One moment she'd been walking behind Tigris. The next, she was flat on her back in a large, empty cavernous space.

"Ala,"

That voice. It sounded like her inkblood. Roche sat up, a jolt of pain running through her muscles. She groaned, bracing herself against the sconce covered walls. The room was completely empty. There wasn't a door in sight.

The walls felt like they were closing in on her.

"Hello?" she whispered, panic crawling up her throat. No one replied. Not even her inkblood. Sweat began to pool on her forehead. She was still drained from the fight with Ismere outside, she didn't have much energy left.

"Fyra." she croaked anyway, crying out as the ensuing wave of pain brought her to her knees. The sconces on the walls pulsed a pale blue, shining brighter for just a moment before returning to nothing. Roche flopped onto her back, letting the cool stone ease the aches and pains coursing through her body.

"Do not overexert yourself, Ala. You must rest."

Roche closed her eyes. "If you're going to kill me, can you do it fast?" She had nothing left in her to fight.

The voice laughed melodically. "I am not here to kill you. I am here to help."

Roche blinked, and suddenly there was a pale, ghostly translucent face hovering over her.

Roche screamed, scrambling backwards like a crab. "GHOST!"

"I am not- well, I suppose I am."

Roche shrieked louder.

"Stop that!" the ghost lady shouted, "Please. My name is Finna. I was a librarian. I am here to serve you, Ala."

The name cut through Roche's panic like a knife. She narrowed her eyes at the ghost lady, Finna. "How do you know that name?"

Finna smiled sadly. "Everyone who worked at the Library of Eolna knew of the Ala."

"The Library of Eolna?" Roche repeated, feeling dizzy, "Was that what this place was? A library?"

"Once, yes. Before it burned. Now inkblood comes here to rest. For every bit of it burned, it waits here. You can feel it, can you not?"

She did. She felt inkblood thrumming beneath the surface of the stones, beating in the grounds like a second heart, undulating like a sea. She was too drained to call upon it, but she could feel it soaking up through her feet, restoring her energy.

"Are you... dead?" she whispered. Finna nodded, but didn't seem too sad about it.

"Me and my fellow librarian sisters died in the burning of this library. Romulus thought us to be users of inkblood. We were not, but we remain here to guard this sanctuary." Finna explained. Roche sat up slowly, propping herself against the wall weakly.

"Aren't you supposed to guard this place from evil?" she asked. Finna shook her head.

"We protect these grounds. We protect the inkblood that stirs here." Finna tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Evil or not. Inkblood simply exists. We guard it."

"Well... there's an object infused with inkblood that a group and I must retrieve." Roche looked around, "Where are they, anyways?"

"Safe. Facing a test."

Roche furrowed her brows. "A test?"

"They wish to take an object that was left here for protection." Finna tilted her head, eyes dimming as she watched Roche, "To remove such an object requires a pure heart. It requires the promise that the object will be used with good intentions."

"Well... that object was not left here with good intentions. Surely it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to remove it." Roche huffed. Finna shrugged.

"We do not make the rules, Ala. These were the conditions of our duties as guardians of this sacred place. We must endure."

Roche felt anger begin to fester within her. She'd killed someone to get here, and now they couldn't even get the object they needed? "Well, that object has killed hundreds, and will kill hundreds more if allowed to continue! The people who left it here only mean harm. That violates the sacredness of inkblood! If your rules stand in the way of ending such a plague... then perhaps your rules aren't the best."

Finna's light seemed to dim. Her angelic brows furrowed, her eyes shifting from a blue to a deep plum shade. "Have care how you speak, Ala," Finna said, her voice dangerously soft, "These rules have allowed us to protect inkbloods such as yourself from the pyre."

Roche bit her lip. "I can understand that. But surely you would not want to see hundreds dead because of a rule."

"There is a way around it. Pass the test." Finna insisted. Roche stiffened.

"Have my companions passed it yet?" she asked. Finna shook her head.

"They are facing it now. They will continue facing it until they pass or someone rouses them."

"Can I rouse them?" Roche pressed. Finna smiled faintly, her eyes shifting back to their crystalline blue.

"You may only leave this chamber if you pass."

"Unbelievable," Roche grumbled kicking the ground, "So if I say no to the test, then I'm stuck here forever?"

"Yes," Finna replied with a small smile, "If someone with ill intentions found this place and refused the test, we can't have them leaving and blabbing about it, now can we?"

Roche scowled. "Fine. Give me the stupid test. But for the record, I think your rules need a rewrite."

"It is not so simple, Ala." the woman floated closer, her bare ghost feet skimming the stone floor, "No rule is absolute. No rule is perfect. That is why a good leader leads nations, to ensure that a rule can be applied to the benefit of all, even when it is imperfect."

Roche furrowed her brows. Finna was beginning to sound like Circe. "You're not just talking about the rules that bind you here, are you?"

"No," Finna agreed, "I'm not. And you will see that with the test."

Before Roche could react, Finna pressed a finger to Roche's forehead, and the world went black.

-------

Her mind was fuzzy, her thoughts a faint buzzing in her mind. She couldn't remember much, save for a ghostly face staring over her and freakishly cold fingers pressed soothingly against her brow.

Roche groaned, prying her eyes open. She had no idea where she was. All she could tell was that she was outside and that the air was filled with smoke. Roche hacked, her lungs burning.

A fire.

There was a fire burning.

Roche sat up, her heart sinking in her chest as she finally recognized where she was. She was on the beaches beside the castle. The skies were grey with smoke and thunderclouds. The ocean roared, waves rearing against the coast where a huge fire burned.

The beach was silent, save for the roar of the flames. Roche expected a crowd from the castle to come running, but it was just her.

