Vigor Mortis

Chapter 165: Better Than Ever

“So there I am, trying to fight this giant, four-armed monster with nothing but a pointy stick while my teammate figures out how to give it an ulcer or whatever,” I ramble, stuffing more delicious food into my mouth. Athanatos can eat and talk at the same time without issue and it’s awesome.

“You said this thing was twice your size?” Tala gapes disbelievingly, her mandibles loose and slightly hanging.

“At least,” I confirm.

“There’s no way you beat that thing with nothing but a spear,” she insists. “A War Queen couldn’t do that without magic, let alone a squishy s—I mean, human.”

“Well you’re absolutely right,” I confirm, ignoring her slip-up. “I got my ass whooped. It backhanded me ten feet through the air, shattered my arm, and nearly squashed my skull into paste. And keep in mind at this point I had no idea about the whole Lich thing, I thought I was gonna die for real.”

“So is that when Princess Penelope saved you?” Tala asks, eyes shining.

“She’s not… that’s not how Valkan nobility works, Tala,” I sigh.

“She is an immortal ruler of men!” my sister argues. “That is everything she needs to be Athanatos!”

“I… don’t think she’s immortal, even after all her changes,” I muse. “She’s certainly going to be, because she’s a genius, but even if she figured out purely biological immortality I doubt she’s worked out the kinks yet. I’ve never heard her talk about information storage density or genetics or… any of the steps, really.”

“Well maybe she didn’t talk to you about it because you used to be too dumb to understand it,” Tala smirks. “You haven’t exactly been describing yourself as the most efficient glyph in the ward.”

“Hey, I wasn’t stupid,” I protest. “Just… ignorant. And incapable of reading social cues for some reason.”

“No wonder you and my sister get along,” Tala chuckles. “Okay, so not-Princess Penelope saves you how?”

“She doesn’t!” I answer. “The Clear One does! Penta jumps out of my body and possesses the monster.”

“What!?” Tala yelps. “A clear one could die doing that!”

“I know! But she knew she was going to die anyway if I died, so she possessed it.”

“But that just delays the inevitable,” Tala notes.

I grin with my eyes.

“Not if she then proceeds to bite her own limbs off.”

My sister’s mandibles fall open in shock.

“You’re kidding me,” Tala gapes. “That’s completely insane.”

“Of course she was insane!” I laugh. “The Clear One gained personhood from my and Penelope’s memories! But it was also the optimal move. Better to live traumatized than die, right? So the monster bleeds out on the ground and I get to munch on its soul while Penelope heals me back into working condition.”

“Wow,” Tala breathes. “That’s… horrifying.”

“Oh man, so much of my life was horrifying. You have no idea.”

“There’s a hostile Clear One colony forming inside your country’s borders and you’re harboring a traitor to that colony inside your own body. How does it possibly get worse from here?”

“Tala, I survived two Witnessings.”

Tala’s spiked tongue drops down from her mouth.

“Bullshit.”

“I actually caused one of them!”

“Bullshit!” she declares. “You’re having me on! How would you… why would you…?”

“Well it wasn’t on purpose,” I protest. “The One Below All just isn’t a big fan of family, is all. Although the second one was caused on purpose. By a human, I mean, not by me. I tried to stop him, but he threw drugs at my face until I started hallucinating about frogs.”

“Explain,” Tala demands. “Now.”

“Hold on, hold on! We’re getting ahead of ourselves!” I laugh. “I haven’t even talked about how I met Galdra the Annihilator yet.”

“That’s the savage that defends the walled city with an innate ionization ability, yes?” Tala clarifies.

“The human,” I correct her. “And Galdra doesn’t have an innate ability, which humans call ‘talents.’ She casts spells the hard way, just like us.”

“The human with the ionization ability, sorry,” Tala sighs. “Are you serious about it not being innate, though? You’re telling me a savage is that good without understanding the art?”

“Human,” I insist again. “And would I lie to you?”

She huffs out a breath of air, taking a moment to savor a bit of her meal. She ordered some kind of bug-grub dish with the intestines of a larva removed and replaced with sweet vegetables. It smells wonderful, although I’m quite fond of what she ordered for me as well: a platter of nearly a dozen individually-cooked meats, fruits, eggs, grains, and condiments designed to be mixed and matched differently with each bite to maximize variety. It’s a very strange meal to me, since Vita would have just gobbled it down all at once without caring about flavor, but I vaguely remember why I loved it so much as Malrosa and try to imitate that. It’s… very interesting. I’m not used to caring about flavor, really, since that was always a luxury. Now I feel like I’m getting a full-course introduction into the idea that ‘how things taste’ is a lot more beautiful and complicated than I ever let myself give it credit for.

