Cheri finished conveying the plan to her father, and she felt more nervous than she ever had in her entire life.

She stood facing him, close enough to touch, though he couldn’t see her across the border of the Twilight Realm’s flickering colorless veil. Even so, she held her shoulders squared, back straight, face resolute as though she were trying to convince him face to face.

He didn’t respond right away, but he didn’t need to. Cheri could tell how he felt about the plan, about the battle, about everything. It was the first of the Seven Roads she’d learned how to use, and her strongest power by far.

He didn’t like the plan. It might even be accurate to say he hated the plan. He thought it was crazy, and he wanted to forbid her from enacting it. Cheri had long since vowed to never hold against someone the words they whispered in the secrecy of their minds, but rather in how they acted, but that silent unexpressed rejection always saddened her. What was worse was that she couldn’t really bring it up. Her ability to see straight into the hearts of people was a mighty gift, but to most it was also a near unforgivable breach of trust. Besides, the measure of a person lay in how well they could fight against those insidious whispers. Fear, self-loathing, condemnation...They were the first voices that spoke, and they were often the loudest.

It was mostly fear that she felt echoing in her father’s mind. Fear of the outcome, fear of failure, fear for her...She didn’t fault him for it. It was reassuring, in a way, that he worried for her so much. But it was that same fear that saw her hidden away for the first fifteen years of her life. It was a fear that she understood, but at the same time, it was a fear that she couldn’t tolerate any longer.

'You really think you can pull it off?'

Her heart began to beat faster.

'I think I’m the only one who could pull it off,' she thought back.

'Then we’re following your lead, he told her. Just…'

Cheri felt a pang of guilt at the pained expression that passed over her father’s face.

'Just be careful.'

Cheri turned away, floating up towards the hole in the ceiling. She slowly pivoted as she rose, until she had the angle to view the entire ritual chamber below. Uncle Casper was moving to re-engage the man who’d attacked her and Tyler at the glade. Just thinking about that fight, not even a full day before, set fury burning in her chest. Things had been going so well. She’d finally gotten her feelings across to Tyler, and she knew she’d been moments from getting through to Adela as well. 

It was the sort of thing that stirred the scary side of her. The part that wasn’t just a lonely girl who wanted to bring people together. The part that craved subjugation, that wanted to be worshipped and adored and feared all at the same time.

Cheri took a deep breath. There would be time to deal with that later. For now, she had to help her family. Everyone was counting on her, and if she failed, they would fail. It was a daunting burden, but it wasn’t like she could just refuse it. It was the only way.

Was this how you always felt, Emily? she thought sadly. Desperate and scared, with no way out but through?

Uncle Casper rushed through a flurry of knives, closing the distance to Ignacius in the space of a single breath. At the same time, Heidi, still holding Julia paralyzed in the air, turned her attention to Uncle Igor and the only Mantle that was still in her reach. 

“Now!” Cheri called out.

In the Twilight Realm, a flurry of activity burst forth. Her soldiers, friends and family both, rushed into position, ready for the operation to begin.

First, Uncle Morgan swapped Aunt Heidi and Ignacius. Even before she’d appeared, Casper’s arm was striking out, resulting in the heel of his palm connecting solidly with Heidi’s jaw almost exactly when she landed from the teleport.

Aunt Heidi’s body went limp, though she still hung a few inches off the ground. The Mantle was clinging to its Control over her, even when she no longer had a conscious mind to affect. Cheri had expected as much. The Yellow Mantle might have been thwarted by their host’s mind passing beyond their reach, but the Green seemed unconcerned. Heidi had relinquished Control to it, and so it remained at the helm.

Cheri turned to face Uncle Morgan, who was hesitating.

“You’re sure?” he asked, concern breaking through his characteristically stoic face.

It was starting to become tiresome, being asked that.

Honey and vinegar, Cheri thought to herself, putting a confident smile on.

“Leave it to me, Uncle,” Cheri answered. “I can handle it, and if things go south, I have my loyal guards.”

With a roll of his eyes, Morgan vanished, and Heidi appeared in his place. She whirled on the spot to face Cheri, and the unconscious woman’s body shuddered as the Mantle reacted to her presence.

“Hello, grandfather,” Cheri said quietly. Half a dozen emotions warred for dominance in her stomach. Fear, guilt, anger, shame...They were all ugly, primal feelings that she always tried to avoid giving any control to, but in that particular moment she knew she’d have to face them.

Fear. She suspected that many people associated the Rainbow Mage with the sheer terror he was capable of wreaking. Cheri had only met him once, and she remembered the encounter as one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. 

