My Heart Doth Wander (c) 03-04 by me, A. Fleury

All "Sonic the Hedgehog" characters and related indicia (c) and TM Sega/Archie/and DIC. Used without permission.

Packbell (only mentioned in passing) © David Pistone

Casssar and Cu Chulainne (c) A. Fleury!

Email any comments or hate-mail ;) to Cu_Chulainne@yahoo.com

This document may be freely distributed, as long as it's not altered in any way. This story contains: violence, sex stuff, swearing and other naughty stuff.

Italics  = thoughts, flashbacks or first person POVS

--- = Cu’s voice

Onto the lengthy A/N!:

This is the 3^rd story in my series ‘The Lifeblood of Mobius’, which includes the preceding stories “The Glow of Something Bright” and “Following Tributaries”. I would really suggest reading those first because this story would probably be confusing otherwise (and it’s probably confusing enough, knowing my writing!)

It’s quite a long story so I’ve decided to split it into chapters, which I don’t always do...but one, I can get more exposure on FF.net, because well, you get bumped off the recents page very quickly there. Two, because the story is so lengthy, chapters will allow people to read it in smaller chunks, instead of the entire long overblown thing ;)

Also, when first starting to write this, I couldn’t decide between doing it in third or first person POV, so I just did both! This was also partially inspired by the TV show ‘Boomtown’ which shows an event from different characters POVs. Just noting this to help avoid any confusion... I also bolded when it happens, so er yes.

This story is dedicated to John Roberts, because he always gave me such encouraging words on the previous stories and his interest in the series motivated me to get off my lazy ass and write the third part. Now, seeing as this story might suck to most people, you can just blame him for that! :P :P

OK, enough blabbing, onto the story!!

Lifeblood of Mobius

Story #3

                        "My Heart Doth Wander"

                              by A. Fleury

**From the mouth of I, Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis**

I moved from those hallways and rooms of stale contained air, and out onto the balcony that hung on the high reaches of the building. The city of Robotropolis. It lay dark and quiet before me. The realm of dusty streets, empty.

This was his kingdom now. My Castdecass, my Black Flower.

But according to him, it was mine too. He said so...when he got the idea to fashion the crown...

Three days ago. I’d been gazing out the window. Somehow I thought there would be something more interesting out there than my surroundings of metal walls, and metal floors, and still more metal: ceilings, sentry guards standing in the doorways, whose archways were of metal too, all polished and glinting with the overhead lights.

I could understand why someone could go mad here. And how only someone mad could have built this.

I heard soft footsteps behind me and then, “Casssar?” came in an odd accent. I turned to see something not made of metal. My Black Flower, a tiny man, with pale pale skin and blue eyes that shimmered at the sight of me.

He smiled, or what I knew as one, the slight quirk of his pouting lips upwards. He was holding something behind his back and he withdrew it. A circlet of gold balanced in his outstretched hands. Two flowers were carved upon it, one at each temple, and between them, a strip of six tangerine jewels, glinting the light back three fold.

“It is beautiful,” I said.

“It’s for you,” he said, and he beckoned me to bend lower. I did so and he placed the crown onto my head, straightening it to his satisfaction. He stepped back and I stood at my full height.

He nodded, his eyes sweeping my face. “It fits you. You look like a queen.” Then softer his voice came, his cheeks flushing. “I...want you...to be my queen, Cass.”

“Oh Cast...” I stroked his cheek and he nuzzled against my hand like a cat. He seemed to ache for any touch I gave. Endearing...and almost too needy...all at once.

I was in adoration.

“The Queen of Robotropolis...”

The crown was lightweight, but even small things can become a burden after a time.

*********

Sleep. A time of peace.

For the lucky ones, the healthy ones.

For others, like him? The sick souls?

He sometimes loathed that spaceless realm, and all the horrors it brought him. Dead things come back to bite, forgotten things brought back clear and vivid as the day they were conceived. Memories and atrocities.

Everything he didn’t want to see.

But Snively had to succumb to the need for sleep. So he laid his head upon the pillow and shut his eyes, and pulled the sheets up. He drifted away into what he hoped would be a calm flat sea.

But so often it was whipped into black frothing waves.

Waves. Of forest trees, the green tops waving. And he was somehow there, on a path, walking. Or was he? Blackness folded in.

“Snively...”

He heard a breathy voice. It sounded weak, like it couldn’t get any louder.

A flash of red. And a scent.

It smelled like pennies.

He realized suddenly, in this odd blackness, that he was cold. There was weight all around him, like he was buried under a pile of pebbles.

Pennies?

That smell...what was it?

‘Open your eyes...’

He did. If he could scream, he would, but there was no strength. He was covered in cuts. His throat was sliced open. His heart was torn. A massacre. He was a massacre.

And he was buried.

He realized he was quite large, and his face boasted a large orange mustache. He was...Robotnik.

Dead?

And then it all reversed, and he was himself again: Snively. He was trudging along a pathway in the forest, and the green trees were wavering in a breeze. His feet stopped him by a huge mound of dirt. He wanted to scream at himself to run, because he knew what was underneath.

He saw the dirt move. He saw himself startle and try to leap away.

But it was too late. His ankle was caught by a hand, and it reeled him in. Then it latched about his throat and he could scream this time.

It was his Uncle grasping him and he was towering, decayed, holes in his vengeful smile and caverns for eyes. He wore maggots like a white shirt.

He heard himself whimper and then gag as those hands clenched tighter around his neck. It was strange, for even decayed and dead, Uncle’s flesh still bled. The smell was so strong. Blood, copper-penny blood, rotten. It choked him as equally as the deteriorating hands.

The blood oozed. And where the blood touched him

The nephew

The killer

It burned through him like acid.

********

He woke up screaming, flailing his arms, shuddering, gasping, drooling, crying, sobbing, retching.... He woke with mortal fear etched into his face and the sheets soaked with more than just sweat.

“NO, JULIAN, NO!” He sprang from the bed, his words coming out like machine-fire in their ferocity. He aimed a finger at the pale figure in the mirror. “YOU’RE DEAD, GODDAMN YOU!! DEAD!!” In fear-fed fury he launched at the mirror, punching his own reflection. The blows that came to his small trembling form were from his own hands now! Never again from Uncle Julian’s!!

He fell to the floor and stared at his bare scarred arms. He tried to keep that thought in his head. That Julian was DEAD. That he could never yell, break, hit, again. He could never make new scars. These old markings of his would fade away. Julian was gone. Packbell was gone. These scars would fade...

He laid there until the shuddering subsided and slowly, with a groan of effort, he pushed himself to his feet.

He stared for a long moment at the pale slim body in the mirror. Then slowly, a smile crept upon his face. One finger reached out and stroked the reflection’s cheek. “It’s alright to smile. You’re free now.”

With his eyes, those ice-pale haunted orbs, on the mirror, he slid his hands across his shoulders. Down his chest, over those ridges of ribs, and down slim, flat sides, over the scarred stomach. Soothing the skin, telling it that there was nothing more to fear. His hands reached the hipbones, jutting through the creamy skin, and rested there. He grinned at the mirror, feeling strangely elated, and slightly silly...and then he turned and retrieved his clothing.