“…Malrosa wouldn’t lie to me,” Tala sighs. “And you’re still Malrosa. So yeah, I believe you. It’s just a lot to take in, you know? I can’t deny we underestimated the s… the humans, though. I mean, that’s why you’re in this mess.”

“It’s not all bad,” I say quietly. “I like the perspective. I get to enjoy things for the first time again. And… yeah, our culture totally downplays how much like us humans are. Probably so we don’t feel as bad for how many of them that we kill.”

“Should we feel bad?” Tala presses. “You’re not exactly challenging the idea that they’re aggressive, illogical, warmongering brutes, you’re just demonstrating that they’re good at it.”

“Uh… I mean, yeah, humans are all those things,” I agree. “But also, we’re the ones that went after them to take their land and slaughter them by the millions. So… doesn’t that make us worse?”

Tala squints at me for a bit.

“…I think you’re wrong,” she eventually declares. “And if you give me a bit I’m sure I’ll figure out a reason why you’re wrong.”

I laugh.

“Sure, sure, take your time. I can go back to talking about how things went with Penta, if you want?”

“Actually, on the subject of Clear Ones, what are you gonna tell Bahregar?” Tala asks.

“Uh… I mean actually telling them everything seems like an unnecessary pain, so I’ll probably just let them take the memories for themselves,” I admit, scratching my neck sheepishly.

Tala snorts, her eyes glittering with amusement.

“Geez, you’re such a deviant, Mal-Mal,” she teases. “You do know it’s super obvious when they’re walking around as you, right?”

“I’m not… I mean, it’s not gonna be like that anymore,” I mutter, looking away with embarrassment. “I already told them that. I just don’t mind them taking the memories, is all. It’s more convenient.”

“Huh,” Tala muses. “I, uh… I’m not gonna lie, sis, your ‘loss of bodily autonomy’ fetish has always freaked me out a little, but I’m not sure how to feel about the realization that it’s no longer a thing. It’s comforting to see the ways you’re still you, but it’s spooky to see all the ways you kind of aren’t.”

“You are not one to judge about sexual preferences, Tala,” I grumble at her.

“Woah, woah, I’m not judging, no one is judging!” Tala insists hastily, holding up her palms in surrender. It’s funny how that gesture exists in both cultures. “W-we don’t have to talk about me, this is about you. So even though Vita also got possessed on a semi-regular basis, you’re no longer into it. Great! So… what are you into now?”

“Uh… nothing, I guess?”

“Nothing?” she asks, shoveling another bite of food into her mouth. “How does that work?”

“I don’t like or want to have sex,” I mutter uncomfortably.

“…Even though you still have memories of having it and enjoying it,” my sister clarifies.

“Uh, yep, pretty much,” I admit. “It’s something I have strong feelings about, so—”

I cut myself off, suppressing a shudder. It’s something Vita has strong feelings about, so it automatically overrides however Malrosa felt. The Lich is stronger. I won’t make it out of this as even as I wish I could be.

“…Yeah,” I finish lamely.

“Well, uh, that sucks,” Tala says bluntly. “It’s certainly gonna be uncomfortable for you in five years.”

“Eh, I’m a Lich now,” I shrug. “I have a lot more options for immortality than giving birth to myself.”

“…Oh,” Tala answers stiltedly. “Right.”

I look at my sister carefully. Really look at her, using the eye that becomes more and more my one and only true self by the hour. Talanika’s soul has the same artificial design as all Athanatos, crafted with a purpose, complexity, and direction that does not exist in humans. In some ways, it makes her more beautiful; her soul is a literal work of art. In other ways, however, it makes her seem… stagnant. She’s so similar to the dozens of other Queens in the city, a manufactured essence to the design which makes her soul a lot less raw, a lot less of a pure representation of who she is. The part of her that is person rather than function is much smaller than in a human soul, though I suppose despite how overshadowed it is by the other parts it’s no less beautiful than them. Tala is purple clouds and calm melodies, occasionally screeching with anxious energy but holding fast to her desire to seem controlled and composed for a sister that is clearly losing it a little. She feels responsible for me, and though she’s genuinely terrified of my situation she’s doing everything in her power to keep an open mind for my sake. She’s wonderful.