He’d come to her in a dream, the night of her tenth birthday, but she knew him for the real thing the moment she laid eyes on him. No dream had ever been so potent, no nightmare so frightening. More than just the power that emanated from him, like the heat from a furnace, more than the thought that he could erase her and the city they stood in with a wave of his hand, it was what he’d said to her that made her blood run cold with the mere memory of him.

He’d told her about her mother, what her mother was meant to be, and how she’d failed in that. He’d told her about what that made her, and how she wasn’t a failure. Cheri had everything that he needed, and nothing would stop him from claiming her as the vessel that her mother had failed to become. He’d whispered to her of oblivion and ascendance, and she’d screamed herself awake, the sound of his laughter still ringing in her ears.

Guilt, and shame. Her father and his closest allies had left that fateful night four years ago, headed towards the final battle. Sixteen souls, determined but grim. And though the nine that returned were triumphant, Cheri carried the weight of those who fell. Igor’s sons, Morgan’s master, Warwick’s students...They’d given their lives for Will’s cause, but Cheri knew deep down that Will’s cause was her. Every soldier who died in the war had died for her. Every time she saw the glimmer of her grandfather’s light in those shining Mantles, she was reminded of the cost.

And finally, anger. Her mother had cautioned her during her childhood, following a tantrum she’d thrown after being denied access to the manor-yard again. Anger was a dangerous emotion for anyone, but the pair of them had a special responsibility to keep their tempers in check. Her dad had stifled a chuckle at the advice, which her mom had silenced with a glare, but Cheri understood. When people had strength, they had a responsibility to keep that strength under control. To not unleash it on the undeserving.

Cheri couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more than her grandfather. Even four years after his death, he still sought to poison her family, he still reached out to steal everything she held dear.

No more.

The Mantle gave no sign that it understood her greeting. Cheri suspected that there wasn’t yet enough of her grandfather in it to form that sort of thought. More likely, this Mantle was just a concentration of the being’s desire to keep his creation under his thumb. His love for wreaking great works, for building and maneuvering and seeing a plan completed. Rather than respond, it simply reached out for her, the magic of the Green Road circling around her to press against her from all sides.

There was a stirring of uncomfortable movement from her new honor guard, but Cheri held a hand up. It wasn’t time for them to join the battle just yet.

Besides, there was no danger.

Cheri’s eyes flared green, and she felt the Control pour out of her body, washing over every person and loose stone in the ritual chamber. She felt the point where it crashed into the energy that was still emanating from the Green Mantle. She felt the strain in the opposing force, the eager desire to seize her.

It felt...weak.

Her mother had taught her how to manipulate the ambient magic of the universe, drawing from the Seven Roads as they ran through all creation, but that wasn’t her power. She had what none of the rest of them had, what they all wanted to possess. She had Agartha, and the eons of souls contained there who acknowledged her and no one else.

It was almost intoxicating, even feeling the very shallowest reaches of that power. Like tracing her fingertips on the surface of a pond, she could manage to draw out only slivers of power, but the impression of depth that she received each time was both staggering and enticing. She wanted to plunge into it, to draw up the boundless ocean and use it to rewrite their flawed reality.

It was the craving, hidden side of her, the part of her that terrified her more than her grandfather ever could. It was that fear that kept her from truly experiencing her birthright. The power wouldn’t possess her, the way her grandfather’s power was possessing Heidi, but becoming powerful had the potential to change her irrevocably.

So she sipped from her font of power, afraid that tasting too deeply would awaken in her a thirst that could never be slaked. Still, even in this dire situation, it would suffice. Her area of Control was stronger, faster, and wider than what the Mantle was capable of manifesting. In a battle of will that was largely invisible to the naked eye, Cheri engulfed the Mantle of Control’s desperate attempt at seizing her, pressuring the burgeoning force from all sides until it was of a size where she could force it back into the cloth that normally contained it.

Next came the hard part.

That same foreign Control magic permeated Heidi’s entire body. She was enslaved by it, locked away in some lonely corner of her mind while she watched the Mantle pursue its own goals. Overpowering magic in the open world was one thing, but finding it and pushing it back into containment when it was already running rampant in a living being? 

Cheri closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

She’d originally been taught to channel the Seven Roads using her eyes as a metric. Their violet hue would shift to match the color of the magic she wielded, but they were normally violet for a reason. Her mother told her that the Rainbow Mage could wield all Seven Roads like they were extensions of himself, but he’d always had a special love for Connection. She wasn’t sure if he’d constructed Agartha due to his love for the Violet Road or if the fixation followed its creation, but the end result was that Glory, and Cheri by extension, were particularly attuned to the color.