His normal gray uniform fit snugly as always, but he made a modification. The red armband imprinted with a black “R” for Robotnik was ripped away and tossed into the trash.

“There. Perfect.” He gave a final nod to the icy boy in the mirror, before exiting and heading down to the command center.

********

Princess Sally sat at her writing desk, facing the window, in her hut. Outside it was strangely quiet. It had been ever since the day Robotnik died in the middle of their village. The day Sally had stabbed him under the spell of Casssar and by Snively’s command. The day the villagers had been brainwashed. The day Cu Chulainne had wiped their minds of the incident to purge any guilt they would carry.

Dear Journal,

This place has been like hell, lately. A few days ago, we buried the villagers who had died fighting Robotnik. But we didn’t bury him. Not yet. Nobody has touched HIS body yet. Nobody wants to! But I’m going to have a meeting about it today. Because well...the smell.

She looked out the window then, seeing that tarp-covered form. Robotnik was still where he lay. The blood had seeped into the ground. She imagined nothing would grow there now.

The blood had disappeared but his body remained, and no one dared lift the tarp to look, or even came within five feet of the corpse.

And Gods! The smell. At first the corpse had laid there, all nice and quiet and not bothering anybody.

Except for the look of it. That was unsettling. Bloodied flesh, stabbed and bitten and mutilated, and entrails dangling from a torn stomach. Someone had grabbed a tarp and thrown it over. So they didn’t have to look anymore. And that was fine for a few days.

But the days had been warm in this beautiful late summer and that had taken a toll on the dead flesh. It began to deteriorate, as it should, and as it rotted, it began to stink. Such a stench...it was sweet, but in a sick stomach-churning way. Heavy. It hovered like a cloud and wafted on the air currents until the entire village could smell it.

It’s so horrible. And I did it. I know...I’ve rambled about this already, right? But I can’t get over it. It’s too awful. And the villagers hate me now. They don’t get it...they think I’m a freak. But they were under a spell too! They should know it’s not my fault.

And it’s not just about the villagers. I know that... but...

It’s Sonic. He’s been acting so strangely around me. He doesn’t trust me. He just doesn’t understand, because he doesn’t know about the Source! If he did...if I could tell him everything... but Daddy says we can’t. It’s like this big family secret or something.

I think they think I brought Robotnik to the village... They think I’m a witch.

I don’t know what to do.

A waft of air brought the smell into her room. She sat, breathing in the stench, and then the familiar look of resolve came into her eyes, hardening her gaze into steel. She closed the journal with a snap and stood up.

‘This isn’t a time to mope with words...

I have to take action.’

She looked out the window at the tarp. The first thing to do was to obliterate the constant reminder...to finally dispose of Robotnik’s body. They had a new life now, and it was time to start accepting it.

*********

“Does this city ever see the sun?”

Casssar thought she might peer out the window for days and never see a spark of light, never see the gray clouds turn red or purple from sunset. Sometimes the wind stirred them about, but never seemed to open a gap to the sky.

“It’s always nighttime here,” said Snively. He had entered a few minutes ago, dressed in his normal gray attire. He looked tired as he seated himself in the green throne that formerly had belonged to his Uncle. “I barely remember what sunlight looks like.”

“We only saw it a few days ago,” she laughed.

Yes, sunlight, and blood.

And guilt. And ecstasy.

And Uncle! And Uncle’s hand around his neck, choking him! Snively gasped and his hand flew to his throat. He could feel the blood burning him.

“When we...killed Julian,” he said, stammering. “We did see it then, the day he died. But I didn’t really notice it...” He cocked his head, looking at her with eyes like a frightened child. “All I could see was the blood.”

“Blood,” said Casssar, with a devious smile, pretending not to acknowledge that fear-filled gaze. “I like blood...”

Snively’s lip quirked half-heartedly. “Yes, but this wasn’t good. It was...it was just sick.”

Casssar turned back to the window, hunting futilely for that ray of light, and finding none. “Are you sorry he is dead?”

Could he say that? Did he feel that?

Snively reached a hand, gingerly, as if probing a wound, into the dark pit inside himself. There was blood once again, blood. Thorns, barbed wire and ripped flesh, maggots feeding off the decay. There were black holes and stagnant pools. There was so much *disease* inside him, and who had planted the virus? Who had infected him?

Julian.

Julian, Julian, Julian.

And so those fingers probed for thoughts of Julian, and he found everything, he found everything...bitter hate, the choking anger, the terror, the ecstasy upon death, the sweet taste of revenge. Guilt, horrid guilt. He found everything, even sick misguided love and broken trust, fragments of adoration and the naïve coveting of a child.

He found it all but one thing.

Regret, remorse, sadness.

“No. I’m *glad* he’s dead.”

“Yes,” the ermine nodded, her finger sliding along the glass, tracing his reflection. “I thought as much.” She looked over her shoulder, teeth glimmering in her black face. “I am pleased too.”

The smile returned to his lips and this time it stayed, and transmuted, turning into something lewd.

Casssar loved it, and a purr leapt from her throat.

“We did it together, Cass.” He sprawled lazily in the massive throne. Her eyes swept over his lithe body, the small slip of pale stomach she glimpsed when his shirt rode up.

“Indeed we did, Black Flower,” she turned her back to the window, and back upon it she leaned, stretching, luxuriously. The overhead lights played across her silken fur, catching in her narrowed eyes as her lips pursed, blowing him a kiss.

Snively’s eyes darkened from pale blue to dark...murky, like grit stirred up under a clear lake. Sudden lust made his breath quicken and his fingers tighten on the armrest.

“We can do *anything* together, Black Flower.”

“Anything...” His voice was husky. “Come here, Cass. Show me one of those anything’s...”

Another purr came from the slinky lady, and she danced her body over the floor and to the command chair.

“Computer,” said Snively, his voice still caught in that drowsy raspy lilt, his eyes locked on Casssar’s olive green stare as her face leaned towards his...

“...Dim the lights.”

*********

Sonic was talking to Tails when Sally found him. He held her eye as she approached, his mouth moving as he spoke to the young fox, and then, as Sally reached him, Tails slipped away.

Sonic gave her a smile that was so slight, she could barely justify calling it a smile. But at least it was something.

“Hi Sonic.”

“Hi Sal.”

He shuffled his feet. “So uh...how’s it going?”

“Fine...” She said.

There was a long awkward pause, so unfamiliar to them both. It had never been like this before. This tension between them...this feeling of being strangers, somehow.

Finally he stole a cautious look at her, his brow crinkling. “You look...”

“What?”

“Serious.”

“Don’t I always?”

The hedgehog smiled. This time it was fuller, more genuine. “You look like you’re really thinking up something.”

“It’s about...” The squirrel faltered, and then finally swung her arm in the general direction of Robotnik’s corpse. “...*that*. Something has to be done about...it...”

