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The last thing Sasha heard before losing control was Anne’s voice calling Marcy’s name. She was seeing red, her armor jangling as her entire body began to shake with fury. The blonde launched herself at Andrias with a strangled cry, but a strong arm around her waist stopped her mid-leap. Grime was shouting orders from behind, but Sasha wasn’t listening to him. She struggled against his grip as he dragged her away, backing towards the window. Olivia appeared beside them, putting her fingers to her lips and blowing a harsh whistle. Tears were falling from her eyes in steady droplets. With a powerful leap, Grime took Sasha with him out the castle window. A final desperate cry left her lips as she watched the throne room, Andrias, Marcy, disappear from view, replaced by open skies.
The three of them landed safely on the back of Joe Sparrow, who squawked with the impact but remained alight, wings outspread. Yunnan dove from the same window a moment later, and Olivia caught her with surprising strength. Sasha sank heavily into the leather saddle, a choked sob escaping her. The wind against her face instantly dried the tears as they streaked across her cheeks. Behind them, Andrias’ floating castle became no more than a speck in the distance.
As the party drifted away, debating where they should land for the night, Sasha remained silent, her chin resting on her hand. Her tears had dried up with her emotions, and she was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to drift off to sleep. She blinked slowly, watching the clouds pass by until the air around her became suddenly, unbearably cold.
Sensing movement from the corner of her eye, Sasha whipped around, seeing no one. Her amphibian companions were still engrossed in their discussion, seated on her opposite side some distance away. None of them seemed to notice any chill or the feeling of being watched, which had Sasha wondering whether she had fallen asleep and stumbled into a dream. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, hoping to wake herself up. No luck. Another shift from her left side. She could feel it now, a blast of cold air against her exposed arm. Sasha turned, taking in a shoulder, a neck, a head that looked suspiciously human. An abnormally pale hand reached for her face, and something deep within her decided that maybe she wasn’t dreaming.
“Sasha?”
Sasha sat up straight in her bed with a gasp, her shirt drenched in sweat. Moonlight was creeping through the bedroom window, partially obscured by clouds. She rubbed her face with her hands, groaning as she swung her legs out of the cot she had been sleeping in.
It had been one week since the toad invasion and Andrias’ betrayal. They were staying in the West Toad Tower, headed by Beatrix. With the unifying North Tower destroyed, those from the surviving council migrated to the second most respected fortress. It was conveniently situated between Wartwood and the outskirts of Newtopia, where defectors from Andrias’ army were hiding out. The tower wasn’t fitted with the amenities Sasha was used to, but under Beatrix's command it was in far better shape than Grime’s tower initially was.
The politics of Amphibia collapsed the day Andrias’ betrayal became universally known. Frogs and toads became wary of Newtopian citizens, but the newts quickly proved themselves useful to the growing insurrection. The king’s selfish motivations left little room for loyalty from his people, who suffered massively at the hands of their own ruler’s betrayal. Between the toad invasion and the floating castle destroying civilian property, most newts were fully discontent with the monarchy.
Since the obliteration of the North Tower, no further attempts were made on the lives of the toads. Through Newtopian spies the rebellion learned that Andrias seemed to have set his sights on a more promising target: Earth. This allowed them time to amass an army from all around Amphibia, many of them familiar with either Anne or Marcy. Sasha was also well-known, but for not-so-sentimental reasons. Despite this, she and the toads managed to prove themselves willing to fight for a better Amphibia. They were able to recruit an amphibian militia under the supervision of the council and General Yunnan, and once again the teen found herself in the middle of an all-out war.
Unable to stay asleep, Sasha dragged herself out of bed and began searching for her clothes. She opted to slip her breastplate over her shirt rather than don her full suit of armor. She then shouldered the scabbard of her heron’s sword and tamed her hair into a messy ponytail before exiting the bedroom.
At the bottom of the tower’s spiral stairs Sasha found herself in a sparsely-populated dining hall. A few of the toads from the nightwatch were nursing steaming mugs and bloodshot eyes, and there was a newt snoozing on a stool in the corner. She spotted Grime at one of the tables, wide awake and chowing down on some mangled insect Sasha didn’t recognize.
“Grime, I’m going out,” she told him, her hand already pressed against the solid wooden door.
“Oh, Sasha!” Grime acknowledged her with uncharacteristic cheer. He jumped up from his chair, his midnight snack seemingly forgotten. “May I come with you? Walking in the moonlight does wonders for my complexion.”