“Have you looked at my soul, Tala?” I ask her.

“Um… yeah,” she confirms. “It’s just weird and empty.”

“Not anymore,” I say. “I was hiding before. Take another look.”

She seems a bit concerned at that, but she starts casting, and soon is staring directly at me. Her eyes go wide, and I wriggle a tentacle in greeting.

“Hey, Tala,” I say quietly.

“…What the fuck,” she breathes. “Oh, this is… you are… very pretty, Mal-Mal. Or I guess Vita?”

“Either is fine,” I shrug. “I’ve always liked it when you call me Mal-Mal.”

“Is this even a real color?” she mutters to herself. “Progenitor, this is… goodness.”

I can’t blush, but if I could then my cheeks would be burning red. People being in awe over my soul-self always gets to me. I finish off the last of my food, making sure the plate is clean as Tala silently fawns over me.

“So, um… what’s next?” I ask awkwardly. “Did you have other plans for the day, or…?”

“Huh?” Tala asks, jolting slightly as she peels her eyes away from my true self. “Oh, um… gosh, I mean, I pretty much have my whole day blocked off for you if you wanna hang out. This was supposed to be like a thing to help you feel better, it just… hasn’t quite gone as expected, haha!”

“I’d imagine not, no,” I chuckle. “Well, um, I’d love to spend the day with you if you have any other ideas of stuff to do.”

“Uh… we could play detonation?” Tala suggests. “Or hoopball?”

“I think I remember hoopball, but… what’s detonation again?”

“Wait, what!?” Tala yelps, jumping to her feet. “You don’t remember detonation!? You’re the one who taught me to play detonation! Okay we’re doing that, come on! To the Pneuma practice grounds!”

“Uh, okay, let’s—woah!”

Tala jumps out of her seat and physically scoops me up by the armpits, her other two hands weaving a flight spell that rockets us through the air before we’re even down to the first story of the building.

“Woah!” I yelp. “Woah woah woah woah! Tala, what are you doing!?”

“Come on, Mal-Mal!” my sister whoops as we blast out of the restaurant and into the open cavernous air of Liriope. “Don’t tell me you forgot how to fly, too!”

“I didn’t forget!” I snap. “I just… oh, fuck we’re really high. Did I tell you about the time I fought a teleporter who tried to kill me by doing this?”

“Cast the spell, you doofus!” Tala insists.

I do, hastily forming my own art to control my path through the air. Flying magic is extremely rare back on Verdantop, but here every Athanatos learns it from a young age.

“It was really funny, actually. The first time she cast it on me I resisted the spell, but that just meant all of my stuff got teleported a couple thousand feet in the sky and I was left fighting her cold-ass naked. When I actually got teleported into the sky, I was giving everyone who looked up quite a show.”

“Okay, that’s hilarious? But more importantly: focus. You’re not falling, Mal-Mal. You’ve done this before, but you’re also flying for the first time, right? You’re not going to want to miss it.”

My sister lets me go and I hang in the air, a twist of will being the only thing between myself and whatever direction I want to travel. The radiant, burning glow of the God’s Avarice hangs above us, illuminating the lush, beautiful city of Liriope from on high. The towering white spires of the opulent mansions, the twisting green vines cultivated to perfection, the fountains and parks maintained every day and every night into an impossible fantasy wonderland… all of it is dwarfed before my sister and I, rising up beyond it all. I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it.

I do not need to pull on the wretched meat in my legs to get from place to place. I do not even need to twitch my wings if I don’t wish to. Nothing stands between me and my destination but willpower. This—this right here—is how I was always meant to move.

“You remember the way?” Tala asks.

I look at her and signal assent. I do. This is my city.

“Then lead on, little sis,” Tala offers happily, and with a bubbling cry of joy I can’t possibly contain, I do exactly that.

I tuck my arms and wings close to my body and just let myself move, zipping and spiraling through the sky as giggles escape from my sides. I want to always be doing this. I want to never walk again.

“Slow down, Mal-Mal!” my sister yelps, rushing forwards to catch up with me. “Wings out, let yourself control your direction through gliding. You’ll exhaust yourself constantly relying on mana thrust like that. Let yourself take a break from channeling.”

