When Cerise stood near the weapons vault, she stared at the impressive doors with a golden lock in its middle. She found herself awestruck, and could only imagine what was inside the treasury itself. Probably a menagerie of weapons, of swords and axes and bows and wands and tomes filled with magic all waiting to be used. She wondered if the weapons themselves were enchanted, or whether Roselle carried a normal rapier and did extraordinary things with them. With a tad of jealousy, Cerise wondered if Roselle ever had to work at anything in her life. She had all the tutors and scholars that she could’ve liked, and lived in a luxurious castle with various riches that could buy a continent ten times over. Despite being pushed by her mother, Roselle lived a life of privilege and she had the attitude of a privileged Princess that believed that everything should fall upon her lap because she was talented and beautiful and graced with all sorts of talents.

Cerise, she decided, hated Roselle’s guts. Roselle shared the same sentiment, apparently, as she sneered down at Cerise when she balked at the treasury.

“Have you lost your wits or guts, Cerise?” Roselle said. “For me to share the Grand Duelist title with you, of all people; a homely little girl with nothing special or extraordinary to her name, that only won through a game of chance! You truly are pathetic, Cerise, and I’m even more pathetic for ‘losing’ to someone like you.”

“You’re simply a spoiled brat that believes everything should go her way,” Cerise said in anger. “I know you noble types; you live a life of privilege and luxury yet you’re still wanting for more. You don’t understand what it’s like to live a life of hardship, because you’ve always had everything handed to you.”

“How dare you say that I have everything handed to me!” Roselle said in astonishment. “I worked HARD for everything that I did.”

“You had everything handed to you,” Cerise said patiently, as though she were lecturing a child. “You were born with privilege.”

“I would like to hear you say that after you’ve heard about my life story,” Roselle said. “But I’m not interested in sharing it with a closeminded girl like you, who believes that just because I’m a princess and part of nobility that everything was just handed to me.”

“Aren’t you living with your mother’s title though?” Cerise said sharply. “You haven’t earned the title Grand Duelist yet, it is a title that you merely claim so that you can intimidate others with it and throw around your weight and pretend that you’re better than everyone else just because you have a little talent.”

“You’re selling me short,” Roselle said with a sniff. “There’s no shame in having pride in your talents when you actually have the skills to back it up. But you, you didn’t even challenge me to a proper duel! A simple child’s game that is won based off of luck rather than skill.”

“Then why did you challenge me to do it?” Cerise asked. “You could’ve just said no and kept your perfect record. Then you wouldn’t be forcing me into marriage and then insisting that I have to listen to you and be your lover.”

Roselle stamped her foot.

“You’re most infuriating! Whatever, we’re going into the treasury to retrieve a weapon for you; so you’re not completely useless, at least.”

The comment stung. The little barb that Roselle threw at her dug deep into her skin, and her skin crawled from Roselle’s words. “Take that back.”

“I never go back on my word,” Roselle said with a smirk. “I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. You, Cerise de Vernase, are not a wife that is befitting of me. You didn’t do anything for the chimera except cower like a timid mouse under the shadow of a cat.”

“I knew its weak point,” Cerise said in a cold tone. The Queen cut them off, however.

“As much as I find your animosity very entertaining, there’s no need to insult one another and bring one another down,” The Queen said. “Also, Roselle, I updated the security in the vault; I’m sure that you’ll like the surprise that I have waiting for you within.”

Roselle gave a perplexed look towards her mother. “A surprise? I’m not fond of your surprises very much, Mother.”

The Queen let out tinkling laughter, before saying. “All right, I will unlock these doors for you, but I will be locking you inside until the two of you have made up with one another.”

“Your daughter is the one who started it,” Cerise muttered, before Roselle turned towards her and snapped at her.

“I’m the one to start things, and as a lady, I’m also one to finish them,” Roselle said. “You, Cerise de Vernase, are most insufferable! I don’t like your attitude.”

Cerise found herself opening her mouth to argue with Roselle. Before they both knew it, the Queen unlocked the great treasury doors and threw them both inside. Then, she locked them both in the treasury room, leaving them to their own devices.

“Kiss and make up, you two!” The Queen said as she laughed behind her hand. “You’ll need to do so. Roselle, I’ve got something that even you can’t handle in the treasury. To give you some friendly advice, you may need to rely on Cerise to help you.”