Sonic looked over too, keeping his gaze there, not looking at her. She saw him gulp. “Yeah...yeah, that’s just...mondo bad.” He nodded a bit too vigorously. “Are you gonna call a meeting?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think that’s best.” She tentatively reached her hand out towards him, then drew it back to herself as he finally looked her way . “Um...maybe you can tell everyone. We can have it,” she glanced at the sky, “At four?”

“Sounds great,” he mumbled, and then, his eyes shone forlorn as she backed away and fled the spot with quick striding steps.

********

She went down to the pool. Considering it was a rather warm day, it was surprising to find the place deserted. The waters were still, not one ripple, not one leaf falling to mar the pristine surface.

It should’ve seemed peaceful, but relaxation was the furthest from Sally’s mind. Instead, she was tense, picking her way over the rocks to the opposite end of the pool. A rock wall rose up; most people didn’t come to this side of the pool unless they intended to dive off the rocks and swim in the deeper part of the water.

The bushes here were thick, concealing this section of ground from anyone standing at the other side of the pool, and for that, Sally was thankful.

Nevertheless, she still cast a hunting glance all around, even scanning the treetops. She raised a finger to the top of a crack in the wall. Downwards she drew the finger, following the crack, until she reached the bottom, where she exerted firm pressure with her three inner fingers.

The rock beneath her fingers slid inwards, and with a slight grinding noise, a small doorway slid open in the stone. She entered quickly and the door shut behind her.

Before her lay a cavernous space; a hidden cave within the cliff wall. The ground was flat gray stone, littered with a few boulders here and there, but, covering most of the ground surface of the cave was a glimmering pool.

This was not water. It shone a swirled gold and silver; and its composition was thicker...it glowed and illuminated the walls around her.

A Source pool...the Acorn Source pool.

Only she and her father knew of it. Or were supposed to know. Some time ago, Snively, and his new companion, the slinky Casssar, had also discovered it.

That had led to Snively’s discovery of something even more sacred in his eyes: Knothole.

And his Uncle had come at his Nephew’s bidding...and the Nephew had slated his doom.

But...Sally gulped and tried to force the image away...of her own hand bearing down, dealing the final blow to the Overlord of Robotropolis.

She should be proud, maybe, at finally bringing an end to Robotnik’s reign.

But it didn’t seem just. It didn’t seem...right...

She walked towards the pool; it illuminated her body. Above the pool, a ball of soft white light floated. She felt comforted by it, understood. She reached her hand towards the glow...

*******

The glow...

Snively closed his eyes. He could still see the glow, even then.

Red, a horrific red. Not because it was the color of blood, or denoted emergencies. It was the red of his Uncle’s eyes.

Casssar was kissing him...beautiful sensual kisses all along the curve of his slender neck. He tilted his head back, eyes half-closed and hazy, his hands ruffling the fur as he stroked her sides. She had a little more meat on her than he did; he couldn’t feel her ribs as readily as she could feel his, poking out through the fabric of his uniform. He was often worried his body repulsed her, but Cass insisted she enjoyed the feel of his bones.

“You feel...real...” She said, one time, trying to explain. “You have a structure...”

“Maybe so...but nobody wants to see the foundation of a house when they live in it. They want to see walls. Pretty decorated walls.”

“I like the base form of things,” she said somberly, and traced her finger along the prominent ridge of his collarbone.

Now she was breathing against his neck, so moist and warm. Her hand was stroking his thigh and he felt frantic butterflies in his stomach. “You are beautiful, Black Flower,” she hissed.

“Don’t be ridiculous...” he sighed, with a bit of a stammer in his voice. Her hands were making it awfully difficult to think straight. “You’re the b-b-beautiful one...”

She laughed, a low purring sound. That only elevated his stupor; Gods, the woman melted him like ice cream under the hot sun. This sort of brainlessness, this lack of clarity, was usually a thing for him to scoff at; right now, though, he was enjoying it thoroughly.

She was a tease, so slow and sly in her movements, her fingers crawling spider-like up his slender thighs, and onto his waist, playfully avoiding any sensitive areas in between, even though his baited breath and eyes, half-lidded and sultry, were insisting she explore them...

But he happened to move his head, and see across the room, where the enormous computer console stretched out. The place where he had spent so many waking hours. It was darkened, except for some glowing lights.

He intook a breath.

Two lights, side by side.

Glowing red.

Red.

EYES.

HIS EYES, STARING, STARING, WAITING.

Snively jerked upright. His breath was torn and a sudden hard shudder racked his body.

“Hmmm?” Question flashed in Casssar’s olive green eyes.

He tried to shrug the chill off.

“Nothing. Ah, just a cramp in my leg.”

“In your leg...” she purred throatily. “Or somewhere else?”

The lights seemed to glow brighter. He turned his head, staring at Casssar’s lips, which were smiling, felt his head swim as she attempted to massage the imaginary cramp that was ‘somewhere else’.

He thought suddenly, with a jolting sick lurch of his stomach, of the maggots crawling on Julian in his dream. Casssar’s fingers, they wiggled into the top of his pants like black snakes, or...or...

The red lights blurred, they gained twins in his eyes as he stared at them so intently they doubled. He heard whispering...and felt sweat break...was that Casssar’s voice? Or HIS...?

“Beautiful...”

“...to see you die... to see you ROT, Snively...”

“...black...”

“...to see you in the ground, decaying in the darkness, with just my hands on your neck for company, with just the stench of MY blood in your SOUL, Snively!”

“...flower.”

“Uhnnn....No!” A ragged childish whimper squeezed past his lips and he wrapped arms around Casssar; she had grown to be not only his love, but his shield as well, his protector. She could beat back Julian, couldn’t she?

But he’s DEAD. He’s DEAD, damn you!

Casssar mistook his whimper for pleasure; a chuckle shook her body and she continued her massaging. He could barely think, breathe, talk, with the two forces pulling at him; terror and ecstasy... Where they that close? Those two emotions – both pushed a person to an edge, a vast cliff with hidden things at the bottom, deep water. He wanted to dive into one. And the other...he wanted to run...and he wiggled, trying to get away from Casssar. So he could run.

Run from those glowing red eyes...and those hands reaching...

“God...NO!”

Now Casssar understood. That something was amiss. “What’s wrong?”

She turned to eye the room behind her, seeing nothing, nothing but glowing lights and darkness. She focused on the lights.

Yellow, blue and...red. RED. She turned back abruptly, seizing him by the shoulders. “He’s DEAD.”

Snively was struck – backhanded with killing force – by recollection. Cu Chulainne. It had brought back Sally...when he’d killed HER. It had brought back himself...from the DEAD. He tasted bile in his throat, his eyes shining with terror-born tears as he stared at Casssar. “IS he?” It came out as a squeak. “IS HE?!”

“Yes.” Casssar’s eyes saw the carnage just as Snively’s did; the Overlord of Robotropolis on his back where he’d fallen, torn, stabbed, laid open, eyes glazed. Limp. Lifeless. Life-LESS.

Dead as dead can be.

“No man could live through that.”

Snively rested his head on her shoulder, embracing her again. The feel of her heart calmed him. “He isn’t...*wasn’t*...a man. He was a demon.”

