Crouching Bacon

We can bring the whole cast.

Spoiler

See, here's Magnar and Aera.

“Live.”

A searing light engulfed all; though the ship hurtled to the ground like some crippled bird, Aera’s hopes soared.

“He’s alive… and he’s saved us.”

Then, for the third time that day, everything faded to black.

------

The warmth that Aera awoke to was not exactly unpleasant, though peculiar. Beneath her, something felt like a lumpy mattress that smelled heavily of well-worn leather.

“… It’s so warm…”

For some reason the mattress fit her form so very well– quite like falling into a pair of cushy cup holders. She was about to drift off into sleep again when it spoke.

“I'm not sorry if that's what you're thinking, Aera.”

Her eyes flew open, growing to the size of dinner plates as the beginnings of a blush darkened her skin.

“Aagh!”

Reaching down her dress, she released the blade strapped to her thigh and held it against his groin, with enough force for the cloth to start tearing where the blade touched it.

“Unhand my breasts, Hadrian. I’m giving you the mercy of dying with your manhood intact.”

If Lily were here, he probably would have already been roasted to a crisp. Death by a thousand cuts seemed equally fulfilling. Ten thousand, even better. Aera drew back, ready to plunge the blade into his sinful flesh.

“Die, snake!”

The metal already ripped through the cloth when a loud tap disturbed the ongoing murder. Aera held the blade in place, looking up the glass pane to see a strange girl covered in what seemed to be strange markings written with blood. As far as she knew, there were only two people in the Wyvern: herself and the disgraced captain. Just who was this girl? More importantly, was she hurt?

“Are you–”

"Hurry up and finish, you perverts. It's cold out here and there's probably wolves!"

“Pervert? I’m the damn victim here, runt!”

At that moment, Aera didn’t know which one she wanted to stab first. Had the Lichtgestalt been by her side, the girl would have been taught a lesson in manners– a few scars never hurt anyone. Hissing curses under her breath, the princess contented herself with accidentally nicking Hadrian in the thigh. The wound was bloody, but superficial.

“…”

She glared at him, but then ripped a portion of her dress, soaked it in the green fluid left over from one of her vials, and hastily dressed the wound.

“Get us out of here before I change my mind.”

Turning to the girl above, Aera took in her ragged appearance; despite the torn clothes, the strange markings, and the fact that her staff almost dwarfed her, she looked surprisingly capable. Even an untrained eye could tell that the weapon was a far cry from those wands that novices waved around.

“You there. What is your name?”

She may be a child, but if she was as useful as Aera thought she was, then she would readily forgive her previous altercation.

“She probably doesn’t even know what pervert means. At least I hope so.”

Hadrian’s death would have to wait. After all, they needed a navigator. Other than Lysander and Caius, nobody knew the route better than he did.

"This man here is under my supervision. He and I just had a disagreement," she said, all the while shooting him a look of utter contempt.

Well, I'm taking my sweet time.

Aera is currently on top of Hadrian, and it's going to make for one hilarious situation.

Magnar is in dire straits currently...the only women (he knows) alive are all he consider younger sisters or too high for his stature..

 

So help from Caius or his mother is intended to find him a girl..

who else is in need of Caius' pimpin' services?

That awkward moment when you're balling your eyes out because someone died in a movie, but everyone around you erupts into laughter because the person 'died funny', so you hurry to dry your eyes before someone sees you.

or, alternately, that awkward moment where the character died and a lot of people cry/look sad while you laugh out loud.

makes you look like some kind of sociopath.

we all should, at one point or another.

it's just like changing dance partners.

do you want to pleasure us with a slice of cake, or a faceful of pie?

i find it soothing to listen to foreign languages.

kinda like ambient background noise.

TVTropes eats up my days like they are cookies. And it's the cookie monster.

y'know how they say when you're about to die and your life flashes before your eyes?

when that happens to me, most of what i'll see are those damned webpages.

that and me trying to tropify my life. >.>

i don't even remember how i got sucked into that site anyway XD

Quirky side note: Tyr would have been conceived and born during Freya's conquering of the rival tribes. Fear the pregnant warrior queen! FEAR HER!

oh hey inu~

I found that hilarious on many levels..To think that she could hand them a whiping when she was pregnant, god knows how scary would she be normally

i think fighting to protect a life within her made her an even more fericious fighter!

