A Curse Upon Thee 2-13

“This… this is my fault.” 

It was the same thing she’d muttered over and over since they’d left the castle — three times in the last hour even — and Mulan seemingly hadn’t gotten tired of parroting the sentence on repeat.

The trek back from the ruined castle didn’t have a soundtrack, unless you counted the squelch of mud under feet and the almost-synchronized wheezing of five people who had officially spent a good two-and-a-half days testing the limits of human endurance.

Also, Mulan’s muttering was the most unhelpful commentary Finn could ask for.

He understood, of course.

Both warrior and princess were as shocked as Mary Margaret when they told the two of them about Lancelot, but Aurora had picked herself up quicker at least.

Almost as quick as Mary Margaret. 

Mulan?

The normally-composed warrior had been taking her sweet time these last two days meandering through all five stages of grief.

Not like anyone else is in a better mood, though. Emma, especially, was not having a fun time at all. It wasn’t just the fact their way back home was gone, but also that they’d been traveling almost nonstop over the last two days, making camp well after the sun went down and waking up before the sun even poked over the horizon just to keep moving.

Finn knew he couldn’t complain as much as anyone else, though.

With his body stronger than ever, even without Cursed Energy reinforcing him, it had only taken a few hours to get over Cora’s telekinesis bullshit. Even a high-speed impact on a stone wall hard enough to crack it didn’t do much to keep him down — which was nice — but he still wasn’t sure of his own limits.

Even still, two days with barely any sleep and the same annoying comment was enough to push both his physical and mental.

“Your fault?” Finn raised a thick red eyebrow at Mulan to his left, the warrior woman almost radiating a cloud of heavy and not-so-silent guilt, her jaw set so tight he was surprised it hadn’t cracked yet. “You a purple-smoking witch now or what?”

The warrior snapped to face him, dark eyes narrowed in something that might have been a glare if it wasn’t so tired. “I knew Lancelot well, sorcerer. He was a brother-in-arms, loyal and true. If Cora was wearing his skin, using his voice…” She shook her head slow, looking away from Finn. “I should have seen the seams. The failure rests on my shoulders alone.”

“Oh, please.” Emma’s grunt came from the back where she walked behind her mother, voice ragged and raw to no one’s surprise. “Let’s not do this right now.”

Especially not his.

Mulan eyed her. “Do what?”

“This whole pity party bullshit.” Emma was barely human on a good day without her coffee and days spent sleeping on dirt and grass had only made her so much worse. She let out another wordless grunt, brushing another chunk of mud off her red leather jacket and… well, the less said about her hair, the better. “The whole shape-shifting thing would throw anyone. In my line of work, if a suspect changes their hair color, it buys them a good three days.”

“Yeah…” Finn hummed. “That was new to me too.

“And I knew him even longer than you did, Mulan.” Snow Margaret looked tinier than ever under her pink shawl, dark shadows around her eyes. “For me to stand in that room and not recognize the rot inside his words… it breaks my heart. But Finn saw it.”

“Because Finn doesn’t look at the face.” He clicked his tongue, thinking back to that annoying fight two nights back. “People can lie with their mouths or their eyes or whatever. But the residuals? Nah, she was covered in some ugly energy and on top of that, you ever smelled rose petals dipped in blood? That was the old lady.”

“It matters little now.” Mulan said that but Finn didn’t miss the way her fingers twitched toward her sword. “The wardrobe is ash, your path home burned along with it. And I still do not know what we are to tell the people at the safe haven. They look to Lancelot for hope. If they know he was a hollow shell…”

“We could start with the truth?”

“What truth?” Mulan challenged, stopping dead on the trail to glare at him. “That their legendary leader was a child-eating witch of pure evil this entire time? That their sanctuary was managed by the enemy?”

“…she eats kids?”

“No, no, that’s just a myth.” Snow Margaret waved that question away as he stepped between both Mulan and Finn. “But Finn does have a point. We tell them the truth, just… tailored. Their leader, Lancelot the Brave, was in fact cut down by a terrible villain and died an honorable death in defense of the realm.”

Realm. Finn fought the urge to roll his eyes. Such a weird word. Realm.

“We keep the memory of our friend intact.” The woman adjusted the bow on her shoulder as she nodded. “We keep the hearts of the people from breaking.”

Mulan stared at her, no words found for several long seconds. 

Finally… “You are right.”

“And if we find Cora waiting for us?” Princess Aurora trembled from the back, her fancy dress somehow in far better condition than Emma’s leather and denim. “What then?”

“Then we do what we always do.” Mulan’s hand settled on the pommel of her blade. “We defend what is left of the realm.”

…realm. Finn snorted. I gotta get used to that word.

“And you will lead us, Mulan?”

“No, Aurora. I am but a warrior.” Mulan didn’t hesitate with the denial as she cast a look towards the woman with the bow and arrow. “There is only one queen among us.”