“Then he has returned to his hell.” Her breath was warm on the top of his head. She traced the curves of his ear with her fingertip. “He is GONE, Black Flower.”

“Yes...I...” Snively’s eyes strayed again to the console in the dark, its two red lights still glowing.

Just lights, they were just lights.

“...I believe you.”

But...they still looked like eyes.

****

The light floated to Sally’s fingertips. It spoke to her with a rich voice, both gentle and booming. This was Cu Chulainne, the purifier of the Source, and the strange entity had made itself a home in the cavern that housed the Acorn Source Pool. Sally and It had become friends...as much as one could be friends with an entity.

-Hello, Sally.-

“Hello, Cu.”

Sally sighed, and sank onto one of the large boulders by the pool side. “I’m tired of this, Cu.”

-Of what, Sally?-

“Of keeping this a secret...keeping YOU a secret. It makes everything so hard to explain...when I have to cover up the truth. Sonic doesn’t even trust me anymore...Sonic!”

-He has deep affection for you. He will not throw that aside easily.-

Sally was quiet, dipping the toe of her boot into the pool. The thick liquid did not cling to her foot. She gave a half-hearted kick, then sighed again. “Cu...how do you know? You’ve never...well...touched Sonic.”

-I see him through you.-

“Oh.” Her muzzle crinkled. “Then you only see my hope for him. *My* feelings for him.”

-He rubs off on you. I do not just read your thoughts...I read the essence he has left.-

This thought put Sally into a silent state as she contemplated. She knew, deep down, that for Sonic to abandon her, it would require an act on her part that was so atrocious, so horrible, that even she would not be able to cope, to continue living.

Killing Robotnik with her bare hands, plunging the knife into his chest? It was horrific.

But he was their mortal enemy. It was still murder...but...if anyone deserved murder...it was Robotnik. Sonic would not leave her for that.

She supposed Cu was right. It put her more at ease. “But I still wish I didn’t have to deceive him,” She mummered.

The light glowed softly. It understood.

A frown crinkled the Princess’s brow. Cu’s words echoed again in her head. ‘He rubs off on you.’ It struck her suddenly. “Does...can...you read anyone *else* on me, Cu?”

-Yes.-

“Well, who?” She was immensely curious, and a little queasy. Anyone could leave their essence on her? Like a greasy fingerprint marring her soul forever...was that what it was?

-All your close friends. Your father, And the dead evil one. The small one and the dark woman.-

Robotnik has a mark on me? She shuddered. And Snively....and Casssar...? “What does...what does Snively’s essence say?”

He was their new enemy now, as far as she knew. He was in the city, perched on the throne, following in his Uncle’s footsteps. With Casssar. But they hadn’t *done* anything since that day. Maybe...maybe he was satisfied with his Uncle’s death...maybe he would leave them alone.

-He is jumbled. I sense admiration.-

Sally snorted.

-I sense hate and resentment. He is definitely an enemy, with a potential to change. To become worse.-

“No surprise.”

-Or better.-

Sally’s frown deepened. “I doubt that, Cu. Not by himself.” She didn’t mention Cu Chulainne’s desire to heal Snively...that day when she’d killed Robotnik. She’d stopped Cu, she told It ‘NO’, because she wanted the demons that tormented Snively to drive him to madness, to drive him to suicidal despair. He deserved to suffer. He didn’t deserve to be saved, or healed. “He’s...beyond repair...”

-That is not true.-

But Sally didn’t want to discuss it further. She stood up. “I still wish...I could just tell everyone,” she steered the subject back to her current dilemma. “I don’t see-“

Just then, the soft rumble of the hidden door alerted her to another presence. She whirled around, though it could be only one person.

And it was he. King Acorn, cape dragging upon the smooth floor, stepped into the basking glow of the Source Pool and its protector. “Ah, Sally. I expected to find you here.”

“Daddy.” She greeted him with the question nagging her mind. “Why can’t we tell about this place?”

He was at the edge of the pool, the light bathing his face silver and gold. “I’ve told you before, Sally, this is a secret place of the Royal Family. No one outside our family can know of it! Even you, my dear, were not to know of it so soon.”

“But what about Sonic? I can’t even tell him?”

“No, I am afraid not.”

“But...but he...” She gulped. “He’s part of our family.”

He shook his head gently. “Your love for him does not mean he is a part of the family. I am sorry.”

She mused wildly about running to Sonic, about marrying him. Just so she could bring him here and show him. “But he *will* be, in the future, daddy! He WILL be.”

“He isn’t NOW, Sally. I’m sorry.” His tone had gotten a bit sharper; heeding the end of the conversation. Sullenly, his daughter kicked at the pool again. She was not one who gave up easily, but neither was her father. The stubborn clashing of their wills would get them nowhere.

“Well, alright, then,” she finally said, changing the subject. “I’ve...well...I’m planning to have a meeting today. To discuss Robot- the body. What to do with the body.”

“Ah,” the king nodded. “It *is* becoming a bit of a problem. It was thinking of holding a meeting about that as well.”

“Daddy?” she was hesitant, staring down at the Source. “What do you think about me...about what I did?”

“I think nothing. They were not your actions.”

She was silent; he continued. “And what do you think of me? I was powerless. I did nothing to stop Snively from calling that monster Julian.”

“You couldn’t...” She understood his point immediately. “Casssar’s magic wouldn’t let you.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, my dear, but just knowing that doesn’t make it easier. For *either* of us.”

She leaned her head upon his hand. “It’s hard to think...that there are times when you can’t *do* anything.”

The King was quiet. There was a deep sadness in his aura. Even without the insight of Cu Chulainne, Sally could feel it. She thought...anybody within three miles of him could feel it, like great undulating waves of sorrow rolling off of him...

“Yes, my child, I *know*. Sometimes, I think I know that better than *anyone*.”

They both stood for a long while, not talking, both lost in thoughts of their own misgivings and weaknesses...but both understanding they shared these feelings. That they weren’t *alone*.

Finally Sally pulled away. “Well...I’d better get going...the meeting will be on soon...”

It was still not for a few hours, but she wanted out of the cavern; it was the epitome of her problems suddenly. But no, that wasn’t really it...it was just the deceit, the deceit to Sonic, that nagged at her conscience. This place was the answer she couldn’t give, the truth she couldn’t reveal.

Or maybe I can... A sly thought came as she exited the cavern.

She made her way through the bushes. Still, the pool lay empty. The water was calm and she debated taking a swim. Letting that cool liquid soothe her, float her despair away. Ah, it sounded so good...

She stripped off her vest and laid it upon the large log, and she had gotten her boots off, smiling as her toes sank into the cool mud, when she heard a rustling in the nearby bushes.

She looked towards the sound; whoever it was tried unsuccessfully to conceal their presence, but they were making too much noise, cracking sticks and scuffling on the leaves.

“Alright, who’s over there?” she asked, annoyed at her tranquility being disturbed.

There was a little yelp, and out of the foliage tumbled Tails, his fur stuck with twigs and thorns, and his gloved paw rubbing at his eye.

“Oh, hi there, sweetie,” the squirrel greeted. “Are you coming for a swim?”