“I will never ask for her help!” Roselle shouted at the door, pounding on the great doors that locked them inside. “I can handle everything on my own, thanks very much! I’m the Grand Duelist! Just because I lost once…”

“A loss is a loss,” The Queen said firmly. “And Cerise is now your partner. And Cerise, you are bound to my daughter as well. So please look after her and tell her to grow up a little, hm?”

“Ugh! Mother!” Roselle said as she stamped her foot again on the floor. “Whatever, I’m going to go on ahead. Out of my way, peasant. You’ll only get in the way!”

“Did someone forget to put the sugar in your tea this morning or something?” Cerise asked, and Roselle whirled around on Cerise, and Cerise thought she caught a glimpse of tears momentarily. But that was impossible; Roselle was too proud, too tough, to show any tears.

“I wanted to marry for love,” Roselle said as she clenched her hands into fists, before she narrowed her eyes towards Cerise and dared her to say something. “I thought I could have someone of my choosing in a wonderful marriage that would be both prosperous and faithful. Instead, I have to marry some wretched girl that is a constant reminder of my shame.”

Now Roselle done it, Now Roselle was making her look like the bad guy. Still, Cerise couldn’t help but pity the girl a little. Nobles were used to arranged marriages though, weren’t they? For the political unity of a kingdom or its prosperity. Cerise wasn’t so important that she was a bartering chip for political advantages across kingdoms.

“Look,” Cerise said. “We don’t like one another, but now’s not the time to fall apart. We need to work together and fight against…whatever is guarding the weapon treasury in this vault.”

“Hmph, as if I’d agree with you, but I share the same sentiment,” Roselle said, before she took her rapier and pointed towards a large spiral staircase that fluted down several corridors below. “Onwards, then. And do keep up.”

Cerise followed without question. The fluted column became darker and darker, and a cold seeping through her bones chilled her. Cerise’s legs ached with every step, but complaining about her muscles cramping would certainly get Roselle on her case. So she suffered in silence, thinking about earlier and how she refused to acknowledge Roselle’s little lapse in character. She almost sympathized with the woman. She couldn’t have that, could she? Roselle was a forced marriage that was dictated to her by the Queen, all for the fancy Grand Duelist title. As far as Cerise was concerned, she could care less about the title, but it clearly was very important to Roselle…

Cerise shook her head. She would sort out her feelings later. The sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as they groped their way through the darkness.

“As much as I hate to do this, we might have to hold hands,” Roselle whispered, and Cerise blushed at the thought. Holding hands with Roselle? As though they were lovers and more than friends and weren’t even enemies at all?

Maybe Cerise was overthinking this. It was a good way to ensure that the two of them didn’t get lost in this labyrinth maze.

“I could just put my hand on your shoulder,” Cerise finally settled. “Wouldn’t you want both hands to defend yourself anyway?”

Roselle became flustered.

“O-Of course, I could fight anything with one hand tied against my back! It’s only natural that I give this thing a handicap so that it would be fair fight. That’s all.”

Cerise fought back a smile. She couldn’t help herself. Whenever her enemy got flustered like that, Cerise sometimes forgot that she was the noble that she hated and was forced to marry. Her face eventually contorted into a frown, however, as she sensed something enormous hovering ahead of them.

“Is that…” Cerise asked, pointing a finger towards the darkness. A burst of flame roared forth, and Roselle hastily grabbed Cerise and shoved her out of the way.

“Dragon!” Roselle shouted in despair, before stamping her foot again. “Damn you, Mother! How do you expect me to fight a dragon in this locked-in vault?”

Cerise wracked her brains to figure out something useful about dragons. What she knew, however, was that dragon scales were imbued with a magic residue that made them resistant to physical attacks like Roselle’s rapier, and they spewed forth flame that incinerated anything and everything in its path. There was something else, she was sure, but something deep within her panicked and she found that she stood frozen in place again, just like she did with the chimera.

“Have at you!” Roselle said, though the normally stalwart Grand Duelist had been cowed by the dragon’s sheer size. It scaled bigger than a large house that nobles lived in, and its eyes were as large as dinner plates. Its sharp talons left claw marks on the concrete floors and could easily be the size of large swords in the weapon vault itself. The thing had glossy shiny red scales covering it from head to toe, and Cerise couldn’t see any vulnerable spot on it. There was no way that Roselle’s rapier could pierce its hide. Why did she have to freeze up at important moments like this?

