Chapter Text
“Focus, Your Highness.”
Cherri was sure she was doing it right, just as the older mage had instructed her earlier:
‘Close your eyes, concentrate your mind, think fiery thoughts’.
That last instruction had seemed a little silly at first, but they had been at this for hours and at this point, Cherri was willing to try anything. She took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of her open palm, trying desperately to will into existence even a tiny flame, a spark, even. But behind the darkness of her eyelids, Cherri could tell that there was no such phenomenon occurring. Her hand remained cold.
The sudden flapping of a bird’s wings overhead shattered her concentration, and Cherri’s eyes snapped back open. Her surroundings, unsurprisingly, remained the same. She stood in the middle of the run-down Red Kingdom opposite her mentor, Sausage the necromancy mage.
“Damn, I thought you might’ve had it that time.” He spoke, looking about as disappointed as Cherri felt. She kicked the dirt in frustration, watching the subsequent cloud of dust drift up into the air. As Sausage began to ramble on about something or other, Cherri’s gaze flicked to her right, just for a moment.
There, just off to the side, was her knight, Apo. She was as usual, standing guard, a silent observer of Cherri’s magic training. Their eyes met, briefly, and Cherri felt her cheeks flush with warmth, as she noticed how intently Apo was watching her. Those eyes, deep red and full of intensity, just as they had been that night down at the boat dock. They made Cherri nervous, or at least it felt like nerves, but there was something else to it that she hadn’t yet been able to place…
Cherri ushered that thought away, as she always did, and quickly returned her attention to her mentor.
“I just don’t understand why it’s not working!” Cherri cried out, “I thought you said you were sure it would work this time.”
“I was sure, Your Highness!” Sausage fired back, clearly growing exasperated and tired himself, “You know, maybe the reason this isn’t working, is because you simply don’t have any magic in your veins, have you considered that?”
The silence hung thick and heavy in the air.
Cherri found herself unable to retort, unable to say something to prove the mage wrong. Because she couldn’t. In an awful, drawn out moment, it dawned on the Princess that he very well could be right.
“No- that… That came out wrong, I deeply apologise-“ Sausage stuttered, trying to backtrack over his little outburst, but Cherri was already out of earshot, dodging past him with a mumbled ‘Excuse me’, and making a beeline for her front door. She just needed to get away, somewhere that he wouldn’t see her cry. In the distance, Cherri could hear the sound of Apo yelling at Sausage for what he’d said, the mage bleating out what was likely a string of apologies in response.
Only when the door was shut and she was safely tucked away in her house, did Cherri finally let her tears fall. She flopped down on the bed, turning her face into the pillow and sobbing as quietly as possible. She wasn’t angry at Sausage, in fact, his words had simply acknowledged the one thing that Cherri was too afraid to. The harsh reality, the ugly truth. What if she really didn’t have any magical abilities? It was entirely possible, as far as Cherri knew, fire magic only ran through her father’s side of the family. Her mother, before she passed, had possessed no magical genes, and what if Cherri was the same? She was going to fail her kingdom, she was going to fail her father, she was going to fail-
There was a gentle knocking at the door.
Cherri immediately sat up, hastily wiping away tears with her sleeve as the door creaked open. As expected, it was Apo. They approached, stopping a few feet from the bed where Cherri now sat.
“Don’t listen to him, my lady.” Apo started, but Cherri just shook her head,
“What if he’s right?” She managed to force out, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop more tears from falling. That too, failed, and Cherri resigned herself to crying in front of her knight.
She felt the mattress dip, and the Princess opened her eyes to see Apo now sitting beside her on the bed. Her knight reached out, taking both of Cherri’s hands in her own. Cherri’s heart all but stopped beating, and for a single, fleeting moment, all of her worries melted away. But the feeling didn’t last, and the oh-so comforting presence of Apo’s hands around hers quickly became just another catalyst to her tears.
“Please, don’t cry.” Apo spoke so softly, which, if anything just made it worse.
“I’m going to fail everybody.” Cherri sobbed, “I’m going to fail Soluna, I can’t save them like this.”
“Nonsense, I know you have it in you, Cherri. You’re strong.” Apo reassured her, and Cherri finally willed herself to look up and meet their eyes. Apo continued, “We’ve only been here for two weeks, we still have time to figure this out. We will figure this out, I promise.”
“You double promise?” Cherri sniffled,
“I double promise.” Apo replied, chuckling a little, and Cherri was powerless to stop the smile she felt creeping onto her face, and she let it. But, after a few moments, the crushing weight of reality wiped it away again.
“I have no idea how to do this.” Cherri confessed, plain and simple.
“I believe in you.” The words were spoken with the seriousness of an oath, and Cherri knew that Apo meant what she said.
“Okay.”