Fiona Ponders

Fiona quietly looked back at the door of a long hallway—her only escape from an undesired task if she was going to make a break for it, but doing so would be going back to old ways. Advisor Tempest wanted to do the annual inspection of the royal vault, where many Needaimus and other valuable weapons were stored. It was required that someone of royalty had to come to open the door, and usually, the kids were more available than the queen. At least, that’s what the milt alabaster man told the princess when he found her wandering through the hallways. Fiona wanted to do anything else, but Donn and Hermina were tied up visiting the new Hobusian King, Avon, and she was the oldest one available.

She didn’t mind doing the task so much, but the advisor was an odd one. He smiled at Fiona in a nice enough way, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was—to put it bluntly—a bit of a creep. His gaze seemed a little too odd, almost as if it were filled with a mix of sorrow and hate. The blue princess wondered whether she was getting an accurate read on him or whether her years of shirking responsibilities were rearing their ugly head once again. She was uncertain that she wasn’t simply looking for an excuse to run away before she could mess something up.

It never ceased to amaze her how often she would slip up, even as she tried hard to do well. It was starting to get to her. Even weeks later, people were still talking about her dumping alcohol on a whole table at the banquet—the story had stretched beyond what she had thought possible.

Shaking her head and turning to Advisor Tempest, she spoke gently.

“How do these inspections usually go?”

He kept his hands close to his body, pressed near his chest where he firmly held a tablet, and would occasionally look around the room like a bug was flying in circles, but snapped his head in her direction and made his creepy smile.

“Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t know. Well, it doesn’t take too long; I will look around. Check that our records in the system match what is physically there and mark them as okay. We don't have to check every drawer as long as a certain number is alright.”

“Is this necessary?” She wasn’t going to remind him, but only members of the royal family could open the door.

“For security, not so much. As you are thinking, only royals can enter. But royals tend to take things and not put them back, and bookkeeping must be kept up to date!”

Fiona wasn’t sure if Advisor Tempest was unusually enthused, but he seemed excited to do this odd job. She shrugged as they reached the vault door.

At the end of the hallway, it looked like nothing more than a solid wall with carved patterns, but Fiona knew better. She pressed her hand to the wall, and it groaned as the mechanical systems fired up. Soon, the barrier slid away. Her yellow Needaimus jumped off her shoulder and sat just outside the door as the duo entered a large spherical room. A series of lines divided the shape from the floor to the top, and upon closer inspection, it was clear each was a drawer. In the center of the room was a pedestal with birdcage-shaped glass. Inside sat a golden shape curled into a ball.

Advisor Tempest wordlessly went to work opening some drawers and checking off items on his tablet. Fiona quietly crept up to the center pedestal. The golden shape didn’t move, and she carefully laid a blue hand on the glass before sharply pulling it away. The glass was unexpectedly hot, and she checked her light blue skin for a burn. The last thing the blue princess needed was another mark on it.

Legends said only a Nonpareil could wield the golden Needaimus. The heat coming from it was enough to suggest that was the case. She recalled her late father boasting about touching the creature directly, but Fiona was now sure it was just that—a boast. She shook her head and tried to turn her attention back to Advisor Tempest, who was now on a ladder checking one of the drawers far above their heads.

If Gwyn had the golden Needaimus, would he be willing to come out of the room?

The thought entered Fiona’s mind before she could put up a guard against it. Her old ways instantly came up with several options to smuggle the cage out—leaving a wake of destruction behind in some ideas and silently in others. The blue princess was familiar with many methods; she had done all sorts of schemes over her years of pranking. It only served as unwanted thoughts now...

"That should be all, everything here and accounted for,” Advisor Tempest said as he appeared by Fiona’s side. She jumped slightly. “My apologies, dear; I didn’t realize you were so deep in thought.”

“It’s alright. Let’s get going then; I am very busy today!” Fiona quickly shuffled out of the room and only stayed behind long enough to seal the vault shut. She waved goodbye and bonded to her Needaimus, Sun. In a flash of light, she left the advisor behind and—quickly traversing with a series of blinks through the hallways—was out to a private balcony, where they had encountered Dia Mond during the conference.

Fiona slid her fingers across the deformed railing that Gwyn had liquified back then and stared at the ironically named Lover’s Bridge. A couple stood down below, apparently in a fight if the movements of their small bodies were any indication.

Are you going to stare at the city all day? Sun asked from within Fiona’s head.

“I’m just not sure what it is I am doing.”

You are standing and watching a distant couple break up.

“Not that!” Fiona sighed. “It seems all I am good for is opening doors. Everyone is still talking about what happened at the banquet, and if not that, then it’s something else. It’s been weeks since we’ve returned, and I think everyone looks at me worse than before!”

Did you decide to be more responsible as a princess so people would look at you differently?

“I kind of hoped they would!”

Then, your motivation is shallow.

“It seems the only thing I was good at was doing pranks.”

You weren’t very good at that either.

“You aren’t very helpful, you know.”

I’m a Needaimus, not a therapist. We don’t really know about these sorts of matters….

“I should have known to never come to you for advice.” Fiona crossed her arms and turned her head away from the arm bonded to Sun.”

I think you were venting, and besides, you never took my advice anyway.

“Maybe I should try one prank, for old time's sake!”

That would be a bad idea.

“What do you know!”

See my previous point about not taking my advice….

Fiona turned away from the balcony and slid back into the hallway through the window. She pondered what she could try when Sun interrupted her thoughts again.

You are getting a message from Rheba.

“Oh, that’s unexpected!” Fiona muttered as the words popped up in her field of vision. She slid her hand in the air to scroll the message, but Rheba kept it short.

I apologize for the last-minute notice, but some new recruits and I have been sent to Quenth. I just arrived at the dock.

“Rheba!” Fiona cried. “That is super last minute!” She shook her head and zapped outside the castle. Looking at a building in the city, she teleported across the skyline, then focusing on the next targets, she blipped through Quenth toward the dock.