Running up the hilltop, squeezing the scroll against her body, Lonna couldn’t help but smile. Never mind the tightness in her chest from an hour of running. Never mind about the brambles scratching at her arm as she ducked between trees. Never mind the ringed moon overhead, which brightly lit the sky enough for even a human to see her.  

...Except maybe she did mind the last bit, a little.  She was grateful for the shadow of the trees, and the cover of her green cloak, which worked together to obscure her features. 

Of course, no matter how much effort she put into darting through shadows, it meant nothing with a traveling companion like Talith. Every time the laspi planted his fists into the ground and swung his body forward, he made a thud that surely could reach every ear in the forest. But even if he was silent as a mouse, a six foot tall creature of clay couldn’t exactly blend into the foliage. Again, Lonna wished she could have convinced Talith to stay home. Especially since he objected to her plan. But in the end, he was her brother, and she couldn’t just leave him.

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” Talith muttered, as if reading Lonna’s thoughts.

“Don’t you get bored of repeating yourself? You said the same thing about my last two plans.”

“No. Coming back to Ife was a bad idea. Stealing from the queen was a stupid idea. This? This right here is a terrible idea.”

Lonna just rolled her eyes and continued to stride up the hill. Her breathing was coming in ever shorter gasps, as she forced her way further up the hillside, but she squashed it down, along with her anger at Talith’s constant naysaying. “If you didn’t want me to cast the spell, you shouldn’t have let me steal it.” 

Sure, Talith had tried to talk her out of stealing the scroll, back when she first brought the plan up. Lonna wasn’t the sort to be stopped by mere talk, though. Maybe if he’d been willing to put up fists, things would have been different. Or maybe she just would have given him a proper beatdown. Lonna herself didn’t know what could have been. She only knew that he had failed to stop her, just like the palace guards.

Intellectually it did occur to Lonna that she was being unfair; she was the one doing whatever she wanted, and it wasn’t right to blame everyone else for failing to stop her. But then she shrugged off that uncomfortable thought, grinned widely to herself, and squeezed the large scroll tight against her body.  “Just think of it as Sorissa giving me a birthday gift. Besides… I think summoning the heroine is my best plan yet.”

The heroine. The one who would defeat Sorissa. The only one who could put an end to their immortal queen’s unjust rule. Lonna had first heard that name as a child, asking for bedtime stories. Back then, the idea of someone who could kill an immortal queen had made her shiver with fright… but back then, she hadn’t understood what sort of person Sorissa was. She hadn’t realized how evil the queen could be. Now, if she was shivering, it was with delight. She would be the one to summon a legend and free everyone.

When they finally crested the hilltop, Lonna immediately kneeled down in the grass. Placing the summoning scroll down on the floor, she unrolled the large piece of parchment to reveal the first words of the summoning spell. Though it was really more of an introduction: “To summon the heroine in your heart,” was written out clearly in fluik, an intricate script that wrapped itself into a circle.

Even though she’d barely unveiled the instructions, Lonna’s heart was already pounding with excitement. “What sort of person do you think she’ll be?” she asked Talith.

“How should I know? You’re the one always going on about her.” Talith had his arms crossed and his back turned, pretending to keep a lookout. The stiffness in his speech betrayed the anger that Lonna knew was mainly directed at Sorissa. She didn’t want to think about that, though. She wanted to focus on the spell.

“She’s probably strong and smart, and cares. I bet she kills tyrants for fun.” While there were rumors and stories about the heroine, no one actually knew what she looked like or what she did when she wasn’t killing immortal despots. The only thing Lonna knew was what the queen had said time and time again: her reign would end when the heroine came.

Now Lonna had the spell to summon her, stolen from the queen’s own library- something she doubted any other thief could accomplish. Even better - when she’d taken the time to actually read the spell, she’d found it shockingly easy to cast. One simply had to climb a hill under a full moon, and carve the proper runes into the dirt. 

Of course, the fact that it was so simple was cause for a little concern. Since it had no special techniques, or particular equipment, it was like a brute force sort of spell. The sort of thing that simply tore whatever power was necessary from the caster. And she had no idea how much power it would take. 

“You know… You don’t have to be the one to summon her.”

Talith’s comment dragged Lonna from her thoughts, and she blinked blankly up at her brother. Although she understood the words that were being spoken, they made very little sense to her.

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean. You did this, fine. Why not let someone else finish it? I know you care about-“

“I cared about Mom,” Lonna spat at her brother, daring him to repeat his absurd suggestion that she should let anyone take away her victory.

Talith looked away.  “...Mom would have wanted us to stay safe.”

“We’ll be safe when Sorissa’s dead,” Lonna said, staring at the ground. She knew what their mother would have said, sure, but Sorissa had killed her. 

If not for that… if she’d been left in peace…  Lonna knew she wouldn’t have lifted a finger to stop Sorissa. She would have, as Talith put it, let someone else finish it. 