Connection was a part of her. Her heart desired it, her mind sought it, her magic built it with the slightest effort. It was the inherited power of the being that had created her mother, whose machinations had resulted in her. But that creature, however mighty, was gone now. The power belonged to her and no one else. No longer would she hold herself back, beholden to a ghost.

She opened her eyes, the orbs flaring with light. Violet in the left, green in the right.

“Orchestra,” she whispered.

Her awareness of the physical entities of the world unfolded, extending out past the borders of the city, now nearly devoid of life. It continued rushing outward, the magic sweeping along the land until she was fairly certain it wouldn’t stop without her insistence. The amount of information was overwhelming. She could have seized every individual leaf of every plant in the jungle, and moved each one in a complicated pattern completely independent of the movements of the others. Control on a level that no telekinetic on the planet could even fathom.

She wondered how much stronger that telekinesis became in her immediate vicinity.

With a gesture, she drew Heidi’s unconscious yet still struggling form closer to herself. As she came nearer, Cheri tightened her focus, withdrawing that miles-wide awareness and placing a single body beneath its lens.

Cheri could feel the magic in Heidi’s body, the natural and unnatural both. It was like oil and water, turbulent in the same space but ultimately incapable of mixing. She just had to draw it out.

“You’re a poison, grandfather,” Cheri said, her voice tight with the strain of her focus. “There is no path into the world for you. Go back.”

Aunt Heidi’s body shook violently as Cheri isolated and removed the foreign energy, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Even if the backlash was painful, even if it removed her from the fight, Heidi would be far better off than if Cheri let the influence take root. If Cheri knew anything about her grandfather, it was that he was capable of great subtlety, insidious in his planning, and patient above all else.

Once she’d finished, Cheri deposited Heidi gently on the ground. She would need time to recuperate. Cheri was sure she could do something to aid her with the recovery, but her attention was needed elsewhere. She jumped in surprise as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but relaxed as she let her attention return to normal levels.

“Is she going to be okay?” Aunt Lily asked. She looked a little worse for wear, but it was a lot better than she’d looked before Cheri had helped her. “None of us have been so far gone before.”

“She’ll be fine,” Cheri said, giving Lily a once-over. The healing she’d rendered had more or less restored her to fighting shape, and whatever she’d missed the girl’s own magic was seeking to fix with enhanced regeneration. Cheri was surprised to see that none of the foreign magic she’d just removed from Heidi was at work in Lily. Admittedly, most of what Lily did was her own magic, but for a body in such a vulnerable state to have no intrusion from a Mantle as potent as the Mantle of Connection…

But sure enough, it was just Lily, through and through. The way she felt hadn’t changed an iota from when her dad had introduced the two of them, four years earlier. 

In the physical realm, Morgan and Julia had traded out with Uncle Casper, who was now dragging Warwick’s unconscious body to the entrance of the ritual chamber. The briefly stolen Mantles had found their way back to their original owners, and Uncle Casper seemed a lot more confident now that he had access to his foresight once again.

Her father and Uncle Igor seemed to have reached a wall when it came to Fulgencio. The old man’s attacks were now too energized to block safely, and even the naked edge of their blades wasn’t enough to penetrate his shining skin. She needed to get out there before Fulgencio tired of showing off.

She turned to her arrayed forces. Augustus and Xander waited on the far side of the room, near where Fulgencio stood in the physical realm. The pair of them knew what they were doing, even in so far as engaging an opponent with dangerously destructive powers. Things like this were standard procedure in the Rainbow Cabals playbook, though it was unlikely they’d ever encountered a foe so deadly. Still, death could only be so certain. After a point, it was all the same.

No, her concern was more with the newly pledged members of her personal guard.

On the side of the room opposite Augustus and Xander, Jay was crouched atop a piece of collapsed stone. He was watching the battle with intense focus, as though he wanted to be absolutely certain he wouldn’t miss his moment despite knowing his part in the plan wasn’t until later. The single-minded attention might have seemed in line with Jay’s normal serious behavior, if Cheri didn’t have such a fresh memory of their first interaction post...Emily.

Marika hovered anxiously nearby. Cheri could feel how much the girl wanted to comfort Jay, but the boy’s closest friend wasn’t sure about how to approach him in the wake of what happened. And it wasn’t just him.

