fully out of my system."

"Is it," comes Gray's quiet voice close to her right, startling her. "I did what I could, but-"

"But you still shouldn't have taken that risk, Luce!" Natsu cuts in, looking pained. "I know it seemed bad, but I fought it! You could'a been really hurt, or worse from messin with that thing!"

"What he's trying to say," Erza steps forward, placing a gentle hand on Natsu's shoulder. "Is that we're grateful you're okay, but what you did was very risky."

"You are okay, aren't you Lucy? She got it all out?"

Lucy turned her gaze to Wendy at the last question before turning to look at each of her closest friends, her home, with what sight she had, and saw the worry, fear and love laid bare in each gaze. Firmer now in her decision, she allowed a bright smile to grace her face.

"Of course I'm alright everyone! Honestly, I can't believe you're so worried!"

Poseidon, god of the sea.

She made sure to send him a word of thanks following the revelation. She didn't hear anything back, but that was alright, gods couldn't spend all their time on mortals. She never told Percy about the incident.

——

She is 13 when a god approaches her for the first time. She had been running through New York, Percy off on a mission and monsters on her tail from Poseidon's residual essence, when she ran into a man. She fell to a ground, looking up to find an imposing man clad in leather with dark, curly hair, piercings, and a fire in his gaze. Somehow, she knew instinctively who this was.

"Ares?"

"That's Lord Ares to you, worm, if you'd like to live beyond the monsters chasing you."

She gulped, pushing herself to standing. "Why are you here? My brother says you hate him."

"Him, definitely," the god says in almost a bored manner. "But I like causing chaos, and Poseidon seems to have left you up a creak as it were."

She blinked, mind struggling to catch up.

"Are you- are you offering to help?"

The god grinned, and Helena immediately regretted every decision ever.

"I'm offering somethin' a little different. I'd like a new champion. Those monsters are getting close, what do you say?"

She could hear the growling, the claws scraping the ground growing ever closer. She turned over her shoulder frantically, panic kicking in.

"Come on, little warrior, what you got to lose?"

'My soul, maybe,' she bites back, but her options were narrowing and, well… what's one more secret?

"Fine, okay! Lord Ares, I agree!"

"That's more like it!" A sound like thunder echoed the gods words, a cackle echoing behind her.

She didn't dare look as the hellhounds rounded the corner, and she raised her hands to take them on as best she could. Only… she was holding a weapon she definitely didn't have before. It was circular, the blade going all the way around with a grip in the middle which she held. She gawked at it, looking back for Ares, but he was gone.

"How do I use this?!"

'Trust your gut, little warrior,' came the dry reply, 'I don't take champions lightly.'

Oh, she really messed up, didn't she? But there was no time for that. The hellhound pounced and she moved by instinct alone, swiping the weapon longways.

The monster fell in a spurt of dust.

Okay, maybe she could do this.

Turned out, having two prominent gods both making you a 'champion' made things harder, not easier. She had gone to camp with Percy within the next year, not a bit surprised at the ease with which she crossed the border. She knew Percy was confused, and it was getting harder to hide the secrets from him and her mother, but she brushed it all off for now.

She had a very long talk with Chiron, asking what being a champion meant, what was expected of her, and what she would be facing. He said it was likely all the gods would be watching her now, and that it was likely more might yet approach her. And that… she really hoped that was a 'worst-case scenario' rather than a likely one.

She and Lloyd were walking back to the monastery, taking in the beautiful spring day, when they had walked past a school in which some kids where out on the playground, presumably waiting to be picked up by parents and go home. When they walk closer, however, she can hear they're not exactly playing.

"-Come on, Brian, show us! Show us just how special that trick is!"

"Yeah, By-ro, show us! We just want to see!"

"I didn't say it like that! C- come on, guys, you know I don't l-like sticking out…"

"Aww, Byro stuttering again, can you believe it!"

Ava didn't know what her face looked like, but it must've been bad as Lloyd as ha hand on her arm, stopping her from going over there. Vaguely, she knew he was speaking, could hear the bass of his voice, but couldn't make out the words. She couldn't hear much beyond a faint ringing anymore, her eyes locked on the three kids cornering the small boy as she's thrown back years, lifetimes, until she can only see herself in that same spot.

Time slipped away from her, she felt her body moved, hands on her arms burning through the skin as she tried to pull away.