“Uh no,” the kit said, standing briskly and brushing himself free of the debris. “I was just...uh...looking for mushrooms.” He sprinted away up the path and Sally closed her mouth; she’d been all set to ask if he knew what ones were safe to eat, and how to tell – then she turned back to the pool.

Somehow, the water didn’t look as enticing. She felt unsettled. With a shrug, she waded out anyway...she had time to kill after all.

*******

**Inside the head of Mobius’s most way past cool hedgehog, Sonic!**

He didn’t have much to tell me. I wasn’t disappointed in him, though. I didn’t really *want* there to be anything to tell.

“Hey, it’s ok, lil bro, that’s what I thought anyway. There’s nothin’ wrong with ole Sal.”

Tails smiled, but it looked troubled. “Cool!” Then his voice reflected his face, worried. “But...but what could be wrong with Aunt Sally, Sonic? She’s not a robot clone, is she?”

Boy, was that kid paranoid about robot clones. He’d been the only one, all that time ago, to know about the fake Sally Robotnik had built. He was a smart kid, he really was. Robotnik was stupid though. It sure fooled us, but he never tried it again. I would’ve, if I were him. Not that I want to be like old lard-butt, but I sure would’ve tried it again.

But he didn’t. This Sally wasn’t a fake. She defiantly wasn’t. “No way! She’s Sally, alright! I’m just a little worried about her, is all, ya know? She’s probably still a little stressed after what happened.”

“Yeah,” the kit nodded, looking cheery again. He always took my word as a definite truth. Sometimes that bothered me. I know, I’m *nearly* perfect, but not totally. Sometimes, I screw up. I don’t want to let him down, or anyone else, for that matter. But I will sometime. I just know I will...it can’t be helped.

I want to tell him that, but I can’t, because he’s so *hopeful*. He’s still so innocent.

“Yeah,” Tails repeated. “She seems ok to me.”

I patted him on the shoulder, smiling, but inside I felt really funny. Like I might cry or something. “That’s the spirit.”

“Should I keep following her?”

“Oh sure, if you want,” I said it very nonchalant; I was really trying to swallow this odd lump in my throat.

I just wanted to believe Sally was really ok. She killed Robotnik; she’s never killed anything before, not on purpose. I know, it was Robotnik. I would’ve killed him too, to protect Knothole. It still marks her, though....it makes her different to me.

Oh...I waved to Tails and ran off quickly, because the lump was choking me. She’s different, but she’s still the same. I *want* her to be the same old Sal, more than anything, more than I ever wanted Robuttnik dead, even.

Speaking of Robuttnik... I checked my watch. It was about time to set up the meeting. Once we got rid of stinky old Buttnik, maybe stuff would get better.

I kept running, my vision starting to blur. It wasn’t raining though.

Please, just let it get better.

******

The meeting was postponed for two hours, because people were slow in coming, and Sonic couldn’t find everyone. Geoffrey (Sonic didn’t care if he showed or not) had been out with Hershey, Bunnie, and one of his MPs, a badger named Tory. They filtered into the café’ just as Sonic announced they would be holding the meeting over dinner.

Sally wasn’t sure if discussing Robotnik’s corpse while they were eating was a good idea, but here they were.

She was quite sure the texture of Sonic’s bowl of chili (a crumbly red) and the bowl of rice would take on disgusting traits, like bloody meat and wiggling maggots.

She tried to push that thought away; still, she refused a portion of either dish.

“Alright,” she said, after everyone had settled down, loathe to bring up the subject. “As you know, we’re here to talk about...” she fumbled, “...the...the body. It’s been lying there for far too long. Something has to be done about it.”

“Oh oui, oui, mah Princess,” said Antoine from the end of the table. “The smell, it is making me swoon whenever I am smelling it!” the fox wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“It’s really gross!” agreed Tails and Dulcy nodded.

“It’s about bloody time, luv,” Geoffrey was eating some of the chili mixed with rice. The combination made Sally’s mouth twist.

“Me and Tory were jus’ talking about it today. It ain’t healthy, that’s for sure. Surprised we ain’t all got bloody sick yet.”

Some of the villagers seated at the table in the corner where muttering and casting glances at Sally. She thought she saw one’s mouth form the words ‘crazy’ and the others nodded. She cleared her throat and hailed an arm at them. “You have a suggestion over there?”

They all looked nervous, gulping, and one of the women shakily responded. “Ah...uh...no Your Highness.”

Sally let out a sigh. “Well, come on, people, don’t be shy. This isn’t just a Freedom Fighter problem, it’s *all* of ours.”

Geoffrey grinned very deviously, elbowing Tory. “Let’s chop ‘im up and eat ‘im.”

Tory sniggered. “He’d last a few months. Maybe years!”

There were groans and gags all around. Sally tapped her fork against the tabletop, features twisting in annoyance. “Boys, *serious* suggestions only!”

“I was being serious...” Geoffrey chortled as he shoveled another heap of the chili-rice combo into his mouth.

“Well, how about we throw him in the lake? Or the pool?” Tory suggested.

Antoine stared at his water glass, beginning to shudder as images flooded him. He pictured a night guarding the pool, and he lay there as usual, yawning, waiting for the ring. The waters rippled, disturbed from underneath, but no golden ring came from the depths. It was a robotic hand, grasping, covering in slime and grit. Moving like a shark towards him, reaching for him...

He let out a squeal and shook his head violently. “Non, NON! We cannot be doing that!”

“What are you whining about now?” Geoffrey growled. Sonic scoffed.

Tails and Dulcy wore similar expressions of horror. They also saw the terror of Robotnik’s corpse, pursuing them, devouring them as they swam in their beloved pool. They squealed along with Antoine, joining his protests.

“No way! I could never swim there again with HIM in the water!”

“I hardly think that’s healthy,” agreed Sally. “Dumping a rotting corpse...” She had to look away from Geoffrey and Sonic’s meals, “Into such a small body of water? It would contaminate our supply. Not to mention...” She nodded at Tails and Dulcy, “It’s just a repulsing thought, I agree.”

“Well, excuse me,” Tory rolled his eyes.

“How about...” said the woman who’d stammered earlier, “How about we just bury the body?”

It was the most obvious solution, but Tails, Dulcy and Antoine still looked less than thrilled. That robotic hand could rise from dirt as easily as it could through water.

For some reason, the idea didn’t take with Sally either. It just seemed...wrong...somehow, to place such an enemy of the planet *itself* into the ground, like planting a tainted seed, spreading a cancer. Nothing would grow there. She just *knew* nothing would grow there again.

Sonic spoke for the first time; the hedgehog had been strangely quiet regarding the disposal of his arch nemesis. Sally eyed him with a crease of worry on her brow. Several times she’d heard him slip. He’d started talking about ‘How we gonna bring ole Buttnik down today?”...and then, after a moment’s pause, his face blushed. “Oh right. He’s dead.”

“Let’s burn the bastard. I don’t want him in our ground. He doesn’t really deserve that, yo.”

Sally twiddled her fork absently on her plate (she hadn’t yet touched her food), watching him, puzzled by the constraint in his voice – it was empty of the fierce emotion he usually displayed towards Robotnik.