Tyler had a stoic expression on, but he was a lot newer to stifling emotions than Jay or Emily were, and the pain he was suppressing was plainly visible, even without her Connection. He stood close to Cheri, as he’d remained since she’d awakened in the ritual chamber below. Eyes still red from silent weeping, jaw clenched with a resolve that felt more like anger than courage.

All three of them lost in their own way, far from home, missing their leader.

Freshly pacted.

Cheri didn’t even feel the strain. She’d heard her father and some of the other members of the Council complain about the pressures, metaphorical and literal, of pacting a Familiar. They formed a Connection with their master, drawing on their energy to fuel their own burgeoning magical power, until a point where their own reserves were strong enough to stand without aid. It wasn’t an immense strain, so she’d heard, but it was apparently enough to be a nuisance, especially when you needed every bit of your energy for the task at hand. It was part of why most wizards would never even consider taking on more than one Familiar at once.

But here, not even twenty minutes after pacting three Mundanes simultaneously, Cheri didn’t feel burdened. She felt energized. She could sense the Connection between her and the rest of the Tryhard Club, could feel the lifeforce that pulsed in each one of them.

They’d all agreed to stay, each for their own reasons. Tyler stayed to protect her, for love and a desire to prove himself worthy of what Emily had done to keep them all safe. Jay stayed to protect Tyler, for the memory of the girl who had always and never been more than a best friend to him. And Marika stayed for Jay, to make sure that the most important person in her life didn’t follow Emily’s example, something she would never forgive herself for.

They were all Connected to each other, through pain and love both.

“Are you ready, Ty?” Cheri asked softly.

Tyler nodded grimly. Though he immediately fell into a proper, grounded stance, prepared for action, he couldn’t hide the tremble in his hands.

In the physical realm, Morgan and Julia were working their way closer and closer to Ignacius. The latter had stepped up the speed of his assault, the daggers flying faster than Uncle Morgan could swap them, forcing the pair of them to deflect a near constant stream of attacks. Still, the two worked in near concert, showing off how well the young former soldier had done training his own group of operatives. Julia wasn’t exactly masterfully skilled, but she seemed keenly aware of Uncle Morgan’s capacity and range of effect, and used it to shield herself where she could. Cheri supposed that a lifetime of using others to her own benefit had probably rendered Julia some actionable skills.

Ignacius retreated in time with the pair’s advance, but there was only so far he could go. When he felt certain he would run out of room to retreat, the crafty blood priest would open a portal and flee the battlefield. No help would come from Fulgencio, and Ignacius was too self-serving to simply die when he might live to return at a more opportune moment.

Cheri stepped up beside Tyler, wrapping her arms around his neck and setting her cheek against his.

“You can do this,” Cheri murmured. She closed her eyes, revelling in the thrill that even such a small point of contact sent through her. When Tyler remained tense, Cheri called on her magic, drawing both of their emotions together into one circuitous Connection. Their hearts swirled together for the briefest of moments, then their shared feelings returned to each of them, balanced perfectly.

Tyler’s body relaxed as the love and faith that Cheri felt for him battled his doubt, just as Cheri’s heart broke at the wave of pain and guilt that she’d liberated from Tyler.

Ignacius’s courage finally faltered. With Morgan and Julia both within arm’s reach of him, he let out a frustrated snarl and created a portal, large enough for himself to pass through. It opened a mere foot behind him, close enough for the blood priest to simply take a step backward and vanish beyond their reach.

“Do it,” Tyler said, hand fully extended.

Cheri focused her will, then ejected Tyler from the Twilight Realm. Most powers wouldn’t bridge the gap between the two realms, even if they operated on sight, and they needed Tyler out there now.

Just as they’d planned, Tyler’s magic activated as soon as he emerged into the physical world: an Alteration power that changed the properties of the air itself, turning it into a solid force that rejected attempts to separate or move it. It was a versatile, highly responsive barrier magic, but its defensive capabilities were, at that moment at least, outshined by its subtlety. 

Ignacius went to fall back into his portal, but found the way obstructed. An invisible wall, hard as stone, barred the path to Ignacius’s emergency getaway. The blood priest glanced back in surprise, then narrowly ducked a slash from Julia that would have beheaded him. Ignacius turned and kicked Julia hard in the ribs, knocking the girl off her feet with a pained grunt.

Without missing a beat, Ignacius pulled his own knife from beneath his robes and parried Morgan’s thrust before opening another large portal to his left. Tyler blocked him again, but he was expecting it this time. He approached the obstruction with one hand leading the way, and when it found the barrier, he pushed off it in the opposite direction. Tyler’s other hand rose, preparing to continue hemming the blood priest in, but the next portal never came.