She was surrounded, girls her age pinning her in, jeering, taunting, demeaning her. They singled her out no matter what she did, and they were getting physical this time, that was the only explanation for why so many hands where on her, holding her down, shaking her- no, no she couldn't do this, not again! Why wasn't anyone helping her? Why was she all alone again?! Hadn't she gotten out, hadn't she-

There was a hard surface under her back, incense intruding her senses, which was startling on it's own, and ice in her hand. None of these fit with what she was seeing, and suddenly she realized there weren't hands on her anymore. She fell still, blinking heavily. The playground shifted, and she could see wood panels overhead.

A voice was humming, lower than the ringing in her ears.

She blinked again as the ice started to melt in her hand, the figures fading as her blurry vision clears a little more.

She took a deep breath, the incense beckoning her to relax her muscles, and she does, releasing tension she was unaware of.

A bell, not sharp like a school bell, but soft and clear. She blinks, the last of the flashback fading and leaving her absolutely exhausted.

She turns her head with a great deal of effort, finding Sensei Wu sitting cross-legged not close but not extremely so, giving her a fair deal of space. Behind him, she could see the soft waft of the incense drifting to the ceiling, could hear Sensei humming a soft tune.

She shifts her hand, splaying it out and finding the wood floor of the Bounty under her.

She lets out a sigh, drawing Sensei's attention.

"Ah, are you back with us then?"

She nods slightly, still bone-tired. "Yeah, I'm back… Sensei."

"Ah, good, I see you have not reverted, either. Retrieving the mind is always more difficult when it thinks it belongs somewhere else."

She lets out a noise of assent, sorting through what had happened.

"Lloyd brought me back?"

"He was rather distressed when you stopped responding, and then when you reacted to his touch with fear."

That struck a painful chord in her, and she clenches her hands, digging her nails in.

"Oh, god. I never- I can't believe that happened. Is- Is he okay?"

Wu moves, sliding closer, his eyes showing the wisdom of his years as they pierce through her.

"You have just relieved a traumatic memory bad enough that you could not recognize the present- and you are worried for my nephew?"

She moves her gaze away, fighting the flush that rises to her cheeks. "I- well, he-"

Wu laughs a little, shaking his head and offering her a hand. "Lloyd will be fine, though you may want to figure out how you're going to explain what happened."

She takes his hand and sits, gently rubbing her aching head. "Right, that's… not going to be fun. Thank you, Wu, for bringing me back."

"Anytime, my dear. We will always be here to bring you home."

She looked down the way, around the corner, to see her coworker Angela looking scared, backing up from the counter. She frowned, putting down the drink she was making and made her way over, intent on helping if there was a customer being rude.

There was not customer, but instead a group of men, faces screwed up in snarls or sneers, obviously exercising their Second Amendment rights by the holsters she could see on their hips. Gabrielle schooled her face quickly, pasting on a concerned look as she steps to the counter.

"Gentleman, is everything alright? I couldn't help but hear the fuss."

"No, it is not alright," the man in front spat, literally, and Gabrielle very carefully did not flinch. "She keeps trying to talk to us about food and is too stupid to understand that that's not what we want!"

Gabrielle does not hide the frown at the demeaning words, straightening her spine and looking at the three of them.

"Please do mind how you refer to my coworker, sir. She was only trying to help. If you don't want food, than what can I help you find?"

The man in front, more than likely the ringleader, growls at her and his hand goes to his hip.

"Listen here, you little bitch, you don't talk to me like that-"

"Sir please remain calm," her right hand raises placatingly while her left searches under the register. "There is no need to cause a fuss-"

He turns red, hand clenching and then-

"Just who the hell do you think you are, huh? Let me see your hands, little missy, I got the feelin' you're trying to be sneaky."

She had just barely found the button when the gun was pulled right in her face, sending her heart into her throat. Shifting to stand a little bit more in front of her coworker, Gabrielle raised her left hand to match her right, both in clear view.

"Sir, please. There's been some kind of misunderstanding-"

"Shut up! Shut the hell up!" As he started waving his gun, stalking back a few paces and wheeling back around, his 'friends' appeared to be giving him a wide berth. "I am so damn tired of people trying to tell me what to do, what not to do! So, I make the rules for once!"

As he seemed to be lost in his rant, Gabrielle backed up a little just to have more space from the gun.

"-See, what I want is just a little bit of piece and fucking quiet once in awhile! To have to not explain myself to the nth degree every time some little stupid nobody can't seem to understand what I want!"