I just laugh even harder. Exhaust myself from channeling? Why would I do that? I am my mana, I don’t have to fight it to get it to do what I want.

“Make me!” I call out to her, stretching my tongue out from between my mandibles to taunt her.

She spends a moment being stunned and mildly scandalized before letting out a laugh of her own and launching after me, the two of us dancing through the skies and pointedly ignoring the raptured looks from the workers below. I feel my training and experience as Malrosa tell me I’m doing it wrong, insisting that Tala is right and I need to be guiding my direction with my wings and controlled bursts of thrust. But my instincts as Vita, as a creature more than her flesh, sing a very different story. This could hardly be any better! Except… hmm. Perhaps if I modified the Motion art to be better accommodated for my limitless capacity to channel myself, I could make things a bit smoother. Just thinking about it causes more giggles to bubble up from my lungs, which is distracting enough that Tala manages to tackle me in midair, sending both of us briefly sprawling before I exert enough force to even us out.

My sister, panting with exhaustion, folds in her wings and allows me to carry her as she hangs on my shoulders beaming smugly at me as we laugh alongside one another.

“Wow,” she chuckles. “It’s been ages since we’ve done something like that.”

“Well big sis, when a Princess gets older she’s supposed to start acting more mature,” I snicker. “So logically, if a Princess gets younger…”

“Come on, come on,” Tala laughs, smacking my arm and pointing to our destination. “We’re almost there. I’ll barely be able to play if we keep flying this hard.”

“I’ll barely be able to play if you don’t teach me what the rules are,” I remind her, though I do carry her all the way to the Pneuma practice grounds. It’s a fairly simple building, staffed by a handful of men whose main job is to tend to the animals and cart said animals to the butchers when they die from having their souls taken out or catastrophically destroyed. I wonder which of the two we’ll be doing today, though my question is quickly answered when I set Tala down and she quickly jogs over to murder a small critter from the pens.

“Okay!” Tala announces as she cups the dead soul in two hands. “You got anima and mana sight on?”

“Always, yes,” I confirm.

She tilts her head.

“What, like… always-always?”

“My soul is an eye,” I point out.

“Oh. Right. Okay, um… so! Detonation! The basic premise of the game is to destroy the other player’s artwork while crafting one of your own.”

“Seems simple enough, but why would we need a soul for that?” I ask.

“Because the artwork is a channeled spell,” Tala explains. “And we may only alter it through manipulating its structure directly.”

Tala takes the soul and casts a few quick Pneuma spells, shattering it into dust. Rather than let the soul dust dissipate or use it as food for another soul, however, she starts crafting with it, making a tube-shaped structure of anima that very distinctly is not a soul anymore. I watch, utterly stunned, as the half of me that considers this normal and obvious does its best to tame the half of me that finds this revolutionary.

Anima is just a substance. It’s the mana-universe’s equivalent of matter, and though it is the fundamental building block of the soul there is absolutely nothing that prevents it from only being a substance that comprises souls. It can do so much more than that… or at least it could, if the Mistwatcher didn’t slurp up any loose anima that isn’t currently growing inside someone.

“So, normally you can only manipulate the channeled mana inside your own body and soul,” Tala continues, handing me half of the anima tunnel. “But if we use this to make a sort of link between our souls, we can both channel and manipulate the same set of mana. The art we craft has to have no impact on the game and a consumptive property below one percent; a basic Ekphrasis loop that converts mana into mana is the most popular structure, but you can go wild with whatever silly useless spells you can think of to fit the criteria. But of course, your attention has to be split between crafting your spell in such a way that I can’t disrupt it, and disrupting my spell to make it detonate. Oh, and uh, obviously you need to keep your mana constructs in the tube so they don’t blow up inside your body.”

“Won’t The One Below All reach up and eat our soul tube at some point?” I ask.

“Well, yes, and that’s when the game ends!”

“You Princesses playing detonation?” a gruff female voice asks.

A Queen’s voice, to be exact, since I’ve felt two of them heading our way for a while now. I turn to face them and immediately my eyes light up into a joyful expression.

“Queen Venatila!” I greet her happily. “And Naga, too! Nice to see you both.”