Ignacius made as if to parry Morgan’s next swipe, but his knife missed Morgan’s by a fraction of an inch. Instead, he accepted the slash across the chest and hurled his weapon at Tyler. Too fast to dodge, too late for Morgan to get a bead on it to swap.

'I’ll face it all head-on, just like you did.'

A barrier went up in between him and the incoming knife, but this was a pattern that Ignacius had undoubtedly seen hundreds of times. Just before impacting Tyler’s barrier, a pair of portals opened, one just before it and the other a few feet behind Tyler.

Unlike Tyler, Jay didn’t need any prompting. He wasn’t the type to grow less certain the closer it came to his turn to act. As soon as the portals appeared, Jay leapt from the rubble on which he perched, arms drawn up over his head. As he reached the apex of his jump, both of his arms flared with a brilliant light that painted them gold from fingertip to shoulder. Sovereignty magic, the magic of enhancement and invulnerability. 

Cheri ejected him from the Twilight Realm a half second before he smashed both hands, fingers interlocked, through the black, smoky portal. The cluster of Transmission magic burst, shadowy wisps of energy fleeing in all directions as Jay landed lightly. Unbidden, he moved to stand next to Tyler, pausing only to clap a golden hand on the boy’s shoulder as he passed.

'I wish you could have seen that.'

Cheri grit her teeth. It had always frustrated her, how seldom her Connection to the thoughts and emotions of those around her actually felt like a gift. It rarely did more than alienate her, the ill-gotten information only serving to unsettle people who were used to their feelings and secrets staying on the inside. At that moment, it was little more than a dirge.

Ignacius stared at Tyler, and Cheri could see the regret and rage burning in the man’s dark eyes. He recognized Tyler from the glade, and the poetic justice of the boy playing into his downfall undoubtedly burned like acid in his stomach.

'You deserve so much worse,' Cheri thought viciously.

Morgan’s dagger fell, and Ignacius’s hand blurred up to grab it by the blade. Sharpened teeth bared, the blood priest hauled Morgan in close, free hand reaching up to grab the man by the throat. Uncle Morgan struggled briefly, then disappeared. Julia appeared in his place, dagger held in her left hand. Without a moment of hesitation, she swiped it across Ignacius’s throat.

Julia slipped from the man’s grasp as he staggered back, free hand futilely seeking to stifle the flow of his lifeblood. He took a step to the right, the only direction still open to him, and Tyler created a barrier at shin-height. Not enough to stop him, but enough to catch his leading leg, sending the dying man sprawling.

A portal opened beneath him on the floor, but Tyler was paying too close attention for the desperate attempt to amount to anything. Ignacius landed atop another barrier, hand questing outward as the strength left his body. Reaching towards Fulgencio, the man who had commanded his single-minded devotion for more than a century. A man who, even now, didn’t have a single glance to spare his most loyal servant.

Ignacius the Sender died, and no living person would mourn.

The battle was far from over. Cheri’s Knowledge power, her Certainty that arose from the ability to not only see the future, but to know exactly how they were Connected by actions, had led her here. Safer, truer than Uncle Casper’s power, but it shared its largest weakness: Now that they’d arrived at this juncture, where a face-off with Fulgencio was inevitable...It threw the whole timeline into disarray. She could see a future, and know it to be true, but Fulgencio could predict that prediction, and change his plans accordingly. She could foresee that foresight, and on and on until what should have been a straight line looked more like the branches of a massive tree. The theory behind the way Knowledge powers interacted was deeply studied and highly contested, but most schools of thought agreed on one thing:

From here on out, no future sight could be trusted.

“Augustus, are you ready?” Cheri called out.

He nodded, moving into a better position with more cover.

“You’re just running interference, okay? You won’t be able to harm him at this point, so just-”

“I know what to do!” Augustus snapped. “Just send me out!”

Cheri blushed, falling silent. It was a fair reaction. Augustus was trained to do this, even if he might never have been on the field. She imagined that taking orders from a younger, untrained person would be a little rankling.

“You go too, Xalaster,” Aunt Lily said. “Stay out of combat, stick to evacuating wounded or defending the children.”

Xander saluted her sharply, and Cheri couldn’t help but feel a little disgruntled. Was there such a large difference between her and Aunt Lily? Power-wise, Cheri was pretty sure she had the edge, and Xander was older than Lily. She resolved to scowl more, or ask her mother for tips on glowering.

Cheri sent the two boys out into the fight, then turned to Aunt Lily.