The front door opens, a rather odd fellow honestly. Dress shoes, black pants and white button-up with a brown tweed jacket and a red bowtie. The gun-wielder heard him too, turning to face the guy.

"Stop right there! This store is currently under a hold on business!"

Mr. Bowtie frowned, nose scrunching, and- why was she focusing on that again?

"Guns. Never liked them. Think we've had just about enough of that, thank you."

Then he pulls out a weird stick that glows on the end, and the guy tries to fire the gun but it jams. He looks appropriately as confused as Gabrielle feels, and Bowtie clears his throat.

"Well then, I think it's be best if you all head off and stop bugging these poor ladies, hmm?"

The three men look at each other before scurrying off, tripping over themselves out the door. Gabrielle sighs in relief, turning to her friend and checking her over.

"Now, that certainly wasn't what I was expecting when I stopped in for a spot of tea and a pastry, but I'm glad I was here. Are you ladies okay?"

Gabrielle turns to assure him and sees his eyes go wide as he takes a step back.

"We'll be alright. And you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He shakes his head, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket.

"Just… thought I saw a familiar face. Name's Doctor. Doctor- uh, Smith."

She smiles softly, stepping back. "Well, Doctor Smith, I have to get back to my job, but thank you for your help."

"No problem," is her answer.

"Well, actually," the little gremlin speaks up, appearing from nowhere and making Lance's heart jump from his chest. "What I'm picking up is a number of Galran outposts. Whether or not they're currently active is harder to decipher due to the astroid belt in the area."

"Jesus, Pidge, personal space!" Pidge does not look apologetic in the slightest and Lance turns back to Shiro. "So, are we going to investigate the call or not?"

"We shouldn't," comes the input from everyone's favorite ball of sunshine. "There are way too many risks of this being a trap, especially considering we're not exactly subtle out here."

"I understand your concern, Kieth," Shiro looks stressed, looking between the gathered group and the view screen displaying the planets ahead. "But if it's a serious call for help, then as Defenders of the Universe, we need to check it out and respond quickly."

"We could always send a search party out," Hunk offers, looking over Pidge's shoulder at her laptop. "Just a few of us instead of all of Voltron, to check out the validity of the call?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Paladins." Allura sweeps into the room, Coran not far behind her. "If there is danger of a Galra trap, the few can report back and we can turn around. But if there is need for us, Voltron will respond. The question is who…"

"I'll go," Lance finds himself offering immediately.

He almost starts to question his sanity but then Allura smiles and- nope, no regrets.

"Thank you, Lance. I appreciate your volunteer. Who'd like to go with him?"

The question is turned to the group, and he looks to each one with hope. Working with Shiro would be so cool, and I could use the bonding time with Hunk. Or Pidge and I-

"I'll go," Keith says, looking very much like he'd rather do anything but. "Someone needs to keep this one out of trouble."

Rude!

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much, guyliner! If anything, it's you we need to worry about, mister lone wolf!"

Keith stalked closer, irritation evident. "Well, maybe I wouldn't be such a lone wolf if I had people I could rely on-"

"Oh yeah? Well, if you tried opening up to people-"

Hands on their shoulders, pulling them apart before they could get into yet another brawl.

"Keith, Lance, enough! This bickering is getting old!" Shiro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you're both committed to going to this mission, there is to be no arguing whatsoever, am I understood?"

"Loud and clear, Shiro." Lance crossed his arms, turning aside.

"Yeah, I got it," came Keith's grumbled reply.

"You'd best hurry, Paladins. if there are Galra, we should not leave the Castleship in such a precarious position."

Lance softened, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"You got it, Princess. We'll head right out."

He turned and started walking out, heading straight for the hangers. All the while, he couldn't seem to get the words Keith had said out of his head. Keith trusted him, right?

Right?

He shook his head, needing to turn his focus to the mission at hand.

Yeah, not a good day.

They had no more than landed on the planet the distress signal had come from, than they were beseiged by at least a few several squadron of Galra. Lance was veering Blue left and right to evade fire while attacking in kind, and he could just see Keith doing the same.

His comms had been shut down by some kind of EMP device, meaning he couldn't call for backup and they were almost definitely outnumbered.

Seriously, how bad could his luck be?

Worse, apparently, because he caught sight of a battleship appearing from the far left as he spun his lion from another blast. It looked to be charging, and pointed- right at Red and Keith.