Was she a terrible person, for not simply wanting to stand against tyranny? ...Maybe. But Lonna didn’t care.

Spreading the scroll out, she skimmed the instructions one more time before turning to the list of symbols. She found a twig and, careful not to get so much as a line out of place, she began to etch the symbols into the ground, in a circle large enough for a woman to stand.

Some small part of Lonna hoped that she’d be stopped. But Talith wouldn’t do it, and Mom couldn’t, and Sorissa would have done so by now. The only way the spell would fail was if she, Lonna, gave up.

It wasn’t like she wanted to die. But she wasn’t exactly doing this as a pure hearted princess, calling on a noble heroine for help. She was just a dirty thief. So if she died… Well.

All that mattered was that the spell succeeded. 

All that mattered was the heroine.

Arching his back, and stretching his hands toward the ceiling, David tried to shake off the stiffness that came from sitting too long in one place. The drawing he’d been working on, a sketch of a dragon fruit, had taken much longer than it should have to complete. Though the time had gone less into the drawing, and more into the research. The assignment had only been to sketch a fruit, but David had been assigned a dragon fruit, so he’d wanted to make sure he got the spikes right, and the seed placement correct. He hadn’t been sure if there was really a pattern in dragon fruit seeds - there wasn’t - and researching that had only led him down the rabbit hole further, until he’d ended up doing three hours of research for a single sketch. He still had a few hundred pages of reading to do for his other classes, as well.

Thankfully, it was a Friday. He could take some time off. Maybe have a nap? Though that would probably turn into sleeping through the night. Maybe if he just napped in his chair? He  always woke up after a few hours when he dozed off at his desk, and that could qualify as a nap… but then he usually just ended up crawling into bed and going back to sleep. Besides, he had put laundry in the dryer before he started focusing on the sketch, and he was pretty sure it had to be finished. 

...Well, he’d go get his laundry and then maybe play on his laptop in bed, until sleep claimed him. Perhaps he’d even stay up as late as Eleven PM. 

“I don’t get it, man?”

David froze in place, upon hearing his assigned roommate’s voice. It had emanated from the kitchen and, now that David was actually listening, he could hear the faint sound of bottles clinking against each other as Anthony rummaged about in the fridge. Not that Anthony actually kept any of his own food in the fridge. He usually ate in the cafeteria, which meant that the fridge was mostly stocked by David. Which didn’t stop it from being treated as communal by Anthony. Something David would have considered bringing up, if not for the nature of. Well. Anthony.

“Why can’t I get laid? I thought college was supposed to be a smorgasbord of horny chicks!”

“...Maybe it’s because you say stuff like that…?” 

The tone in David’s voice was angry, but his words were spoken low. They weren’t meant to be heard. Which only meant it was a surprise when Anthony turned around, and tapped at the grey bluetooth piece in his ear.

“You say something, man? I’m on the phone.”

“I…” David swallowed, took a deep breath. This was his chance. This was his chance to stand up, not just for the women on campus, who weren’t here to do it themselves, but for his own self. Anthony showed no respect for anyone, and all David needed to do was say the words. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath… and looked away, so that Anthony wouldn’t see the scowl on his face. “...I said I need to go check on my laundry.”

“Ooooookay? You gonna check in on me about your bathroom breaks, too?”

“Sorry…” 

Anthony didn’t respond; to David, at least. He was talking quite a bit to his friend, on the bluetooth, and by the time that David actually escaped the room he’d heard a couple theories about why the girls weren’t into “real men” at this school.

As soon as the door was closed, and the words were left behind, David moved for the stairwell. He was on the third floor, and the laundry machines were in the basement. He had plenty of time to think about what his roommate had said… and how he was at fault, too, for never having the courage to say a word. 

David reached the basement quickly, his legs moving almost as fast as his thoughts. Out of breath, David decided to sit down, and lean back against the washing machines. Glancing both ways, to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, he wrapped a few strands of brown hair around his finger, and tugged hard enough to hurt. It was a bad habit his mother had long been trying to talk him out of, but he honestly felt that it helped him think. It took some of the mental anguish, and pain, and made it physical, relatable, and understandable, so that he could move past it.

Today, it wasn’t helping much. What was I supposed to say, he wondered. “Hey, can you stop treating women like shit?” Like that would have gone over well… and it wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. He’d never listen to me.

...I'll say something. Next time, I'll definitely say something. After all... You gotta be the kind of person you want to see.

Deciding to shelve the matter, for the time being, David got back to his feet and made his way to the dryers in the back of the basement. Opening the machine, though, caused the overflowing unit to drop an article of clothing: a pink bra, with even bright pink lace decorating the bottom of the cups.

“This… Is definitely not mine,” the college student whispered, leaning down to pick it up, completely unaware of the glowing lights forming in the air above him. “None of these clothes are mine,” he muttered, standing up and peering into the dryer. The lights began to descend. “Did something-”

He was gone.