Nagatilka, my former combat instructor, gives me a tired-looking wave as she approaches alongside her partner, the absolutely massive Queen Venatila. A full head and a half taller than most other Queens, Venatila designed her body for weight and strength, like one of the heavy soldier designs from our history that are no longer used. She would often assist Naga with handling Tala and my martial training, usually by kicking our asses two on one. Vena is a bit of an odd one out since Queens are, on average, stronger than humans, but our culture doesn’t pride physical capability very much. Why would it, when magic is so much more effective? Even with Naga and Vena training us to be warriors, hardly any of that time was spent using weapons, and none of it was spent learning hand-to-hand fighting, the reasoning being that if we have a hand free, we should be casting a spell, not punching anybody.

I can’t deny the logic there, but I still feel as though it’s a bit of a wasted opportunity. I’m definitely glad I learned to use a spear. Even Venatila seems to just enjoy the aesthetic of having a huge, strong body more than actually using that strength as a replacement for magical might. …Of course, Naga also seems to quite enjoy the aesthetic of Vena having a huge, strong body, so maybe that’s all there is to it.

“I hope you’re recovering well, Malrosa,” Queen Nagatilka says, twisting her eyes into an apologetic expression. “Learning some games for the first time again, then?”

“Yep, I just finished being taught the rules,” I confirm. “It seems pretty fun, except for the part where I can’t play it.”

A confused pause occurs where the three other women mentally catch up with what I just said.

“Sure you can?” Tala insists. “Just give it a try!”

I shrug, figuring that’s probably the fastest way to explain anyway. Tala shows me how to get the anima tunnel set properly and begins to manipulate the Watcher mana inside. I stick a hand directly into the tunnel, pump my mana into it, and let a crackling roar ring out through the practice grounds as the two mana types annihilate each other.

“I can’t play this,” I repeat, thoroughly enjoying the expression on my stunned sister’s face. The reactions from Naga and Vena might be a bit more problematic, though.

“What the fuck did I just witness?” Vena asks, utterly baffled. “What kind of art did that? Did you see her craft anything, Naga?”

“I… did not,” my former teacher says, clearly concerned.

“Yeah, uh… I love you two very much, but you sort of missed something big when you checked my soul,” I tell them. “The Progenitor knows about it, so don’t worry too much, but uh… yeah.”

The two of them clearly aren’t happy with my non-explanation, but ‘the Progenitor is cool with it’ is a statement that holds quite a bit of weight here in Liriope. Still, it doesn’t stop Vena from blurting out quite the swear when she casts a Pneuma-sight spell.

“Mother’s ass-setae, girl!” Vena declares, squinting as she casts a soul sight spell. “What is in your memory core?”

“Uh… I am, technically. Anyway, Tala, I can’t actually channel The One Below All’s mana anymore. I use my own.”

“Your own?” she repeats.

“My own,” I confirm, raising a hand and flicking my fingers to cast a light spell in it. “It still works, it’s still mana, but it’s fundamentally incompatible with the mana in the atmosphere. They annihilate each other on contact.”

“How do you just keep getting weirder, sis?” Tala groans.

“Natural talent.”

Tala lets out an exasperated noise as the two Queens continue staring worriedly at my soul.

“What sort of spell could have possibly done this to you?” Naga asks.

“That’s a conversation I’ve already had way too many times today,” I hedge. “Can we just play a different game? Hoopball doesn’t require any joint artistry, it’s just spells, spells, spells.”

“I wanted to do joint artistry with you,” Tala says despondently. “It’s… kind of scary that you can’t? It’s the art, Mal-Mal.”

“Um… I can let you use my mana,” I tell her, shrugging sheepishly. “And we could work on something cooperatively sometime. But in a competition where you were using my mana, I’d have a stupidly unfair advantage.”

“Well, ignoring all that insane shit you’re talking about,” Vena butts in, “what the fuck are you doing with your shoulders, child? That… up and down thing. It looks uncomfortable.”

“Why exactly are we ignoring the insane shit she’s talking about?” Naga counters. “I very much want to focus on what the Princess is talking about.”

“Well I don’t!” I insist forcefully. “I’ll tell you later, okay? But today, Tala and I are hanging out and having fun. Right, Tala?”

“…Yeah,” she sighs, a bit despondently. “Though if you want to play hoopball, we’re probably going to want to invite them. It’s way less fun with only two people.”

I shoot a questioning glance at Naga and Vena to request their answer.

“I am trying to respect your privacy, Malrosa, but are you sure you’re not… in danger or anything?” Naga asks. “Is it safe for us to play around if your ability to interact with mana is acting up somehow? That looked an awful lot like the unknown Ekphrasis art the savage you killed was using.”