“I… I’m honored, Mulan.” Mary Margaret blinked her way, a genuine flush rising on her pale cheeks. “Truly. But we still need to find a way back to Storybrooke. My husband is there. My life is there.”

“We’re getting back,” Finn’s jaw tightened, Ruby’s green eyes flashing behind his eyelids. “I’m not spending the rest of my life playing Robin Hood with no indoor plumbing.”

“You’ve met Sir Robin of Locksley?”

Finn looked over at Aurora, mouth moving silently as he tried to find a way to answer that. God, I hate Fairyland.

“We’ll help you.” Mulan saved him from answering, her tone shifting to something closer to respect as she looked his way. “We’ll find a way. Won’t we, sorcerer?”

Finn raised an eyebrow at Mulan’s change in attitude. “…sure.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

That way seemed to turn into a whole lot more talking over the last few hours of their travel, two days of silence suddenly no longer that quiet the closer they got; the high logs of the camp’s perimeter showing through the brush.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” Emma raised an eyebrow as Aurora spoke, the princess’s whisper to herself loud enough for everyone to hear. “What are we talking about now?”

“This lying thing.” The woman in the silks shook her head. “I’m a princess. I’m not… I’m not a very good liar.”

What… Finn looked back, a question on his face and waiting on his lips. “That seems like exactly what a princess should be good at, Sleeping Beauty. Royalty is like all politics, and politics is all lies.”

“Sleeping Beauty?” Aurora blinked his way, mouth pursed in mild offense for all of a few seconds. “I know not what opinion you bear of royalty, sorcerer Finn. But honor and grace are a lady’s armor and a princess even moreso.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He clicked his tongue, hands going back into his pockets. “I’m probably good enough at it for the both of us. It’s all just moving the mouth until the heat goes away.”

“It’s not really lying at all.” Snow Margaret chimed in again. “I promise, Aurora.”

Finn made a face, unsure how true that was supposed to be. “I don’t knoooow…”

“Lancelot did die an honorable death against Cora, who did escape from her cell,” Mary Margaret insisted. “All of that is as true as anything can be.”

Alright. Finn snorted. “Pretty sure any court would hold you in contempt for a lie of omission.”

“What?” Emma stopped, boots sinking an inch into the moss as she frowned at him. “Finn, how do you even know what a lie of omission or contempt of court looks like?”

“…Emma, we’re cops.”

Emma rolled her eyes so hard Finn was surprised they didn’t fall out of her head.  “Finn…”

“Fine.” He let out a slow sigh, one hand working through a knot in his hair. “Ruby makes me watch Law & Order marathons with her.” 

“There we go.” Both hands went up to rub her temples as she sighed just as loud as Finn. “Back to reality.”

“Well, I don’t see a court here to hold me in anything.” Snow Margaret held her chin high as she pointed it toward the camp just in front of them. “And I still see no reason to cause unnecessary panic among the people.”

Aurora’s eyes tracked up toward the rough wooden palisades of the camp. “I’m not so sure it’s unnecessary…”

“Wait. The main tower.” Mulan’s hand went straight to her hilt, her posture dropping low as Finn felt the hair on his arms stand tall. We always have two sentries guarding the western entrance. Where are they?” With a sharp shhhk, her steel cleared the scabbard. “Stay close. Behind me.”

“Oh my God,” Emma breathed as they pushed through the canvas gates, Finn’s eyes just as wide as hers as they took in the state of the place. 

Bodies.

Everywhere and anywhere.

The dirt paths trailing the entire haven were littered with the dead; men, women, fighters in boiled leather — all of them scattered across the camp the way a kid would drop his toys on a bedroom floor.

“What the hell?”

“This can’t be.” Mulan’s blade trembled as she ran toward the first row of tents. “This… no, how could this happen?”

“Our land…” Aurora’s hands flew to her mouth but it didn’t do a thing to silence the near-sob that slipped through anyway. “We knew safety here. How… how did the ogres find us so quickly?”

Finn walked past a fallen guard, blue eyes scanning the corpse. Yeah, no. “Ogres didn’t do this.”

“What?” Aurora spun on him, eyes wilder than he’d ever seen from the princess. “What do you mean, Finn? Do you not see them? What else could kill so many?”

“I am seeing.” And he didn’t need Dr Whale’s medical degree to know that no ogre had anything to do with this, massacre or not. “And what I’m seeing is that this is too clean to be ogres.” A hand waved over all the unmoving bodies, each and every one of them completely intact like they just dropped dead out of nowhere. “You don’t think it’s weird that there’s no blood, no bruising, nothing broken or crushed?”

He looked up at Emma, one eyebrow held high. “Ems, back me up on this. I fought ogres, you’ve seen at least one. If they got in here, boss lady, these people would be pesto, not pristine.” And that didn’t even go into how these houses wouldn’t even be standing. We’d be looking at kindling, and that goes for the walls too.

Emma knelt down beside the body of a young woman, two fingers checking for a pulse they all knew wouldn’t be there before she looked up. “Finn’s not wrong here. No sign on trauma. It’s like someone just pulled the plug.”

