Month 6
Screams startled us from our slumber. From the smell and feeling of my body, it is somewhere in the morning. Still dark, nearly pitch black, the sounds of distant muttering and screaming kept up. Princess pushed me aside and rushed to press her ear against the cell door. For her to have such a reaction to what was common in here is highly unusual. But given her uncharacteristically panicked demeanor, I remained still and quiet. Scuffling echoed down the hall, along with hushed voices and the screams of an inmate, then silence. Princess's breath quickened, then she scrambled back to me as the multitude of footsteps crept closer.
Princess grabs my face, then presses her lips against mine. When she broke away, the cell door from a ways over opened, and then the same shuffling, mummerings, and screams began again. "Listen to me, Owen." She rubs my face. "No matter what they do to me, just know that I believe in you," the inmate in the next cell screams a guttural cry of desperation before silence takes over again.
The look in her eyes showed a bravery that was once foreign. She didn't need to be brave, I was brave for her and always have been. But now, I'm stunned, confused, and ignorant, like prey before a slaughter. I needed to know, I had to know. "Wha—"
Our cell lock clicked, and the door slid open. In come the Enforcers, they separated us and restrained our wrists and ankles with heavy cuffs. They were massive, two giant blocks of metal and wood that swallowed our hands and feet. Then, in comes an authority figure, dressed just as important as the pompous Piltover council. But he's different. Dressed for war, with a steel helmet, metal breastplate, bracers, cuisses, and hard leather boots. Glistening runes run over his armor as soon as he sets his eyes on Princess. She locked eyes with his. Although trembling, she defiantly held his cold glare. I didn't struggle, I didn't fight back against the Enforcers who held me down. Doing so would be a waste of energy. The best thing I can do is focus on every movement of this imposing figure and remember every detail, every step. He began to speak a foreign language that I couldn't understand. Princess began to lose composure as he stepped close. My heart pounded as he raised his hand over her head and grabbed her hair. That's when it happened. The princesses' dark magic flared. In that instant, the armored man moved with experience that cannot be taught in either city. His gloved hands moved in a blur, arcane symbols covered his hands and then spread across the princess's body like a shiver. Princess screamed as the symbols began to cover her body, eating away at her magical barrier. To my astonishment, her barrier broke, and she went limp, like a puppet whose strings were cut.
The armored man stood up. "Take her away for the interrogation." Then he turns to me as the Enforcers immediately haul Princess off. "You're awfully quiet." He walks towards me, looming over me. "Must not be as close as the documents suggest."
"No" was my only response. Giving them as little as possible is my only means of attack.
He smiled cruelly as he crouched in front of me. "Don't worry, I suspect that she might be involved with the...experiments you discovered upstairs, you're safe now." His voice is smooth, authoritative, and relaxed, as if he has nothing to worry about. "Can you be honest with me?"
I look at the helmets that hide the faces of each Enforcer, then back at the armored man. "Your name first, I don't know who I'm talking to."
The armored man chuckled, revealing his teeth. "My apologies, I'm Julion, lieutenant inquisitor under General Ambessa Medarda."
My chest grows heavy at that name, Medarda. "So...you know?"
He signals the enforcers to leave with a wave of their hand. The three enforcers hesitated, their grips loosening only slightly. But they released me anyways, perhaps questioning his command would have yielded gruesome results. As they left the cell, Julion never took his eyes off me. Finally alone, he removed his helmet, revealing a man of sun-kissed complexion and braided hair.
"All I know is what our gracious Mel has slipped from her sly mouth, that you are a part of the Medarda bloodline," he declares with some of his zeal restrained. I suspect that he is directly severing under my alleged house title. "Ah, I see that you are a sharp one." He smiles a dangerous smile that made me feel like a rat under the teeth of a veteran street cat. "You have a sharp mind, at least. As for your body..." He looks me over with a gaze that makes me feel uncomfortable. "Our arena will shape you up." I knew it.
"You mean..." I barely got a word in before my fears were realized.
He nods and stands, eager to carry out his orders. "Along with finding the black mage that has destroyed the upper level, you are coming home, to Noxus."
The declaration weakened my legs and sent my heart into a frenzy. "But...Zaun is my home, I have family here..." What is wrong with my voice? I sound like a lost child in the rain.
Julion picked up on my weakened state like a wolf smelling blood. "You belong to the Medarda family." He stands, putting on his authoritative helmet. "You belong to Lady Medarda. My orders are to take you to her."