“I mean,” he cast a sidelong glance at Sally, “You don’t want to give him a marker, do you? What – ‘here lies Robotnik, the most evil dude ever who ruined all our lives’? He shouldn’t have anything. He shouldn’t be remembered.”

Everyone was watching the blue hedgehog; he began to stir his chili around, his nostrils flaring. Sally felt the need to say something profound, to let Sonic know she heard his words. But she could only think of a rebuke. “Some things *need* to be remembered. So we learn.”

“We shouldn’t remember him,” repeated Sonic stubbornly, his head bowed.

Tails let out a little whimper. He was short enough to see Sonic’s expression as he slid alongside his idol’s chair.

Geoffrey looked savage, as if an epiphany had hit him...he leaned forward and snarled, rice spraying from his mouth. “I don’t think you *want* to forget, spineball! You ain’t anything special now, are you? You wish he was still alive, don’t you? You bloody HERO!!”

Sonic shot out of his chair like a spring, hurtling over the table and at Geoffrey. The skunk and chair toppled, his dish went clattering onto the floor. The two combatants were oblivious, rolling over into the spilled food. Sally had a horrific vision of gore and maggots wiggling upon their fur. Geoffrey picked up a piece of broken plate and attempted to hit Sonic with it; Sonic punched it away. It nearly struck Tails as it flew into the air – the kit ducked right in time.

“You shut it, St. Stink! You think I want him alive, after what he did?!” Sonic snarled, grappling at Geoffrey’s face.

“No Robotnik means no need for yer damn speed anymore! And you know it!” Geoffrey landed a hard punch to Sonic’s cheek.

They were wrenched apart violently, and held tightly – the sputtering Sonic by Bunnie - and Geoffrey, frothing, by Rotor. The walrus, despite his bulk, found it hard to keep the skunk restrained.

“Sit down!” Bunnie growled and roughly pushed Sonic into his chair. Rotor held Geoffrey a second later, then released him. The skunk took his seat without a word. He didn’t bother to pick up his plate.

“There’s never gonna be anyone like him again,” Sonic sounded like he was on the verge of tears. To cover it, he began to eat, his eyes gleaming with anger...and other things.

Sally knew Geoffrey was right, in some sense. Not all for selfishness Sonic’s fear was...but the fear too, of fading into uselessness. She felt her eyes sting with a rush of water and salt – she blinked it away. They’d spent their lives fighting. It was too hard to picture it otherwise, to picture one’s use when the war finally ended. Even though they’d all dreamed about this, hoped for this.

There was a tense period of silence, well mostly silence. The group in the corner were whispering again, along with some of the other tables. Sally took a drink, reluctant to draw attention back to herself – and Sonic.

Finally she cleared her throat, loudly, and stood up. “So...yes, fire. That’s what I was thinking too, but I wanted everyone’s opinion. Since he was an enemy so near and dear to all our hearts...” Her words tainted with sarcasm, trailed off, because the group in the corner were staring at her, and Sonic had even lifted his head to gaze at her. She felt her cheeks flame; her body chill.

His heart. Robotnik’s. If he had one. Emotionally he didn’t, physically, he had...and Sally had taken a knife and stabbed him through it. That’s how he’d finally died, with Sally hurling her full body weight behind that dagger, rending him open. Sonic had seen her, Tails, Antoine, they’d all seen her. Seen their noble Princess in savage murderous glory, stabbing at Robotnik like a psychopath.

She choked and nearly sat down.

It wasn’t MY fault, she wanted to cry. I was under a SPELL! I couldn’t stop myself! He was going to die anyway, because all of YOU ripped him apart, you clawed, and bit, and chewed him up, you punched and broke, mauled and mutilated him...YOU ALL DID IT.

What I did was trivial compared to that, and yet, I understand...I understand that you couldn’t help it, you were ensnared. Can’t you do the same for ME? Can’t you give me the same honor, the same forgiveness?!

But she didn’t. She tossed her hair, and frowning, continued on as if the stares didn’t matter. “Do we all agree to burn the body? A show of hands will do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, everyone in the room raised their hands. Sally stuck hers in the air as well, nodding. “Ok. Alright then. We’ll do it... tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Why not?” The young Princess sighed. “It’s been put off long enough.”

“Tonight, everyone,” said Sonic in a loud tone, commanding the room’s attention.

“I think it’s important to attend. So we can put this all behind us. So we can...can...*accept* what’s in the past, and move on.” And Sally sat down, and finally ate her meal, silently. The rest of the villagers returned to their whispering and eating.

King Acorn, looking as if he knew exactly what had occurred at the meeting, finally entered and helped himself to a bowl of chili.

Sally leaned forward as her father raised his spoon to his mouth. “The body is going to be burned...tonight.”

*******

Sometimes Casssar thought Death wasn’t the enemy, the ultimate betrayer of Life.

Sometimes, she mused, her eyes on the Black Flower, who was sleeping in the throne, his face haunted even in sleep, sometimes she thought that was the whole purpose. That everything in Life lead to Death. Death WAS the goal. But the more pain, the more love, the more joy, the more knowledge one gathered before passing the better. The better to enter the doorway.

Snively twitched on the throne, his long fingers curling, his mouth forming a word, like a silent ‘no’. He was changing, Casssar realized, slowly into something else. It was oh-so-subtle but it was there.

Death is the goal. You can’t rush it. It’s of its own accord. It’s CHANGE. Not a killing of life, a *change*.

From larvae to chrysalis to butterfly, from seed to bud to blooming rose...every time they change, they DIE. What they were is dead.

Snively jerked awake with a little shriek, staring across the room with wraiths in his eyes, clutching him – changing him oh-so-subtly.

Those beautiful blue eyes had gone to chrysalis.

Casssar felt pain inside her chest, like a bullet had rended her heart.

She suddenly hated Death with all her might.

********

The moon was sickle-shaped and a light wind had kicked up over Knothole. More than half the village milled around the bonfire pit, most of them looking like they wished they hadn’t come.

Doctor Quack was sporting a black version of his lab coat...his idea of a joke, Sally guessed. His nurse Bessie was clinging to his arm.

King Acorn struck up a fire with the help of Dulcy. Tails brought kindling, and soon there was a hearty blaze lighting up the dark.

The villagers mumbled uneasily as a grumbling Geoffrey and Tory pulled back the trap covering Robotnik’s body to peep under. Tory gagged. Geoffrey tried futilely to wave the stench away. “Blimey! He’s *ripe*, ain’t he?”

Sally wanted to hold her nose, but it would look undignified, but Tails and Dulcy didn’t care. They clamped paws over muzzles and backed away.

“Bloody hell, just about every bug in the Great Forest is in here-“

“ENOUGH, Geoffrey!” snapped the Princess. “Please, just get him...it...into the fire.”

Tory grabbed hold of Robotnik’s metal arm...it was probably the only part free of insects...and tugged. But even deteriorated Robotnik’s body was a massive weight. The badger grunted and gave up. “We’re gonna need some more hands to move this.”