“How about you?” she asked, jerking her head towards Fulgencio. “Ready for another shot?”

“In a moment,” Lily answered, looking over Cheri’s shoulder. “One more to deal with.”

Cheri bit back a sigh as she heard the last of the Tryhard Club approach her from where she’d been waiting quietly near the back of the room.

“You never gave me a job,” Marika said.

It was just the three of them left in the Twilight Realm, not counting the unconscious Heidi. Cheri glanced at her, though she worried the ground with the toe of one shoe. Now that they were past the point of Certainty, she wanted to get to the battlefield as quickly as possible, but one look at the expression on Marika’s face told her that she’d be delayed another few moments yet.

Jay and Tyler were grieving, and they each had their own type of guilt that they were working through. Marika, on the other hand...Cheri didn’t feel any sadness through her Connection. There was no small amount of concern, mostly for Jay, but the rest…

“Mari,” Cheri began, “your magic lets you channel your emotion into your surroundings, and I can tell through my Connection that it’s not a small effect.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason I should get out there?” Marika countered. “I’m feeling pretty fucking emotional right now.”

Aunt Lily snorted. “Yeah, but which emotion?”

“Anger,” Marika answered.

“No dice. You can’t lie to either of us on this. Try again.”

Marika narrowed her eyes at the pair of them, silently choosing her words.

“Fear.”

“That would be reasonable, but wrong again.”

“...Sadness?” Marika asked.

Cheri shook her head, and Aunt Lily gave the girl a so-so hand wiggle.

Marika’s shoulders shook for a moment, then slumped. Cheri could see the fight run out of the girl like water as she faced the emotion she was truly feeling, and the ugly implications that came with it.

“You feel ashamed,” Lily said.

“Yes.” Marika’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Because,” Lily continued, “when you saw Emily fall, you didn’t feel sadness or anger. You felt relief.”

Marika nodded, expression pained.

Cheri’s heart went out to the girl, even as her impatience mounted. Having been exposed to the Tryhard Club’s emotional network for the better part of two months, she was no stranger to the romantic tension between Marika and Jay, or the similar tension between Jay and Emily. As a result, the relationship between Emily and Mari was usually one of begrudging respect with the occasional butting of heads.

It struck Cheri that the reason Marika’s initial reaction to Emily’s death was eating at her so much was probably more to do with the emotions she didn’t want to face. Marika had loved Emily, in as real a way as the girl could manage when Jay was so central in her life.

“Can you feel what you’re doing right now?” Cheri asked gently. “You should have some impression of what effect your magic is causing.”

“Feels hot,” Marika mumbled, head still hanging.

Cheri exchanged glances with Lily.

“All you,” Lily said, arms crossing.

Cheri shot her a glare, but approached Mari all the same. The heat of Marika’s aura was obvious from ten feet away, but here, at arm’s reach, it was dangerously hot. Prolonged exposure would burn her, there was no doubt. The tattered edges of her shirt, where the chains had torn through her earlier, were already starting to emit little wisps of smoke.

It wouldn’t be enough to get through to her. Cheri knew that. Marika couldn’t just be told; she had to see what would happen. 

Cheri stopped face-to-face with the other girl, and despite the knowledge that it was coming, despite the comfort of her relative invulnerability, she couldn’t contain the whimper of pain that sprang to her lips as her body started to burn.

“The power of the magic corresponds to the strength of the emotion that birthed it,” Cheri said, voice tight. “You might learn to control it one day, but as of right now…”

She did her best to put a gentle smile on her face, even as her flesh began to crack and blister. Marika stumbled backwards, trying to put more distance between herself and the burning girl, but Cheri kept pace.

“I know you want to help,” she continued, her breath coming in short gasps now. “But is this...what you want?”

The clothing at Cheri’s sleeves and shoulders burst into flames, and Marika screamed. Cheri halted her advance as Marika turned and fled to the rear of the chamber.

She let out a shuddering breath, calling on the Green to sooth her flesh and restore what Marika’s shame had burned. An arm encircled her from behind as Aunt Lily drew her into a rare embrace.

'That couldn’t have been easy.' Lily communicated through the Mantle.

'It wasn’t,' Cheri responded on her own wavelength, 'but it was necessary.'

'You’d break her heart, play the villain to keep her safe,' Lily thought, and Cheri caught a hint of sad irony in the Connection. 'And people think you only take after your mother.'

The words hurt, but she was right. This was exactly what her father had done, what she’d almost come to hate him for. This sort of twisted, selfish love was what created this entire mess in the first place. Did that mean that she’d been wrong all along? Or was she just wrong now?