I stood on my own. Moving with the shackles on me. Surprisingly, it wasn't much of a challenge, although it was uncomfortable. "But I'm a prisoner. I have to do my time here." Hopefully, this will convince him that it cannot happen. But to my dismay, a victorious grin curled the left side of his lips.
"You are a prisoner who was recently revealed to be royalty. So, as a consequence, you are being exchanged for a different prisoner," he explained while moving towards the door, expecting me to follow him. Before I reluctantly took a step forward, he reached behind him, grabbing a cylinder capsule. With swift hands, he unseals it and then shows me the paper.
Walking forward, my eyes scan over the paper. With every line I read, the less human I feel. Pretty words such as 'acquisition' and dehumanizing words referring to us as 'property.' Then, I lower my eyes down to the most important section of the paper. My name, "Owen Medarda, Inmate 800, will be traded for the release of former councilor Baskil Farsight..." traded, like items at the market place. I turned away from the paper, Julion rolled the paper back up, and sealed the paper.
"Come along, it's a long way to Noxus." Julion walks out, and I listlessly follow. The enforcers encircle us as we are escorted towards the center of the prison. "As for your former cellmate, no need to worry your mind about her." We reached the center of the prison, in front of the warden. Julion looks at the warden with the glare that he fears, a higher authority. "She will accompany us." The warden's eyes shift to me, and in that instant, I understood him right there. The Warden's only source of power in the world is within these cold stone and steel-reinforced walls. He has become drunk off abusing the inmates, physically and mentally breaking us down nearly every day. And now, this is the weakest that I've ever seen him. Two of his inmates are leaving him, two of his prized...'possessions'...are leaving him. That thought alone must be eating him up inside, and yet, I can't revel in it. I found power in my ruthlessness, as he found power within the ruthlessness of the Piltover system. We do what we can to survive, nothing less is good enough. He looks back at Julion and wordlessly nods. A similarly armored soldier of the same complexion approached with a leash in his hand and a chain connected to the collar of a hooded inmate. They spoke in their language, shot words, and then nodded. "Off we go."
Julion grabbed my arm with a solid grip. The other soldier and Julion walked side by side, restricting me from seeing Princess. All this time, and no advantage, no opening, chained, restrained, and manhandled. The old me would be furious, the old me would have endured further humiliation just for the sake of fighting back, but Stillwater changed me. In the time that I've been here, Silco and Vander were right, Stillwater changes people, mostly for the worse. The princess's bare feet patter against the cold floor, at least I had the chance to keep my socks. They took what little she had and just threw a straw sack over her to wear, cutting a hole for her head to fit through. My anger, the only weapon that had kept me alive, is gone. The gate opens as we approach. They seem to be in a hurry to get us out. Steadily, the outside world spills over us as we are yanked forward. The faint evening glow of the outside world wasn't as invigorating as usual. Within restraints, I still feel defeated, so close to freedom, yet so far. Ahead of us, a grand airship consumes my attention, almost causing me to forget my predicament. As we approached the massive airship, which is more appropriate for war, the Enforcers escorting us began to retreat. Julion and his second approached the lowered stairs and climbed. Standing over the ledge are massive, mountain-like men, clothed in hard leather, the hard leather clothed in metal armor. They all hold spears and shields, with cold eyes of unrelenting focus.
Julion chuckled, catching the look of awe on my face. "This is only a glimpse of Noxus power."
We are led up the stairs, each step closer to a completely different world. The eyes of the Noxus soldiers followed us until it was impossible to do without turning their heads. The deck was busy with activity, but they stood to attention as we passed them. They stood stiff, balled their fists, angled their right arms at a 6 o'clock angle, and beat their chests once, holding their fists there until we passed. As soon as we made it to an interior, they resumed their work, and I began to have second thoughts about keeping my composure. We walked into a well-lit and furnished room, ruined by a sight that made us wish to have never left Stillwater. Lined and shackled along the wall are the inmates, bound, mutilated, and beaten with clinical care that kept them alive. Julion's second removed Princess's hood. She gasped at the sight upon opening her eyes. For her sake, I wanted to gasp upon seeing her now bruised and swollen face. Princess widens her swollen and purple eyes with suppressed agony as she gazes upon the giant of a woman who is torturing them. We couldn't see what the massive figure was doing to the inmate exactly. Her agony she was going through and could see the trickling flow of blood that traveled down the mountain muscle's arms. The inmate seemed exhausted from screaming and only gave guttural wails at the worst of the experience.