“Actually, I’d like to be alone if that’s okay with you. Please,” she added, resisting the urge to curl her lip at that particular phrase. Grime deflated a little, but he was accustomed to Sasha being distant, especially now.
“Yes, of course.” His downcast expression melded into something more serious. “But if you ever need to chat, about anything, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” Sasha told him, and she meant it. With a small smile and a wave, she made her way out into the night. She didn’t go far, opting to sit outside the barracks on an old stump, where she had a decent view of the stars. The blonde unsheathed her sword, balancing it on her knees and watching the blade capture the essence of the moonlight. Alone with the night, Sasha began to dwell on the bizarre nature of her situation, and where it placed her relationship with her girls.
More specifically, for the past week, Sasha had been quite literally living with a ghost.
After their first encounter, Marcy continued to visit as often as she could. She was ecstatic to learn that Sasha could see her, given that none of the amphibians seemed to. It took considerable effort on Marcy’s part to make herself seen and heard, but she was gradually appearing for longer periods of time. Unfortunately for Sasha, this allowed her to appear at some inopportune moments.
“Wow, you're pretty good at this!” Marcy gushed, interrupting Sasha in the middle of a training drill. The blonde screeched and lost her balance, falling from the pillar she was jumping from and landing face-first into the mud.
“Oops,” she muttered sheepishly, drifting down to where her friend lay motionless. “I’m sorry! Sometimes I forget that I- are you okay?” Sasha slowly lifted her head from the muck, her contorted face barely visible under the gunk. The ghost-girl tried and failed to suppress her snort. With a growl, Sasha leapt from the ground and launched herself at Marcy, landing with an undignified barrel roll into more muck. She wrestled with herself for a bit while Marcy remained floating just above her, shaking her head. Later that evening, Sasha brushed past a concerned Grime with an incoherent grumble and made her way straight to the showers.
Sasha should've been overjoyed to see Marcy again in some state other than lifeless, but “joy” was the furthest from anything she felt lately. She muted her emotions at the best of times to allow herself some feelings of control over them. Now, with Anne gone and Sasha’s plans shattering around her like glass, she put all of her efforts into hiding her feelings of despair.
“Why are you up?” It was a voice Sasha was expecting to hear, but not looking forward to hearing. She raised her tired eyes to the girl half-standing, half-hovering before her. She was paler and thinner than usual, and Sasha could see the vague glow of starlight through her skin.
“Couldn't sleep.” She unfolded a wool cloth that was tucked into the pocket on her scabbard. “Why are you following me?” Marcy shrugged.
“You're the only one I can seem to get through to. And I don't have much else to do.” Sasha suddenly regarded the girl with an air of suspicion.
“Have you been watching me all night?”
“Um, no?” Was Marcy's very unconvincing response. In the past the thought may have flattered her, but now it had Sasha grunting in annoyance.
“Whatever.” She turned her attention to her sword, evidently having enough to do with Marcy already. As soon as she looked down, a flicker of movement barely caught her eye. When she looked up again, the apparition was gone.
“Being a ghost kinda sucks,” Marcy told her, her voice suddenly very close to Sasha’s ear.
“Holy shit-” she snapped, nearly dropping her sword. “Can you not do that?” Marcy laughed, a quiet, tinkling sound that was more playful than usual. It would almost be charming if it wasn't so annoying.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sasha huffed in displeasure, and the pair fell into an awkward silence. Somewhere above them, a shooting star kited past.
“This is a little weird, isn't it?”
“What is?” Sasha could think of a few different answers to that particular question.
“Us, hanging out together. Without Anne.” The blonde said nothing, just went back to polishing her sword.
“When was the last time we did this?” Sasha sighed, conceding to the conversation.
“Last summer, before you- before we came to Amphibia. At the froyo place? You wanted to gush about your crush on Anne.” Marcy’s ethereal form rippled in concentration, and perhaps a little embarrassment.
“Oh, yeah. You know, for some reason I kinda thought you'd forget about that.” Marcy laughed humorlessly. “Guess I really fucked that one up, huh?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Marsh,” Sasha told her, the corners of her mouth curling into a wry smile.
“Good point. I guess we fucked it up.” Sasha’s hand slipped, and she nearly sliced her way across her thumb and pointer finger, but she hardly noticed. This admission coming from Marcy’s mouth had her wishing she could swallow her own words. The blonde clenched her jaw tight enough to make her left eye twitch.