She rose to her feet shakily. There was something in the fire, something making the flames jump and twist, like puppets on a string. She crept closer, her breath catching in her throat. There, in the center of the flames, was a dark object. It was rounded, almost like an egg, with molten gold cracks glowing across the reflective obsidian surface.

She took one step closer and her inkblood pulsed, throwing her off kilter. She felt an inkblood enchantment rolling off in giant, sickly waves from the object. It was powerful and pungent, like giant sulphurous plumes wafting off the surface of a bog. She gagged, the sensation sending her to her knees. She barely registers the granules of sand that fly at the impact.

All she knew was that the object there was something terrible. And the flames were only fueling it.

"Roche!"

She barely managed to turn her head, nausea roiling in her stomach. Tigris was standing far away, pressed against the castle walls. Roche realised why no one was on the beach.

"Get away from there!" Tigris continued to shout, "You'll get the plague!"

Roche felt it then. An ache at the base of her spine. Her toes began to tingle first. Then burn. Fire licked up her legs, her inkblood surging against it. But it was no use. The strange object seemed to absorb her inkblood like a sponge, sending out stronger waves of illness. In her misery, Roche felt the object of power strengthen with her inkblood, sending waves of the illness crawling towards where the princess remained hidden.

"ROCHE!" Tigris roared, "Get over here now!"

The enchantment was creeping across the beach, turning pale sand to black cinders. Roche raised her head, blearily watching the curse approach the princess.

Thunder boomed overhead.

The burning had consumed her. Roche opened her mouth to scream, but Tigris did instead. Her eyes were trained on the blackening sand approaching her.

Roche felt her inkblood draining with her life force, fueling the object. She saw Tigris' face drain of colour. Still, the princess didn't move from her spot.

It felt like a story. It felt like she was reading a book, flipping a page, standing afar as the characters were broken down again and again before getting back up.

But this was no story.

Tigris would not rise if she was battered by that wave of darkness.

The wave that was fueled by Roche's inkblood.

Tigris remained staunchly in her place, not fleeing. She held her arms out towards Roche, as if that could save her.

"Come on!" the princess pleaded, her voice raw with desperation. A realisation struck Roche like a wave. If she wasn't so ill she would have laughed. Tigris was waiting for her. Tigris was risking her life for her. And it wasn't a surprise. Tigris had a good heart.

Roche wouldn't be the one to let her get killed.

"I'm sorry," she rasped, "It's my job to protect you."

"What are you talking about?" Tigris snapped, "Get over here before you get sick."

"It's too late for me," Roche wetted her dry lips, "But not for you."

"What-"

Roche summoned her inkblood as she crawled towards the flames. It was a pyre, the one she'd feared for so long. But now, she embraced it.

Because she was going to save Tigris.

Roche crept into the flames, feeling their caress of agony like a lover's lips skating across her skin. Her skin began to bubble with bursting blisters, dribbling white and yellow pus. Then the fire burrowed deeper, lighting up her nerves. Her flesh sloughed off with meaty slaps.

She screamed and writhed as the flames licked up her body. With the last vestige of her self control, she reached towards the molten egg.

Her inkblood flowed out of her in a tidal wave, shaped by her last command. The egg shaped object absorbed it, glowing with the force of Roche's power.

Tigris' cry haunted her ears.

The object of power exploded in a flurry of ashes. Roche only had a single moment to blow out a breath before the shockwave threw her into the inky ocean with a deafening splash. Water filled her lungs, cutting off her air like a candle gone dark.

Roche sank into unconsciousness with a smile upon her dying lips.

-------

"Wake, Ala."

Roche groaned, light stinging her eyes like blades. A ghostly hand pressed against her face, coolness easing the pounding behind her temples. Roche sighed in relief, cracking her eyes open.

Finna hovered above her, a small smile tucked into the planes of her ethereal face.

"You have passed the test."

Roche growled, sitting upright. The world spun. "That... was awful! Why would you make anyone do that?"

"You're asking for an object with the power to kill thousands. Did you really think it would be easy?" Finna asked with an amused smile. Roche scowled.

"So you made me face my own death?" she asked, "That doesn't seem even a little cruel?"

"Unfortunately, the test you face is determined by you and your struggles. To ensure your pure heartedness, I had to verify your convictions and identify which future you will try to bring: harmony or doom." Finna explained, floating higher and higher with each word, like a balloon lost in the wind. The sconces pulsed an ice blue. Roche furrowed her brow.

"Harmony or doom," she repeated, "Like balance and chaos."

"Precisely. And now I, and the rest of my librarian sisters, know what you fight for."

"Harmony... right?" Roche asked. Finna smiled softly.

"Yes, Ala. Harmony. Be warned, it will not be an easy path. There are many ways you can and will fail. Do not stray from your path. Balance must come to these lands."

Right, no pressure. Roche swallowed. "Can I have the object of power? And my companions?"

"Of course." Finna floated back down. She pressed her ghostly palms against the floor. The ground began to tremble. Roche yelped, scrambling to her feet. In front of her, the wall split in two, sending a shower of stones and rocks falling on her head.

Finna leaned back, and the shaking stopped. "Your friends and the object of power are through there. Be careful. And know that inkblood stands behind you."

"Thank you?" she muttered. Finna nodded, bowing.

"It was an honour to meet you, Ala."

Roche turned to confront her about the name, but Finna had disappeared. Roche steeled herself and walked through the passageway into the wide room where three bodies waited, all unconscious and laying on the ground like a crypt.

A/N:

Finna: This is a dangerous, explosive object that should not fall into the wrong hands.

Roche: Ya, ok, but can you make it a bit easier for everyone and gimme it?