No, not Elisabeth. A mother, rousing to bring vengeance upon the creature she birthed. That, I cannot allow.[break]
Wo-Chien does not see me coming, not until it’s too late. At the last moment, a ghost appears behind him. Olivier draws the snail’s attention. It is enough. Were my blade made of simple steel, it would not pierce the god's tablets.[break]
My blade is orichalcum, star-metal, the stuff of a god, taken and forged by flame into a killing tool. It shatters the tablet. Mystic Fire from some unknown source lights across the leaves. Wo-Chien screams, caught off guard by the attack. Its eyes turn upon its avatar for help, but she is frozen. She is the first to realize what the creature’s death will mean.[break]
I have no time to consider beyond that – not with the eyes of a god turned upon me. I may wield one’s might as a killing claw, this creature is a god in truth and fact. Wo-Chien, even dying, will not suffer this indignity.[break]
Something inside me is broken. Something inside me rots. I cannot move. I take a step and I fall to a knee. My circuits whir. They buzz. They snap.[break][break]
I look to Elisabeth Fiorelli and see a woman realizing she is not a witch anymore.

I don’t see the resemblance, but I see how he sees it.[break]
Her eyes are spread a little farther apart. Elisabeth’s emeralds shine brighter than the jade. Her lips are a little fuller, ears higher…[break]
But the pieces are there. It’s in the eyes. Not the color, but that expression on the first day. Vacant. Elsewhere. Eyes of the Madonna, which tug at a murderer’s heart.[break]
Once upon a lifetime, my empath’s horn sounded through the liege lord like a tuning fork. It picked up what she once was, who she wanted to be. She swears she would have been an actress, if she’d never met Joshua. He makes her promises. She knows he won’t keep them. Just one more year, they’ll be happy. It’s a lie, and she was a good actress.[break]
She clings to Elisabeth Fiorelli like a shadow, like an old grudge brought to life. Her son says there is no justice in the world, except the justice you make for yourself. She crawls across the witch, possessing her form, festering in her hate. She realized too late that the creature she grew in her womb would kill her.[break]
This not Elisabeth Fiorelli, no more than Penelope Livy was the Penny my liege lord knew. My eyes turn upon Wo-Chien. He alone is real enough to count.[break]
I just have to wait for my moment.

“If I wasn’t your prisoner, I’d poison that cat.” Crystal sipped on her tea. This fantastic place did not know if Elisabeth Fiorelli or her servants would know good tea from bad tea, but the Rider’s mind assumed she would. The brew was exquisite, something generically expensive. A minor war had probably been fought over the leaves, somewhere along the way.[break]
“If you weren’t my prisoner,” Elisabeth Fiorelli, Witch of Ballonlea, said, “I’d tell you I’ve tried to kill him myself with every poison I know.” Wo-Chien, the source of the forest’s blight, squinted its eyes and looked through the window. It did not speak, but it voiced its displeasure.[break]
Both women shared a quiet laugh.[break]
“Some might be afraid to drink a witch’s tea.” Said the Witch.[break]
“You’re not going to kill me.” Crystal said confidently. “Not until Father fights his way up here. I might die then, but not now.”[break]
“It could be a slow acting poison.”[break]
“I’ll be fine.” The princess in the tower said to the Witch. “It’s in his nature to fight, and he’s made it his nature to save people.” She sensed a rebuke coming at those words, so the girl kept talking. “Come on. We’ve got time. Are you a fan of chess?”[break]
“I am.”[break]
“See? A much better use of our time than debating whether I’ll die before they get here.” She’d never admit it, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Faith drives her to think everything will be okay. It’s her father’s nature to save things, to try and help. She has faith he will obey his nature. She has faith in the Witch, too. Her nature is to sting at the worst possible second, which this is not. The Witch retrieved a chessboard, and they played a game. Crystal noticed with some curiosity that the pawns looked like Galarian Meowths.