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The Sea of Fragments was a vast ocean of spilled ink and glimmering fragments. Each shard contained a universe for a voyager witch to tamper with until the inevitable ennui hit. Indulgence could only last so long before weariness settled, like needing a nap after a heavy meal. Then, like skipping a stone across the waves, the game was abandoned, and their self-imposed journey renewed.
It was endless. Not a moment passed when Lambdadelta wasn’t seeking sweet sustenance to satisfy her cravings. She almost envied one of her mikos, the Endless and Golden Witch, who found infinite satisfaction within her small island. Beatrice had acquired everything her heart desired, her efforts and prayers thoroughly rewarded. For that, Lambdadelta applauded her actions when the games concluded and promised eternal protection for the world Beatrice lovingly crafted.
But Beatrice was not a voyager. Her domain provided exactly as she wished. Lambdadelta’s fate was fickle, like seafoam waiting to melt under the sun on the drifting ocean. She needed entertainment to keep her cotton candy dreams and abate the nightmares. Otherwise, within the starry sea reflecting her sinking visage, memories of centuries ago claimed hold of her brain. Plunging in their claws, Lambdadelta would be torn apart limb from limb, undulation from undulation, until the agony of the logic error erased her rationality.
There was only one witch in the world who shared her exquisite existence. Together, they understood terror and pleasure few comprehended. Even in Senate, Lambdadelta and her beloved were witches of incomprehensible power, cursed to venture, never to rest.
Lambdadelta would have never considered an alternative. An agent from Heaven had once offered to put her in a gentle slumber. She had gripped her swords, both infused with enough reasoning to deny her existence. Lambdadelta had laughed in her usual flair as she shredded the unskilled rube to pieces. She had been splattered in viscera, the copper stench clinging to her dress. She had left behind her corpse, as if she had missed a trash receptacle by the beach, warning potential detectives or witch hunters to steer clear from her path. It wasn’t even worth the effort to flick her soul toward the most unfortunate fragment. (By miraculous discovery, her beloved had found the splintered carcass adrift in the ocean some years later, writing what a “pleasant surprise” it had been to discover her handiwork after decades apart. Lambdadelta had pressed the letter, scented with a spritz of plum perfume, to her chest until they became one.)
But there were moments when Lambdadelta was weak. Her legs were numb, tingling as she floated. Her arms were hoisted, as if they were strings around her wrists. Her invisible puppeteer hauled her through the shimmering sea, but no light flickered in her gaze. Lambdadelta’s stomach churned, sickened without nourishment. A faint pulse throbbed behind her eyes and spread to her temples, commanding hold of her head like elastics around a watermelon.
The strain forced a groan to slip past her teet. The worlds fell wayside as she swayed. Countless fragments illuminated her toppling form, feeling as if hands had wrapped around her ankles. Slender, strong fingers tore through her stockings. Phantom sensations raced along her skin, darkness creeping into the corners of her vision.
Lambdadelta outstretched her hands. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Even if she was able to conjure a sound, it would have been nothing more than a moan. Her eyelids slowly blinked, her lashes wet, her body poisoned by a witch’s natural ailment, and she tilted her chin toward the heavens.
Like finding a needle in a haystack, their eyes met. She snapped awake, drawn in by the dark, entreating pools of wine. Amid the darkness, she came closer, almost dissolving within the violet, murky atmosphere.
“Lambda,” Bernkastel purred, her claw catching behind Lambdadelta’s neck, “aren’t you supposed to find me? You’re slacking.”
Her lip curled. Blood rushed to her heart. It could’ve ruptured from her chest, and she would’ve been delighted to present it to Bernkastel on a silver platter.
“I guess we met again when one of us cried, after all,” she joked, nestling into the warmth of Bernkastel’s bosom.
Bernkastel raked her fingers through Lambdadelta’s short, sweaty locks. She examined her flushed complexion, her free hand cupping her jaw. Slowly, she traced her thumb across Lambdadelta’s round cheek. The skin broke, and a thin line appeared, blood beginning to leak in steady drips.
Lambdadelta shuddered and gasped. She had almost forgotten Bernkastel’s touch. It seared as it comforted. Bernkastel pressed on the new wound, and Lambdadelta’s blood spurted, catching on her knuckles. She yelped, the heat bringing a rosy color to her face, reminded of reality with a subsequent sigh.
But she frowned. In typical feline fashion, Bernkastel licked her thumb and not Lambdadelta’s cheek.
“Hey, come on, aren’t you going to take care of this properly?” Lambdadelta huffed, wrapping her arms around Bernkastel’s shoulders. She held her close, digging into the frills of her collar.
“Instead of pigging out, it’s best to savor the flavor,” Bernkastel countered, and she gave another careless lick. “Besides, if I went all out now, I’d disregard you too quickly.”
“Like I’d allow that. You’re mine again.”
Entwined after centuries apart, Lambdadelta and Bernkastel grinned. Licking the bloody stream, Lambdadelta sighed, shivering, enjoying the coolness of Bernkastel’s palms. It was a relishing contrast, intoxicating Lambdadelta all over again.
Bernkastel’s tail flicked.
“There’s an enthralling game board to the south. I’m inviting you personally, so let’s make haste.”
“Will we be partners or enemies again?”
“Depends on whatever’s more interesting. Am I right?”
“You aren’t wrong.”
Their hands met, and they squeezed until something cracked. Already, her agony evaporated, forgotten like a daydream in school. Lambdadelta breathed in the scent of her beloved like the richest wine, following along as if leashed. And for a brief reprieve, no matter how many years it would now be, her journey ended, hand-in-hand with the only witch who had kissed her heart.