Panic flooded him, and without a way to warn Keith, he followed his gut.

Blue! Go, now!

His lion shot forward, barreling into Red, and he could just barely see Keith through his screen, looking affronted as Lance tried to turn Blue away, and then-

Light. Searing, blinding and painful as it arched over the lion, shorting the systems and setting every nerve on fire in reaction. Then he was falling, or Blue was falling, and the world spun around several times before he finally passed out, just as his lion hit the ground.

His head hurt like a ton of bricks, but someone was shaking his shoulder, a voice piercing the haze and demanding his attention. He blinked heavy eyes open, groaning slightly in pain. His brain wasn't fully connecting what he was seeing, information received through a wall of sludge almost.

He was on his side on the floor, armor digging in painfully. There was a red glaring light a few feet ahead, symbols his brain couldn't make out on the screen. Whatever was shaking him was a hand, and they weren't letting up even with his eyes open.

A ringing pierced his ears as his eyes looked for the source of the shaking, finding a set of legs kneeling near his torso. He traced them up to a torso, to a chestplate with a red 'v', which-

'That's weird. Keith is red. Why would he be here, sitting so close to me?'

As his eyes tracked up to confirm that it was, indeed, Keith, his ears decided to take that moment to clear.

"-on, Lance, just respond, please! This is exactly what I was worried about! If I had just-"

Wetness landed on Lance's cheek and he was further surprised to see Keith was crying as his eyes landed on his face.

Keith never cries. What in Voltron is going on?

Unable to see him like that anymore, Lance managed to croak out. "Worried? Keith, are you alright?"

Keith startled, broken from his rambling. His gave a laugh that sounded hysterical, helping Lance sit up. "Tell me that you're okay, and I'm fine."

Lance sighed, leaning on Keith a little heavily. Later, he would talk to Keith about everything, clear up just what he had said, and what it meant. But that was later. For now…

She was manhandled into a truck and strapped down to a gurney with industrial grade restraints because they knew just how strong she could be. Still, she pulled against them, desperate not to go back because she had failed. And failure meant she was not a successful experiment.

She was being taken back for one of two reasons: reprogramming, where she'd be put through numerous test and training, worked until she passed out and went some more; or… discontinuation. Expiration. They would wipe the slate clean of her failure and mark her down as another notation.

And, despite the fact that she was a clone, despite the fact she had trained for one thing… she was beginning to realize she wanted more out of her life than that. And that, maybe, that was why the original Max had fought so hard to stay away after escaping.

So why shouldn't she?

Well, the tranquilizer to the neck was probably a pretty good reason to remain calm, but she can't exactly control that.

When she wakes next, she is still restrained, but to a hospital bed now, wrists tied to the bars and a cuff around her ankle. The room is glaringly white and smells of over-sterilization.

The School.

But she had woken up, and that at least counted for something.

Maya (she was workshopping it, give her a break) looked around the room that was devoid of anything but her and regular hospital equipment, but found nothing even in wing reach that she could use to break herself out. She was in this for the foreseeable future, then. What a pain.

The door opens to a volley of white coats, all swarming the bed like bees and talking to each other over her head, like she wasn't even there.

"List of samples needed?"

"Hair, nail, blood, and one from the wings," one read out, looking over a clipboard.

"Hey," she said, trying to get their attention.

"We'll need sizable amounts of each, don't forget roots," another said as a needle is produced.

"Just what are you looking for- ow!"

There is a brief pain as her hair is yanked from her scalp, a few strands, but still. The scientists look it over, ignoring her as the needle pierces her arm.

"About one bag full should be enough for synthesis," comes yet another voice.

A gloved hand pulls her hand on the other side flat, holding it when she tries to pull away.

"At least give a little warning- ow!"

Pliers had pulled a nail, far too close to the bed. It was deposited into a separate tube and labeled like her hair.

When hands went to her back, pulling at her wings, she fought, but the restraints held her down. As they pulled a wing out and flat, the needle was pulled away.

"One of the primaries would be best, but take a secondary as well."

"Not my feathers, you sick, twisted-"

She is cut off as they pull the mentioned feathers, each one making her curse up a storm as they are yanked from where they belong. She is breathing slightly heavily as they bustle about the room, evidence of their visit quickly swept away. As they bustle to the door, she can just hear them speak once more.

"Analysis of these items should provide details of the failure. If they can be improved, we'll start over."