Cerise noticed something strange. She saw an image in her mind, of a faint color impression. It was a mellow yellow color earlier, as though drowsing in a nice dream, and then it suddenly flashed a hot burst of red when Roselle attempted to pierce underneath one of its many red scales. It swatted at Roselle like a fly, and she crashed against a wall and let out a cry of pain. Cerise stood frozen, and the dragon stared at her as she stood rooted to the spot. Surely it would devour her now, would it?

The colors inside her mind changed, and she could see a faint impression of a human shape, and the dragon shook its head slightly. Cerise still stood frozen, though something was going on in her mind; was the dragon reading her thoughts? Did it actually shake its head at her that it wouldn’t eat her?

Before Cerise could discover more, the mental link between herself and the dragon snapped out as the dragon roared when Roselle clambered up its great scaly hide and headed towards its head. It attempted to swat at her, though Roselle continued to make the great journey along its back onto its long serpentine neck.

“Wait, Roselle!” Cerise said. “Don’t attack the dragon!”

Another tentative attempt at connection, and the dragon showed a picture of an egg that was a brilliant scarlet ruby. Cerise thought she must be defending her baby, and that’s why she was upset; they were trespassing on their territory. However, Roselle avoided the flames from the dragon’s mouth and pierced its one great eye, and Cerise momentarily felt pain in her left eye and clutched it.

“Roselle, stop!” Cerise said. “You’re only making her angry!”

“Is your head full of stuffing?” Roselle sniffed. “I managed to get a weapon for you. Here, catch.”

Roselle threw something towards Cerise, and Cerise managed to catch it. It was a stellar wand probably blessed by the stars themselves; it was full of potent magic, and Cerise could feel it practically thrumming alive in her hands. Cerise felt a stirring anger; she was not sure if it was her own or the dragon’s, but she directed it towards Roselle. She never would’ve gotten into this situation if it weren’t for the wretched girl. She would be home safe with her sister and family and now she had to go on a Quest that she never asked for to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone, laying a heavy responsibility on her young shoulders.

The wand vibrated, and Cerise clutched it as an explosion of magical power erupted forth from her wand. It blasted a hole in the steel reinforced wall of the treasury, and both Roselle and Cerise ran through it to avoid the rampaging dragon. When they were inside a secret passageway, Cerise stood stunned, unbelieving that she just caused that.

She attempted again to use the magic, but the magical vibrations and thrumming in the wand died out. How did she manage to activate magic so strong? Her anger, however, started to rise like a blood pressure.

“Roselle, how could you!” Cerise said, and Roselle looked at her with a dumbfounded expression, as though she didn’t realize that Cerise would be that angry with her.

“Look what you did! You…you harmed a magnificent creature and now she can’t properly take care of her egg!”

“I got you a weapon, Cerise,” Roselle said in a strangely meek voice. Yet Cerise didn’t want to give her any quarter.

“It was just waking up from a nice nap and then you had to go charge in and attack it like a fool! This whole scenario could’ve been avoided if you stopped and listened to me! But no, you just have to have a duel no matter how dangerous it is, you always have to throw your weight around and show off how great you are. You think you can handle everything by yourself, but admit it; you needed me there with you. Otherwise the dragon would’ve killed you! In fact, you could’ve used the wand yourself! You would’ve been much better at it than I am!”

Roselle muttered something under her breath. Cerise leaned closer, still buzzing with anger.

“What?” Cerise said in a sharp tone.

Roselle blushed, before she said. “I can’t…use magic.”

Cerise found that her words died in her throat. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. The Princess, the great Roselle Perrault, couldn’t use magic?

“A life threatening condition almost killed me when I was born,” Roselle said softly, staring down at the floor. “If it weren’t for a doctor that helped realign my Magic Circuits, I would’ve been a goner for sure. There was too much magical energy eating up my body. At the cost of a cure, I could no longer use magic.”

Roselle sniffed, and Cerise realized that she was crying. She didn’t want to comfort her enemy, but something in her broke when Roselle let out a wail.

“I wanted to be the Grand Duelist so much because I wanted to show that a person who had no talent in magic could achieve the title through sheer guts and bravery. Don’t you see why it’s important to me now, and why you’re my greatest shame? You… you can use magic, and you won against me. It was fair and square, I admit it. I’m a great big loser, aren’t? So just… leave me alone!”

With that, Roselle ran off, and Cerise was left with a heavy heart.