Reluctantly, Sonic stepped forward. King Acorn and Rotor followed. Bunnie wrinkled her nose and joined them. “Alright, how’s about we roll ‘im into the fire?”

They did so, trying to keep the tarp in place. Even with Bunnie’s strength, it was a difficult task. They grunted and struggled, finally getting the body to roll. It took four rolls to get the body to the fire, all the while beetles and maggots spilled out from under the tarp, and the stench was almost unbearable.

“I’m gonna have to burn my gloves after this,” Sonic complained. Bunnie’s eyes were watering.

“At least yer wearing gloves!” said Tory.

With a great heave, they moved the corpse into the blaze. The fire smoldered and died down. Geoffrey took a jug of kerosene and sprinkled it over the tarp.

The flames roared up again, but hardly anyone stood by to catch their warmth. There were odd sizzling noises from under the tarp. The smell of burning rotting flesh was hardly appetizing and the tarp itself was throwing off an unpleasant smoke. The shifting winds did little to alleviate the odor.

But nobody left. They stood watching in silence. Sonic stripped off his gloves and threw them into the fire.

The tarp crinkled and distorted, bubbling from the heat, and peeling back to reveal their enemy. Their dead enemy...his sightless eyes, his monstrous hands...hands that had built weapons of destruction, hands that had fashioned machines to kill and enslave, hands that had drawn out plans to cast out their beloved king.

The monarch stood, hands clasped stiffly behind his back. A stoic statue. But his mustache quivered and his eyes held a sheen of wetness.

He cleared his throat gruffly and addressed the roaring flames.

“As you burn...I feel a change in me. As if something in me has died as well. The last of my naivety is in these flames. The rest of my childish thoughts that good can be found in every man. My mercy for deceivers goes with you. I hope you are proud of the changes you have wrought in me,” He spread his large hands, his eyes dangerously close to flooding, “I hope you find some worth in the afterlife for the crimes you committed.”

He turned to Sally, one of those quivering hands rested on her shoulder. “You have no idea how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you. To ALL of you.”

He looked the villagers over in turn, losing the battle against tears. They fell in twin lines down his peach cheek-fur, silent and noble agony for his grievous error, the trusting of Julian that led to the downfall of all their lives. But not a one stared back in accusation, or hate.

“Daddy, we don’t blame you.” Sally put her hand onto her father’s, squeezing his fingers. “Robotnik deceived *everyone*.”

The king nodded. He didn’t believe it.  He should’ve seen, shouldn’t have trusted.

But if they were willing to forgive him, shouldn’t he accept it, outwardly at least? Drowning in self-pity and brooding over past mistakes did no good to his people, as much as he wanted to indulge in the darkness and guilt. He patted his daughter’s hand. “Yes, he did. Deceived us all. Ruined our concept of trust.”

There was silence. King Acorn felt the need to add something positive, a ray of hope. “We have a new chance now, to rebuild and start over. Maybe someday...we can get that concept back.”

With those words, which seemed to hold a ring of untruth to Sally, but encouraged the others, the King retired to his hut. Most of the villagers followed his example and drifted away from the fire, until only a handful remained, along with the core Freedom Fighters.

The winds shifted direction and the pungent smoke washed over them. In a unison movement, everyone moved to the other side of the bonfire. The flames were rising higher now, obscuring the dead tyrant’s body from sight.

Antoine watched them in relief, glad that those eyes weren’t watching him anymore, and then he turned to Bunnie. His eyes were still haunted. He never had faith that the horrors were over, that the horrors could *ever* be over. “What do we do, mon amour, now that he is gone?”

“It’s not all that different, Antoine,” said Bunnie, and Sally’s gaze jolted in her direction. A hard frown touched her young face. How could the rabbot say that?

Was it her arms, her legs? They still consisted of hard cold metal, reflecting the firelight, strangely beautiful. They would get those fixed...somehow...

“Snively’s still alive.” Bunnie acknowledged Sally’s stare, though her own emerald eyes were still focused on her lover. “The fight ain’t over yet.”

Sally was unpleasantly surprised; she’d forgotten about Snively. The tyrant’s nephew – a murderer, betrayer, usurper. Treacherous and icy, he still lived. She knew why she’d forgotten. He was so small and insignificant. She’d never seen him as a threat, before, but now, with Bunnie’s words, she seemed to recall just WHY Robotnik was incinerating in front of them.

It wasn’t all because of Sally, with her enchanted hand and dagger. The order had come from Snively. How odd that she’d forgotten that.

It must be the stress. Worrying over this...’ She stared at the fire, And Sonic. Her eyes strayed to the blue hedgehog; he was talking with Tails. ‘Strange that I forgot the whole reason for this mess.’

‘But I should thank him too. Robotnik IS dead...’

She tried to dredge it up, feelings of joy, happiness, relief, feelings of hope and peace...

They seemed just as fleeting and insubstantial as flesh in flames...

******

*From the be-crowned head of I, Casssar, Queen of Robotropolis*

Two days passed. Every night when he slid from the throne, casting me a wink or perverted smile...I felt fear. I felt fear for him, you see, because I saw fear in his eyes. He was afraid to go to sleep, but he knew sleep was essential...he knew his fears were unfounded, and he wanted to fight it. So he retired, going to his bed...I wanted to conjure magic, place myself alongside him in his dreams and fight with him.

I should’ve. Maybe I should’ve. But I didn’t. I thought infringing on his battle...on this sort of battle...would be arrogant and not my place.

I wonder what he thinks.

Maybe I’ll ask him.

Right now...I just watch him...with fear shining in my eyes.

**

Knothole Village.

On the third day, the fire went out.

They let it go out. Geoffrey and Tory had steadily tended to it, ensuring that the body was fully cremated. When the flames finally died, and the embers finally cooled, they fetched King Acorn.

Sally was with him, and when Sonic saw them headed for the pit, he joined. Tails was loping alongside him. Bunnie and Antoine, nuzzling under a nearby tree, watched curiously.

“Well...the bloke’s finally gone.” Geoffrey nodded his magenta-bereted head towards the ashes. He stirred them up with a stick, then reached down, pulling out two metal cylinders. “A few parts are left...and we wanted to know what to do with ‘em.”

Nestled in Tory’s palms were two round black marbles with red dots...

Robotnik’s synthetic eyes. Geoffrey’s hands bore the tyrant’s artificial ears.

King Acorn picked up the last object left. He had to hold it in both hands.

The roboticized left arm of Julian Ivo Robotnik. It was by far the most disturbing and frightening item. A symbol of his power and cruelty.

Sally felt it wrong to throw these things away. They were horrible, but as she had voiced at the meeting...they MUST be remembered.

King Acorn reflected her thoughts. “Give them to me, St John. I’m going to lock them in a safe place. They are a piece of history...after all...”

The skunk nodded. He and Tory, along with the King, headed for the monarch’s hut.

“Sonic...” Sally said, as the hedgehog started to leave.

He turned back.

“I just want to tell you...” She stared at his bare hands, hanging by his sides. She wanted to hurl herself into his arms, and utter the next words. But she remained where she was, standing rigidly. “That...you’ll never be...useless, Sonic.”