Lily grabbed her by both shoulders and whirled her around until they were face-to-face. Cheri thought she was going to say something, but instead the girl leaned forward and drove her forehead into Cheri’s, hard enough to send her reeling.

“Yeah,” Lily said placidly, “that look is straight off Will’s face. You’re overthinking it.”

Cheri rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand as Lily clapped a hand over mouth, stifling her complaint.

“Go. Finish this,” Lily said. “I’ll deal with the girl.”

Cheri tried not to let her uncertainty show on her face, but it was as useless trying to conceal the emotion from Lily as it was for most people to try to conceal it from her.

“We’re more alike than you’d think,” Lily said drily. “Now go. I’ll look after your idiot friend if you look after mine.”

Lily’s off-color reference to her father snapped Cheri back into the larger situation. Why was it so hard for her to remember more than one important thing at a time?

Thankfully, the battle in the physical world was going much as she imagined it would. Her father and his companions had defeated her grandfather without the power offered by the Mantles, and Ignacius was still a good deal weaker than the Rainbow Mage had been. Powerful, to be sure, and someone of any strength wielding all seven Roads would be formidable, but he didn’t have the amount of practice in fighting a team of coordinated warriors that his opponents had in god-slaying.

Her father and Uncle Igor kept him hemmed in, their blows still just strong enough to move him, though they clearly weren’t inflicting any damage. Even the solid hits that Igor landed with his greatsword simply chipped the massive piece of metal. Still, as the only members present who could take a blow from Fulgencio, they served their purpose. In the spaces between their constant assault, Uncle Casper and Uncle Morgan flitted around, nudging the retaliatory strikes off-target and retreating before they could be struck, the former with his precognition and the second with his ability to cross the boundary.

Tyler stood nearby, too close for Cheri’s liking, though she knew that it didn’t really matter where he stood in terms of the opponent they faced. Just as Casper and Morgan attempted to impede his movements in the weak period before they gained momentum, Tyler was constantly at work, weaving his invisible barriers around Fulgencio’s limbs and body. Jay stood in front of him, arms still golden, vigil constant. 

In the background, Augustus stood atop a piece of rubble, similar to how Jay had observed the battle moments before. He would periodically send off a fireball, intended to distract, not harm. Fulgencio hadn’t spent enough time in his invincible form to forget the reflexes of his mortal life, and when a glowing orb of fire crashes into your face and eyes, you flinch. This meant that he was relying on Knowledge to stay aware of the fight around him, and that was a weakness of a sort.

But was it enough of a weakness? Cheri doubted it. No, this would come down to a battle of sheer power.

She inhaled deeply, and released a trembling breath.

'Steady, Cheri,' she thought.

Her arrival rippled through the ritual chamber. Every head turned to her for at least a brief period, though only Tyler, her father, and Fulgencio let their gazes linger.

“Finally,” Fulgencio said with a wry smile. “It’s so difficult to measure my new power against such a feeble array of opponents. Will you satisfy, Rainbow Granddaughter?”

“This ends here,” Cheri said quietly, though her voice carried through the chamber.

“No, no, no, my dear,” Fulgencio replied, laughing. “I can’t let this end just yet. You and the Prism Council are all that remains of the Rainbow Mage’s legacy. I have to crush you thoroughly, I have to-”

“Shut up,” Cheri growled, anger and magic thrumming in her chest. “I’m so sick of you and all the people like you. So sick of you trampling on what I love. This. Is. Over.”

The humor slid off of Fulgencio’s face like water.

“Very well,” he said, raising a hand.

A glimmer of light at Fulgencio’s fingertips became an orb, swelling rapidly. Jay put his arms up in front of his face as Tyler took cover behind his back, Xander stepped in front of Julia and Augustus, the Council hid behind their resilient members…

It wouldn’t be enough.

The power behind Fulgencio's attack was too potent, too pure, and it wasn’t an explosion, necessarily. It would swell until it eclipsed the entire chamber, the energy burning around and through every object, every scrap of cover. 

She closed her eyes as blinding white light engulfed her.

Cheri could feel the energy burning, but it was more of an awareness of the state than it was any registering of actual pain. The attack was potent, but it wasn’t enough to overcome her Sovereignty.

The light faded, and Cheri tried -and failed- to hold back a smile at the perplexed expression on Fulgencio’s face. Some of her companion’s positions had changed, crouching low or moving for other cover, but none of them were harmed. Her father was staring at her, a matching grin on his own face.