“At least I was actually trying to get us home.” She spit out the last word like poison, wishing it would sting, but she knew better. The two girls were on even ground, something Sasha wasn't accustomed to admitting to or dealing with.
“You really think you’re still doing what’s best for her, after all this time?” In her mind, Sasha cycled through the few emotions she did know how to communicate, and settled on furious.
“What, and you were? You were too busy living your little fantasy life to even think about us. You weren’t dropped in the middle of the woods and forced to fight for your life. You didn’t get kidnapped and thrown into prison without proper food or hygiene. This whole time you’ve been living in a fucking palace.” Sasha was leaning over Marcy now, the tip of her sword buried between the cobblestones. She was leaning over the hilt like a drunkard, jabbing an accusatory finger at the transparent girl’s chest. “You have no idea what we’ve been through, so don’t even think about blaming this on me.”
“I’m not.” Sasha’s lips froze around a silent “o.” A sharp exhale was all that remained of her retort as the words died on her tongue. “I’m not trying to shift the blame, Sash. But I think we both need to admit to ourselves that we’ve been terrible friends to Anne.” The blonde felt like she had been punched in the gut, the reality of their situation finally setting in. She was staring transfixed at the literal ghost of someone she once knew, looking through her into the mountains beyond. She would have reached out and took hold of Marcy’s hand if she thought she would feel anything beneath her fingers.
“Since I got here, I haven't once stopped looking for you and Anne.” She carefully leaned her heron’s sword against the stump she had been polishing it on. “I thought to myself, ‘You need to be strong for both of them. And you need to find a way home. No matter the cost.’” Sasha watched as Marcy’s hands reached subconsciously for her chest. There was no visible wound in her ghastly form, but the blonde could see it in her mind’s eye, gaping and spilling her friend’s blood before her. No matter the cost.
“When I realized that Anne had been happy here, that she had made new friends, that goal started to change. I thought I needed to win her back, but after we- after what happened between us, it felt hopeless. Like I had finally lost her.”
“But you didn't give up.” Marcy said quietly. “You came back.”
“Yeah, to betray you.” The smaller girl laughed good-naturedly.
“Sorry, but you can’t convince me that's the only reason.” Dammit, talking to Marcy was hard. She knew too much about her. Or they were just too much alike. If she could, she would be punching her in the arm right about now.
“Alright, smartass. Maybe I did come back for you and Anne.” She thought about her girls up on that stage in Wartwood, having the time of their lives. About how Anne's face lit up when Sasha entered stage right, playing Anne’s song, allowing her to take the spotlight if only for a moment.
She couldn't imagine what Anne felt when, even after all that, she still managed to betray her one last time.
“I want to try and change, but- dammit, I- I don’t know how.” The words left Sasha like a curse she could no longer endure. Her entire body trembled with the weight of her confession, her knuckles white from the tight fists she was gripping to her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut in willful concentration, and when she opened them she saw the mountains again, this time obscured by a mysterious fog. It took her a moment to register that, no, there was no instantaneous mountain haze, nor sudden change in the weather. She was seeing Amphibia through Marcy, and Marcy was hugging her.
“I know,” she whispered into Sasha’s ear. The blonde shivered as the chill of Marcy’s body began seeping through her armor. The ghost-girl was concentrating hard on manifesting a physical presence, her form wavering with the effort. “It’s okay. We'll figure it out.” Some solidity returned to her arms and hands, and Sasha could feel ghostly fingers traveling down her neck. She leaned back into the touch in spite of the cold. She would rather have this than to never feel Marcy’s touch again.
“I'm sorry,” Sasha choked out. A single tear blazed a trail down her flushed cheek. She reflexively reached for Marcy's hips, but her hands only drifted through empty air. “I didn't- fuck , I didn't think he would kill you-”
“Hey, don’t be sorry for that,” Marcy soothed her as her friend whimpered and hiccuped. “It wasn't your fault. You tried to warn us, remember?” Sasha sank to the floor with Marcy in tow, the living girl drawing her knees to her chest in a vague attempt to shield her from herself.
“What are we going to do now?” She asked, a merciless humor in her voice. Sasha really couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Marcy scooted closer, laying a hand on her friend’s knee.
“Maybe we can start by being honest with each other?” Like before, Sasha could feel the barest touch of flesh where Marcy’s hand was. This time, she reached for her hand, passing straight through it and gripping her knee instead. She welcomed the cold that shot through her arm at the contact, her only confirmation that Marcy was really, truly there.
“We can try.”