He looked taken aback, and his cheeks flushed. “Er...well...no kidding, Sal!”

She wanted to whisper to him, as she clutched him... ‘I love you...’

He turned to leave again.

“I’m always here...if you need me,” she said...as he ran off.

******

Nightfall came like a funeral shroud, mourning the loss of day. Sally’s invitation to Sonic had gone unheeded; her love had not come to confide in her. Tails had been lurking about her that day, pretending to be nonchalant, but when she called him out and tried to talk to him, he too had retreated.

So, the night was here, and the sky was utterly dark...the cloud covering was thick enough to hide the moonlight. They didn’t move...for it was windless. She left her hut, feeling restless, and wandered the village. She went to the pool, thinking a chat with Cu Chulainne might ease her mind...but she changed her mind as she neared the water’s edge.

When she headed back to her hut, still quite unsettled, she passed by the firepit and its heap of ashes. She was struck by compulsion so strong that she hastened to her abode and began to fumble through her trinkets. A small jewelry box, given to her by Antoine a few birthdays ago, caught her eye. She didn’t own much jewelry so the box was not essential. She snatched it and returned to the pile of ashes.

With trembling hands, she undid the box’s clasp and lifted up lid. Then with hesitation, a moment to wonder why she was doing this, but unable to fight the compulsion, she scooped a handful of ashes into the box. They settled dully in the red velvet interior. Gray and dead and with the scent of burnt human flesh still clinging most vilely.

She sat on her haunches, staring at the crumbled remains, then started upwards. She really ought to leave. If Sonic saw her collecting Robotnik’s ashes, he would REALLY think something was wrong with her.

Half-temped to dump them out, Sally snapped the lid closed and stowed the box away in her hut, in the closet, on the highest shelf. She hoped the sickly smell would not seep through the box into her hut...

She paced, restlessly, and finally sank into bed, but sleep did not overtake her for many hours after...

******

**From the dreaming mind – ensnared in sleep – of Snively Kintobar, Tyrant of Robotropolis**

I stayed in the throne as long as I could. Even after Casssar finally left and went to bed. She cast me this long look before she left. I could see her brow crinkled under her dark fur. She was worried about me. Casssar wasn’t the type to show her concern outright. Kind of like me...

I wanted to tell her, you know, I wanted to whimper and curl in her arms, and beg her to hold me while I slept. But I’ve shown too much weakness in front of her already. I feel...I feel...like I can reveal myself to her...and yet...I don’t want to divulge TOO much. She is to see me as a lover, a friend, a confidant. But not a needy child.

I can fight him off. He’s DEAD.

He sent his blasted spirit into my dreams. I know he did, because Julian couldn’t STAND to see me happy. He has to crush my joy underfoot, stomp it, break it. He was always so skilled at destroying things...

You CAN’T break me NOW, Julian, you fucking DEAD bastard.

I threw this taunt into the mirror, staring at my reflection. Eyes glinted back at me. Cold. They always looked cold, throwing my defenses outwards, a ring of ice surrounding me. It kept some people out. Others...Julian...they took an icepick and smashed through it.

But you CAN’T get me NOW.

I smiled a cruel lopsided grin and turned my back on the mirror.

The lights flickered off, and I slid under the black blanket, the sheets cool on my body. Yes, this would be a beautiful slumber, a time to refresh the body.

I wondered why then...why my heart was pounding so hard.

**

...darkness. I’m engulfed in darkness.

No, NO!

My voice sounds like a squeal. A little piggy ripe for the slaughter.

There’s an odd numb pain in my chest, like someone has just stuck a knife there, and the shock is still hovering over. ...The pain will spill through any minute. I can smell something...strong and rich...and gagging...the smell of copper...copper...

Liquid copper....

Blood.

The pain hits me like a sledgehammer and I screa-

-m Light floods over suddenly, searing my eyes. The only reminder of the previous pain is a dull ache. 

I blink.

I’m in a large room, metal-plated, but the harsh surface is softened by tendrils of ribbons, colorful hanging banners, and balloons. Sparkling confetti is strewn across the floor and floating lazily in the air. I breathe in; the air is pleasant with the smell of cake and fresh fruit.

Is this a celebration then? A table against the wall is laden with food and a bowl of punch. I find myself clad in a suit (quite sharp-looking, if I do say). The guests of this party are odd shadowy figures...I can make out a tuxedo here, and a sequined evening gown there...but the faces are hidden...like obscured behind smoke. I frown...and then my eyes catch the one substantial being.

Casssar. She is moving towards me. Wearing a floor-length red dress, her black hair piled atop her head. A few loose tendrils fall to frame her face.

My heart leaps into my throat and my brow sweats...I blush...there is a swelling inside these dress pants...an agitated, elated gasp for the sight of her. She is beyond beautiful, my Queen...she rips apart clichés of dark goddesses, because SHE is the one true embodiment of the term.

“For you,” she purrs, a sweeping arm indicating the room. “For your glory, Black Flower. We celebrate you. You killed your Master Fear. How many of us can say we’ve done such a feat?”

A man is lurking behind her, and he drapes an arm across her shoulder. He is an ermine like her, but white-furred. He whispers into her ear and I strain to catch the mummered flow of words. I am abashed by the phrases I catch. “...filthy little whore...”

A tear drips down her cheek.

I realize his identity. Her father! I wish I could kill him! I tense my legs to lunge...and blink...and he is gone. A smile spreads over Casssar’s lips.

“Yes...you killed your greatest fear, Castdecass. HIM.” She waves airily to the guests and I eye them, feeling a weird knot in my stomach, like I might vomit. She clasps me by the arm and leads me to the refreshment table. “Let us drink...to celebrate your victory.”

There is something off-putting about her smile. Stale...rotten, somehow...but this is *Cass*. She dips a ladle into the bowl of punch and prepares a glass. She hands the heavy crystal mug to me. The punch is a deep crimson color, and I see my face distorted as I examine it. Cass’s hand touches my arm. She raises her glass.

“A toast...”

We clink the glasses. I tilt it to my mouth, swallow the drink...it is thick and so pungent that I nearly gag. It tastes...like...

“...to the little murderer.”

...death? I cough.

I jerk my head up and stare at Casssar. She is grinning, cruelly, her mouth smeared with the liquid. It’s dripping down her chin and onto her breasts. I can see, behind her, some of the guests coming into focus...

There is Sally and Sonic. They are kissing, and one of his hands is deliberately pouring the punch onto her dress, staining the white fabric scarlet.

“What...what...is this stuff?” I whimper...because my stomach feels like its on fire, and a line is burning down my throat. It’s...I throw down the cup in panic, and it shatters onto the floor. The liquid bubbles when it touches the metal...like acid. It’s...

“Julian’s BLOOD.”

I sputter, spitting out the contents in my mouth.

Casssar drops her glass alongside mine, in a deliberate mimic. “Don’t think I can SAVE you.” ...A shriek escapes her and she melts into a puddle of black sludge. I whimper and kneel down, grabbing at it, but it burns my fingers...