“I must say,” Fulgencio began, “I hadn’t expected to harm you with an attack of that magnitude, but...this level of Sovereignty shouldn’t exist in these humans.”

He was right, to a degree. Sovereignty was inherently a selfish magic, and was one of the rarest to be found in a form where it could be granted to others. It was about elevation of the self, domination in the truest sense. The magic of kings and emperors.

“It is...unseemly of a monarch,” Fulgencio went on, “to share their Sovereignty with so many others. The magic should resist the very notion.”

“I’m not sharing it,” Cheri said. The magic of Sovereignty burned in her right eye, Connection in the left. The Red and the Violet. “The right to rule is mine, and everything that exists is under the protection of my Sovereignty. This pitiful kingdom of exiles, these lonely stones, these weary warriors...everything is within my Demesnes. You and your usurped magic don’t have the authority to harm them.”

Fulgencio’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. With a snarl, he swept both hands toward her, and a wave of dust and loose stone flooded through the air.

Orchestra.

The tide of debris reversed direction in an instant, flowing around Fulgencio and sealing him in a spherical coffin of stone. Cheri cast him out into the air over the city, flinging him so far that he almost immediately vanished from sight.

“That won’t keep him long,” Cheri said, panting slightly. The magic was there, at her fingertips, but the act of dredging it from the depths was taxing. “I need to end this soon, and I can’t do that and protect all of you at the same time.”

Tyler opened his mouth to protest, but Jay clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s right, Ty. We need to go.”

Tyler clenched his fists, frustration written all over his face.

“You’d better win,” he said eventually, turning away with a tremble in his voice.

Cheri floated to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and embracing him tightly. She’d have preferred to hug him in a way that he could return it, but he didn’t want her to see the tears on his face, and she would respect that.

“I swear I will,” she said simply.

Morgan began to shift the fighters back to the Twilight Realm, starting with the Tryhard Club and the initiates. Her father approached her.

Cheri met his eyes, and she felt a surge of emotion at what she saw there. Pride, fear, worry, anger...It was a storm of feeling that embodied the most powerful emotion that existed, that purest Connection. Love was a bond that the Rainbow Mage had never learned, that Fulgencio had long since discarded, and it was ultimately why they were both vulnerable. They didn’t have access to the power that bound the Prism Council together. They couldn’t imagine the force that moved Cheri to act, that had finally given her the courage to find her own strength.

Cheri felt the things at the surface of her father’s mind, the words he wanted to say.

Be careful.

I don’t want you to do this.

If anything happens to you, I’d never forgive myself.

He opened his mouth, and Cheri considered stopping him. She didn’t want to hear those words, she didn’t want to have her father’s fear in her mind when Fulgencio returned to the fight. But after all they’d been through, he deserved a chance to speak.

“His protection magic is strong,” he said gruffly, “but you should be able to overcome it. Remember that it’s easier to get through that sort of invulnerability if the attack has a strong focus. Area attacks diffuse their strength too much.”

Tears started to Cheri’s eyes.

“He might try to go for the foresight advantage, but as long as you’re ready with yours you should be able to counter it. Stay ready to fly, okay? With the level of Control you’re both working with, there really isn’t any solid ground that you can trust. And I know it can be tempting to lean on regeneration, but don’t-”

Cheri flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. He held her tightly as she sobbed, even as she knew that the others were watching from one realm or another.

“I’m scared,” she said miserably.

Her father stroked her head with one hand, in a manner that was somehow a thousand times more soothing than any brush.

“So was I,” he whispered.

Cheri swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and pushed herself out of her father’s grip.

“Thanks, dad,” she said. “For everything.”

“I love you, little rainbow,” he replied, and then he vanished.

Morgan left without a word, which Cheri appreciated. She loved her Uncle as surely as she loved the rest of her enormous family, but a word from him might have spoiled that last moment, deprived her of the fierce love and burning pride that filled her with warmth.

She felt Fulgencio’s approach through her Connection, and she steeled herself for the conflict. The Seven Roads were all the different ways that raw magic could be given form, and corresponded to all the different aspects of existence, but that didn’t mean that raw magic had to be given form.

Fulgencio flew back in from the hole where she’d ejected him, a scream on his lips and murder in his eyes.

Cheri reached deep, calling magic from Agartha until she felt like she couldn’t hold anymore. It wanted form, sought instruction.

'I ask only that you be what you are,' Cheri thought, 'and that you shine.'

Cheri stretched out one arm, palm leveled at Fulgencio’s approach. When she released the magic, the entire world bathed in rainbow light.