She took a look at the flyer the driver had given her when she had boarded the omnibus.

Her face was all over it.

Enemy of the State

Don’t engage or approach; announce the proper authorities.

She had read worse. Like:

Dangerous Fugitive.

Wanted Dead or Alive.

That was the one who had hurt her the most, the one from the City. Sighing, she stuck her face to the omnibus window. At the next station, she got out. On the street, a police filter, five policemen, and two dogs.

„You’re encroaching my elven rights!”

An elf who had been asked for his ID argued with the police. He was immediately immobilized on the ground.

She smiled, brushed off her hair from her face, and showed her perfectly faked ID.

„What’s in the backpack?” asked a policeman.

„Oh, you know, girl stuff. Or maybe I’m Vellantina Guerrefido in disguise, carrying your king’s head.”

She giggled, and he laughed back, and she lowered her eyes like a shy girl.

„Please, go on, Miss,” invited her the policemen.

Her small studio, rented, was only one tree away. In front of the door, hand on the handle, eyes closed, she took a deep breath. She exhaled, pushed the handle, and entered.

A small prick on her neck. Instant paralysis.

Black caterpillar poison, she thought.

Someone caught her before she fell and put her on the chaise longue.

“Huy… Moum…” she mumbled, her mouth numbed by the poison.

“Thanks, Providence, I’ve arrived in time!” replied Dora. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ve made a deal for you. You’ll be out before you’ll be forty.”

“U’r… tou.. late” she mumbled again. “Kulled… hum… ulready…”

“Goodness,” said Dora. “You’ve killed him? How can I help you now!” she shouted. “How can I save you? How?”

She gathered all her forces to move her head right and left, an inch.

“No… help… Fin…nish… u’r… job…”

Dora began to cry.

“No,…,” she said.

“Then… I’ll… do… it.”

Her mouth was slow, but the right arm was already healed. Suddenly, the gun was in it.

“Goodbye,… mum...”

She was pressing the trigger when everything stopped. She could see her mother’s eyes stuck in surprise; eyelids froze. The dust was still in the air. She knew this sensation…

“Estella?” she asked. She could speak better already.

“Yes,” responded two voices.

Her friend appeared out of thin air, only she was not alone. Two younger girls who looked familiar were there too.

“Don’t kill her!” pleaded her friend. “It will break your heart. And Diago's.”

“Have to,” she replied, rising slowly. “ If not, she’ll hunt me forever.”

“I see the divergences,” talked one of the youngest girls. “In this reality, you’ve let Shindiriel die.”

“We have guests from another reality, Vella. Ourselves, but younger. They were traveling through a tunnel in this very moment and stopped to say hi,” explained the older Estella.

“It is a powerful event. I used some of its energy to make some events on my own.” explained the young Estella. “I came here for my Vella’s sake. I feel your Vella is more powerful than mine; maybe she can help mine become stronger too. Tell us your story.”

“You do not wish for my strength,” bitterly replied the older Vellantina. “It came through terrible hardships. But if you want to hear it, my story is this: I’ve saved Shindiriel, for a moment, then returned to the fight, killing Donarl. But Shindy was stubborn; she followed the beauhemian inside the safe zone and attacked him. He evaded the hit; she tripped and broke her neck. They never believed him that it was an accident, and even if it would not have been, it was his right to defend himself. Shindy's father is the Elven King – Elf-Town mayor for us, said younger Vella – and he moved Realm and Sky to have my skin. Why did you not kill the beauhemian? they’ve said. The elf has… well… had a lot of influence, so…, her voice choked, … so I was arrested when we got back from d’Ornia. Life. I got life, at fourteen, for nothing…”

“Mothers and Father are a little on the politicianist side,” confessed the older Estella.

“Father would disintegrate personally anyone who’d threatened one of his friend’s child,” smirked the youngest Estella. "I see there are more divergences between our realities. You are not a Seer."

"No, but I can do tunnels and slow the time flow," replied her elder self.

“Let me speak, please. I mean her,” asked the younger Vella.

“Next to my cell was the beauhemian, waiting to be executed,” continued older Vella. “He got his prosthetics back, as last wish. With those, using some wires, he opened his cell, then mine. We made a deal. There were more doors and guards. I’ll do the fighting, he’ll do the door opening, we’ll escape together. There were twenty-nine guards in that prison, in total."

“She killed them all,” added older Estella. “In a very gruesome manner, beating them with the beauhemian’s prosthetics.”

“It was the only weapon I had. For years, I was chased by every bounty hunter on the Continent. That's why there are no more bounty hunters on the Continent now. Then, by Dora. But I’ve escaped every time. Estella was hinting and transporting me in secret, Diago, my father, and Sirinn, my lover, joined me; together, we are unstoppable.”

“Seriously? Lover?” asked the little Vella, a little surprised.

“But Dora is unrelenting. So we decided to put an end to it. I issued an ultimatum to the king one month ago: let it go. Take off the bounty, pardon me, or else, today, I will kill you. Yesterday he went out of town to a remote castle, only we already knew which one, Sirinn seduced a maid. We were already there, with machine guns, me and dad. Killed them all, he and his guards. The king’s head is in the backpack; I’ll put it in the central square before I leave. But now, I have Dora here... and if not today, in the end, only one of us will survive. So, I have to do it, kill her, then, me and Diago and Sirinn, we’ll go to the Big South and lose ourselves in those millions of islands. This is my story.”

“Goodness…” sighed the younger Estella. “Terrible story!”

“Impressive,” approved her friend. "So, this is your secret? You've been through hardships and became tougher?"

“Not the only one. I've discovered I can do some magic. You know that Dora is a clone put together by Ernest from the Other genetic material; she is strong like a Centurion, as deadly as an Assassin, and as clever as a Liar. But the Others had an inherent weakness to the Realm's magic and couldn't use it. I am half Realmer. I've inherited Dora's abilities, but I can connect to the Realm's magic as well. My magic power is feeble, but it has a use that makes it formidable: I can enhance my Other abilities with it. I can heal almost instantly, run very fast, hit very hard, and so on. You should try to find this power too."

„Thank you,” bowed the younger Estella. „We have to go.”

„Our pleasure,” bowed the older Estella.

„Moment,” asked the little Vella. „Will you go on, kill her?”

„I don’t know,” sighed the other Vella. “It’s... hard.”

„Absolutely not!” said older Estella. „I forbid it. We’ll manage to find a way to keep her off you. I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll find one!” aked the older brunette girl.

„Hm...” said shortly the younger Vella. A conclusion, not a pondering.

While the other reality was unraveling around her, she took out her gun and shot Dora in the heart just a second before they disappeared.

Behind them, the time-fold event stopped, and Dora collapsed, her hand on her chest.

„It’s all right, dear,” she whispered her last words.

„It was not me!” shouted Vella, kneeling at her side. „Mom, it was not me! Please, Estella, get us to a healer!”

„No one can heal that wound!” sighed the princess. „Heart is destroyed; she’s gone. Come on,” she asked, pulling up her friend. „Leave the elf’s head here, it's too late for theatrics now, and you’re too upset to be safe on your own now. We’ll gather the others, and I’ll tunnel you to the Islands. And I’ll deal with dad afterward. He better listen to me this time or else!”

”