The Way Down

Gravity flipped the ship around, throwing Aera back. One of her hands clawed at the metal floor, the other clutching her sword with a death grip as its blade raked the tilting surface.

But this was not the earth; there was nothing to hold on to.

"Agh!” Her body hit the rungs of the ladder with a resounding clang. The sheer force of the impact combined with the awkward angle at which she was hit sent pain shooting through her system, paralyzing her limbs and rendering her immobile and completely vulnerable– a ragdoll of fate.

“Move, move, move… I’m not dying here!”

Again, another tremor shot through the doomed airship. Aera’s body soared backwards into the hangar she tried so hard to run from, rendered weightless by the forces shaking everything down into little bits and pieces.

Then, something grabbed her as she sailed through the air. Aera dared to hope.

“Lysa–” Her blood ran cold when she noticed her brother’s limp body by the wall.

The warmth of the arm that kept her from falling stood in stark contrast to the hard, grey eyes that gazed upon her, contrite.

“I’m sorry, Aera.”

“…I’ll give you sorry! Let me go…!” She glared at him, eyes dilated with hatred and indignation, which turned into desperation as Hadrian deposited her onto the Wyvern.

“Please. Don’t save me.” whispered Aera, before falling unconscious– a small mercy for the forsaken princess who, in the end, could do nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

In the darkness behind her eyelids, she thought she heard his soothing voice guide her towards the light.

---Flashback---

“Elaborate on how the political entities of Empyria influenced the economy of the Northern tribes.”

“In theory or in practice?”

“Imagine father asking you the question.”

“I bet he would be pleased if I gave some borderland nobles a good kick in the–”

“Aera, this is only the first question. There are five pages.”

“I know, I know.”

“Good. Now write.”

 “Hey, Ly?”

 “Come to think of it… I should have asked Caius to tutor you instead.”

“You’re going to make dad look like an idiot someday, when he stands beside you.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Figure it out yourself.”

“What lies at the center of this universe?”

“The sun! Was that really on the list? This exam’s a breeze.”

“Wrong.”

“What? Why?”

“Figure it out yourself.”

---End---

Aera was out for only ten minutes, in which Hadrian executed their escape. Though for all she knew, it could have been an eternity. It certainly felt like it.

Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned.

“Ouch. My head… Where am I?”

Memories of the catastrophe came flooding back as the haze of pain wore off. Aera sat bolt upright, nearly colliding with the interface beneath the windshield.Outside, the Dawn began its inevitable descent. Fire and smoke leaked through the hull’s gaping wounds; a few poor souls fell out of broken windows and into the empty sky.

“No!”

Screaming, Aera hit the glass shield with a bare fist. It would have shattered on impact had it not been reinforced. Again and again, she hit it until her knuckles began to bruise; beating the pane down with some frenzied rhythm that escaped reason. It didn’t take long before her shoulders began to shake and she broke down in tears.

“Hadrian, why?”

Eyes filled with grief, she turned to the man sitting beside her.

Salvation and damnation were merely two sides of the same coin, it seems.

i'm in a retirement home making sweaters for three legged cats.

Again, the ship shook; the lights above the passageway flickered ominously.

"We're running out of time!"

Heavy footfall echoed past the corridors as Aera sprinted, mustering all her stength to push forward as far as gravity would permit before inevitably pulling her back.

"Lily... Caius... Tyr... Magnar... Sashya... Garm... I must see them again." muttered the princess under her breath, trying not to waste any more oxygen.

Reaching behind her, she pulled on the ribbon that bound her hair, a habit she picked up on the battlefield. The golden strands fell, flowing past her shoulders, untamed and unfettered.

"Focus, Aera."

She grit her teeth and pressed onward.

-----

Eventually, Aera reached the half-way point, panting slightly. The weight from the armor may have been useful in a fight, but in her mad dash, Aera had yet to encounter any of the cursed corpses. She was about to take it off when the faint sound of voices and footsteps sent her running again, this time, in the direction of the throne room. With every step she took the voices only grew louder. It only meant one thing– Sashya had been successful on her part. Now all they had to do was get to the airship.

The Wyvern awaits.

Her thoughts turned to its traitorous father, but she pushed it to the back of her head. There was a time and place for bad news; at the moment, it would only send the already panicked nobles into a murderous frenzy. The goal was to escape. Alive.