“It’s not an Ekphrasis art and it’s perfectly safe,” I sigh. “I’m fine, Naga, I promise. The lost memories suck and there are some weird bits right now but overall I’m doing better than ever.”

Or at least half of me is.

“Alright, well… if you’re sure,” Naga nods. “Do you have any objections, honey?”

“Nah,” Vena grunts happily. “Just don’t think we’ll go easy on you, Princesses. You know I’m not good at holding back.”

“Wait, are you two going to be on the same team?” Tala protests. “We’ll get destroyed!”

“Let’s give it a shot anyway!” I encourage her, jabbing her in the side with an elbow. “We can always change teams after the first game or two.”

“Uuugh, fine!” Tala groans. “It figures you don’t forget your thick-headed competitiveness.”

“Half of me is competitive,” I correct. “The other half just wants a rematch against some War Queens.”

“Just try not to merge with any of them,” Tala counters dryly.

“You two are not making it easy to not ask questions,” Naga says, squinting with irritation.

“Come on, let’s go to the courts,” Tala sighs, and once again we are flying fuck yes fuck yesssss!

All thrust, all power. By my will I move through the sky and it is glorious! Twirls and spins and loops, I am free! Free of the ground!

“That is not how I taught you to fly, girl!” Naga barks at me.

“Don’t care!” I laugh back. “Too much fun!”

Naga shouts a few other impudent reprimands, which I ignore to her mounting irritation (and Queen Venatila’s mounting amusement). Unfortunately, we’re very quickly at the hoopball courts, and it’s time to land and start strategizing for the game. Hoopball is incredibly, exceptionally simple: there are a set number of balls, usually one or two, and each team has one hoop, a thin but wide ring of grown chitin or worked wood about three feet in diameter. Each team starts with a certain number of points, and if a ball passes through your hoop, you lose a point. When you’re out of points, your team loses the game.

What makes the rules so deceptively simple is the fact that there are very few other rules at all. A team’s hoop is not stationary and is usually carried around at all times by one of the teammates (though naturally, you aren’t allowed to just sandwich the hoop between two players to make it impossible to score on). Magic is almost universally allowed as long as it’s not dangerous enough to cause serious injury. You can use Motion arts on your hoop, the ball, and even the field itself. You can flash light in the other team’s eyes with Wave arts, summon barriers of ice with Absence arts, and even power up your own body with Life arts. Pretty much the only things you can’t directly cast on are the other team’s players and the other team’s hoop. Almost everything else is fair game, barring obvious unfun exploits.

“You want offense or defense, Mal-Mal?” Tala asks me when we land. With two-player teams, it’s generally best for one to focus on the allied hoop while the other scores goals, though there’s nothing preventing those roles from being mixed or traded.

“Offense,” I answer immediately.

“Yeah, I thought you would,” she sighs. “You know I’m not up to holding off Queen Venatila, right?”

“Then I’ll just have to keep control of the ball,” I chuckle. “Actually… do you wanna do a double offense strategy?”

“Dang it, Mal-Mal, you basically died and you’re still reckless!”

“Hey, this isn’t reckless,” I protest. “It’s a game, there aren’t even any real stakes. Reckless would be like the time I wandered off into the forest alone after one of my other sisters died.”

Tala stiffens at that, surprise and concern jolting her into silence. I’m not really sure what else to say on the topic, though, so I turn my focus to the other team as she charges up the durability glyph on our hoop. I stare at them, and I stare into them, focusing my attention on their souls. Having only a couple days to get used to reading Athanatos souls—more like a couple hours, really, since I was hiding for most of it—has not quite been enough to get quick, reliable reads on them. It’s going to be tough to predict them in combat, but I suppose there’s no better way to learn than by doing. While I watch them I start flushing my body and soul with mana, preparing a handful of soul shards to get my strategy ready.

“You ready to lose, Princesses?” Vena calls out to us as Naga readies their team’s hoop.

“Yep!” Tala calls back.

“She means we’re going to kick your butts!” I call after her.

“What tactical advantage do you expect to gain from that?” Naga asks incredulously.

“That’s not what… oh, wow, I’m on the other side of this for once.”

“We’re ready,” Tala sighs. “Let’s just go.”

“Alright!” Vena roars. “Then it’s time! For! Hoopball!”

My sister and I rush forward as one, and the magic starts to fly.