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It was a game of pure irritation, which had lost its luster far sooner than Bernkastel anticipated. She wanted nothing more than the farce to cease. Exerting herself to such a physical degree was not her style, preferring to send pieces in her place when her supported side started faltering. She wasn’t the kind of witch thrusting herself into the blinding spotlight, and enjoyed the front row seat, dining on the finest snacks provided by lowly goats.
But for Lambdadelta, Bernkastel was positive it was the highlight of her afternoon. Their game was that of a cat and mouse. While Bernkastel often pursued victory with pouncing fury, whenever she went one way, Lambdadelta dashed in another, or pivoted to give chase. Round ears and a thin, wimpy tail did not suit Bernkastel, who found herself in a fray unlike their common romps.
In the Sea of Fragments, the glittering worlds served as little more than target practice. They floated amidst the sprawling, velvet emptiness. Such a domain seemed to exist within a thick, vast cumulus cloud. There was no end, unless a Voyager Witch tapped a stray fragment, and entered a game, delaying the common threat of boredom. It was an option widely considered feasible. Bernkastel could have allowed her consciousness to slip into any surrounding world with a single touch. Recently, she had entered a notable scenario once vehemently deplored, a past she never wanted to remember, all for the sake of high societal competition with her most darling friend.
And yet, she weaved low, eyes on no prize. The wind rippled, creating blitzing shockwaves overhead. The arrow missed by inches, and Bernkastel refused to allow anyone else to step upon her shadow. Furniture had no right to assault a witch of her esteemed caliber, and when they were under the rule of Bernkastel’s treasured love, she clicked her tongue.
“Apologies! She ducked at the last second,” 45 exclaimed, and with a roll in mid-air, Bernkastel flipped, almost relishing the elongated shock when 45’s mouth dropped. “A-ah! Bernkastel-sama has faced us! Um, should we ready emergency attacks?”
As 45 and 410 lowered their clasped hands, and golden energy fizzled from their tight palms, Lambdadelta yawned. She fanned the air away, blinking dozily. She cupped her hips, and crossed her legs, frowning.
“Beeeern! Unless you’ve fallen out of love with me, and that’s totally impoooossible, don’t tell me this is all you’ve got,” she jeered, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I only fired two hundred rounds, and you’re slowing down, way down! Am I boring you? Is that it?”
Her petulant pouting slackened Bernkastel’s shoulders. “Lambda, this is already irksome.”
“Huh? No way! I bet you need-” She snapped her fingers, 45 and 410 immediately raising their arms. “-the exercise, slowpoke!”
At their lady’s command, with darting data fanning around them, Lambdadelta’s loyal minions fired. The sleek, golden ribbon zigzagged through the invisible floor, snaking toward Bernkastel’s feet. It arched and swerved, tempting Bernkastel to dodge like a desperate jackrabbit.
She remained firm, and wrinkled her nose. Lowly pieces had no chance to graze her. Lambdadelta knew better than to employ trash to impede upon their love.
A single, loose palm raised. Instantly, a dense, polarizing shield expanded. The arrow crumpled and wrinkled, then burst into a fit of dust. The molecules seeped into the air, smelling like ripe pumpkins.
While 45 sputtered, and 410, her grin tight, wiped sweat off her brow, Bernkastel snarled, “Do these wimps have a death wish, or do you, Lambda?”
She immediately waved her finger like a chastising teacher. “Not so fast! These girls are under my protection, and I called in a favor from Beato. I’m borrowing them!”
“Then, you’re admitting the lazy one in this relationship is you.”
“It’s called spicing it up, Bern! You could learn a thing or two from romance novels. Bringing in thirds or fourths can do a relationship good, but you’ll always be my one and only!”
“Somehow-” Bernkastel’s lip curled. “-that pisses me off more.”
Lambdadelta sneered, leering over the tip of her nose. She exuded pure, sugary malice, the taste intimate on Bernkastel’s tongue. She flicked her wrist, mania rising like static electricity. “Now, come on, my bunnies! Strike Bernkastel with an arrow like my pure, undying, utterly agonizing adoration!”
“Nyeh heh! Target locked on Bernkastel-sama!”
“D-data link once again received! Coordinates affirmed!”
“Firing!”
The reactions of the loyal rabbits meant nothing to Bernkastel. She had no interest in acknowledging either, her attention fixing on the arrow aiming square and true for her chest. It did not deviate from its intended path, truly a lightning bolt.
Yet, it was not Lambdadelta’s power. It did not derive from her. Enlisting the breakneck aid of the Chiesters amused for a moment, and yet, the novelty wore off like a mortal fad.
It took two to create a universe. Bernkastel never desired another person in a realm crafted of their attachment.
She fell, dropping herself in a swan dive. Gravity pushed hard on her shoulders, and propelled her headfirst to the gaping gorge. She was succumbing before their very eyes, giving up the ghost of her existence.
The jolt racing through Lambdadelta earned the most mild hint of a smirk.
As the Chiesters gasped, the arrow speared into the nothingness, and Lambdadelta sprung. She screeched Bernkastel’s name, so piercing that the eardrums of Chiesters must have ruptured. She lunged after Bernkastel’s fleeting form, wispy and airy between her gloved hands. Twitching fingers grasped at incorporeal flesh, and her wail howled for miles, rattling the fragments.
“Bern! This is too much, even for you! Threatening to leave me alone, how cruel-!”
At the invocation of her title, and the shock crossing Lambdadelta, Bernkastel inverted herself, and clasped Lambdadelta’s round cheeks. Stroking her soft, supple skin, Bernkastel delivered a crooning ultimatum.
“Then, love me with your love alone.”
While her body reformed, Bernkastel relished the candied aroma of her dearest Lambdadelta, embracing her in a vice like a bear trap.