“Or pulled their hearts.”

Finn’s attention snapped over to the short-haired queen in their party, the woman staring daggers at the bodies. “What.”

Snow Margaret shook her head, voice coming out nearly as raw as it had when they’d lost their way home. “Cora. She did this. I know it. This is her magic… the same one she taught to Regina. All their hearts… everyone here… they were ripped out of their chests.”

Emma’s mouth fell open. “Like Graham?”

Her mother nodded. “Exactly like Graham.”

“She tried to Kali Ma me?” Finn’s jaw tightened as the absolute lethality of the old witch sank in deep. Fuck… The fact he’d been so close to death and still wasn’t sure how he made it out in one piece was not doing anything to make him feel better out of it. Blue eyes flicked down to his chest, fingers wrapped tight around his red locket. “The old bitch is running around playing Temple of Doom with real people.”

“We need to put an end to this evil.” Mary Margaret’s eyes hardened as they roamed the bloodless carnage all around her. “We have to find her and put an end to her before she plays with another life like this.”

Hell yeah! Finn opened his mouth to voice that much when a low groan bubbled through the silence of the slaughter, the sound coming from a thick pile of discarded canvas and wicker baskets.

Finn’s head snapped toward the sound. “…Uh, guys.”

“Too late for that.” Mulan’s eyes were dead as the bodies she looked at, her gaze on a dead child near the fire pit. “She killed them. The witch killed them all, Queen Snow. Who is there left to defend here?”

“Guys.” Finn tried one more time, boots already cutting through the dirt.

“We put an end to her evil for all the many more throughout these lands.” Snow Margaret remained insistent, the woman gripping tight to her bow. “We must.”

“Hey, fairytale idiots! Shut up and look!” Four sets of eyes snapped over to him, Finn’s voice echoing into the clearing as he reached down, hands pulled back a heavy mud-soaked wool tarp. Another weak groan rolled out from beneath the fabric.

“I found…” The words choked up in his throat as he rolled the figure over and saw the face beneath the tarp.

Bright green eyes shuttered open slowly, peering up at him through long dark lashes. Flecks of gold stood out with each blink, the afternoon light making them shine like buried treasure.

She was young, the girl probably no older than he was; a pale face half-smeared with black mud and forest grime beneath a head wrapped tight in a dark ratty shawl that looked pulled from a scrap heap. More than anything, it fit the rest of what she had on.

Even still…

Even with the dirt and the rags, it didn’t do a thing to hide the look of her face or the thick strands of dark purple hair that fell down around her neck in stark contrast to skin as pale as Snow Margaret’s.

…whoa.

Those same gold-flecked eyes fluttered to a close, a soft sigh leaving her lips as her head slumped back against the dirt. Is… is she… Taking a page out of Emma’s book, Finn held two fingers to the girl’s neck and let out an immediate sigh of relief. Thank God.

Just out cold.

Still alive.

Still breathing.

“Yeah,” Finn swallowed a mouthful of nothing, fingers hesitating near the edge of her shawl before he pulled them back. “Definitely found someone ove rhere. Someone made it out.”

“Well, you’re not the only one. Look!” By the time he raised his head, Emma was already a good twenty yards away — boots kicking through a pile of fallen logs as she hauled a clearly-living body from a heap of others.

“Please…” A rasp cut through the forest air.

A man with a short brown beard — why is that beard so neat? — raised his head, one hand around his stomach as he groaned out loud. “Please… help me. Anyone.”

Aurora was there as quickly as her feet could carry her, one soft hand against the man’s shoulder for comfort. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

“Please… she killed… she killed so many.” His words were a wheeze, the man’s eyes wide with terror. “Please help me.”

“It’s okay,” Snow’s voice was soft as she knelt on his other side. “You’re safe now. We won’t hurt you.”

“Thank… thank you…”

Finn opened his mouth, something weird about the guy in front of the women, only to blink as  the world hitched. 

Out of nowhere, a long straight sword with a leather-wrapped hilt — sheathe and all — floated for a bare second in the air at his side.

Finn blinked at it, mouth open.

After a half-second more, the blade dropped straight into the mud tip-first, digging into soft earth just next to his right boot.

Finn blinked again. …what even the hell?

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

By Hook or By… – 100 GP
Run into a mysterious stranger.

ROLL: Light Blade +  Sword (300) [20 Minutes Till Dawn] {Destruction}:

“Imbued with vitality and holy power, this weapon does two things. First it bolsters the vitality of the wielder, and secondly will unleash holy power to strike nearby foes. 

The weapons with this power are said to have originally been wielded by the angels.

_______________________________________ 

It is only through a blessing from the Winds that this is even a ranged weapon, much less a ‘gun.’ The blessing makes it so that slashes from the weapon travel a short distance, though the blessing runs out of steam rather quickly. A spin attack will restore the power of the blessing to allow more slashes to be launched forward.”

Grimoire Points: 800