Julion stood at attention, tightening his grip on my arm. "Lady Medarda! I bring you your grandson."
The towering figure, decorated in dressed-down royal Noxus apparel, ceased his efforts and turned his massive front to us. Her gaze fell upon me. The gargantuan woman of immense power stepped towards me, with eyes that surveyed every inch of my body. "Understood, leave us," she demanded with a finality that would be met with brutality if defied.
Julion and his second saluted and left us immediately. I couldn't even spare a glance to see Princess because of this towering figure's intense gaze. We just stood there, the only sounds being the rumbling of the soldiers' boots, the commands of the captain's orders, and the moans of the tortured inmates. My body is primed for anything, a single wasted movement could mean the end. Even in cuffs, I still have this primal urge to avoid whatever nightmare this is. Her battle-hardened eyes meticulously look me over from head to toe. "General Ambessa Medarda, I am your grandmother." She reaches down and grabs the middle of my wooden and steel cuffs, crushing them in one swift motion. The pure force of her grip startled me out of instinct. I've never been around a pure display of force like this in my life. Ambessa shifts her grip, lifting me up by my hand, and grabs the cuffs around my ankles, crushing them with equal ease. All this time, Ambessa watched me, taking mental notes of my reactions.
Setting me back down, I asked her bluntly. "What's going to happen to Princess?"
A dark smirk exposes her canine. "The girl?" Straightening her back, she stepped to the side, giving me the view of the inmates that are suffering along the wall. "That all depends on her answers. I show no mercy to mages, especially dark mages."
Then it dawns on me. "You...came for me?"
Her massive hand lands on my back, sending an oddly chilling sensation that was entirely unwanted. The countless souls that this one hand has destroyed, my body is screaming at me to either run like a fox or fight to the death. "Ha! You are a sharp one," she sighs, as if fondly reminiscing on a heartwarming memory. "Just like your father."
My nerves are being pushed to their limit. I need to leverage the opportunity I'm given, or else Princess and I are dead. But given the company I'm with, she might choose a fate worse than death for the both of us. With her hand on my back, she could possibly feel my heart rate. And if this is the near hopeless situation I think it is, she can accurately gauge how I'm feeling through that judgement alone. Play it cold, Owen. "I need to see her." I turn my head to look up at her. "To see if she's who she says she is."
Ambessa glances to the side, considering my proposal. "And who exactly did she claim to be?"
I was about to answer, but for the life of me, I didn't know. To my recollection, Princess has never made it clear. She never gave me a straight answer on who nor what she is. Everything I know about her is what I have assumed. That she was just another unfortunate inmate. But as I separate my bias, things start to make sense, in an unsettling way. I wasn't paranoid with her as I was with everyone else. She soothed me whenever I broke down. And the strange series of illusions, the darkness that melts through her, the shadows that seem to breathe with her....
"So..." Ambessa's restrained voice, laced with boiling fury, broke my musings. "...this mage was toying with your mind?"
Looking back up at her, I gave her the look of bewilderment and confusion that reinforced her dormant decision. "I thought...she was just...another inmate."
Shaking her head like a disciplinary mentor, she informs me. "She, like many other mages, is an agent of Black Rose. That order has been after my family for some time." She turns me and gestures towards the door. "We will have an audience with her and see if my suspicions are true."
With her hand placed firmly against my back, she leads me towards the interrogation room. Along the way down the hall, soldiers stopped and saluted, honoring Ambessa. With a curt nod of her head, she dismisses them to resume their duty. They are different from the Enforcers. More mechanical, but somehow, strangely, more human. They didn't hide their faces behind armored helmets, unless it was to show power towards the enemy. They freely brandish their war-worn faces, proud to have distinguished themselves as veterans. Finally, we turned a corner into a room where Princess is displayed in a worse state than she was before. Within a sterile room, Princess is chained to an X-frame structure. Clothed in only her sack, nearly every inch of her body is covered in wounds I couldn't imagine inflicting on a human being. A thin, long red needle protruded from her heart. It is made from a material that I have never seen before. All red exterior, with a near pitch-black interior. It glows ominously with every pulse. The needle has corrupted her entire bloodstream, its coloration illuminating every vein in her body. The one vein in particular that carries most of the object's energy travels directly to her brain. The sight of that one single vein, carrying the illumination from her heart, up her neck, across her face, and to the center of her mind, makes it seem as if they are the ones with the dark magic. Four medical people surround her, armed with surgical and cleaning tools. Standing in front of her is none other than Julios, leading the operation. His second stands to the side, taking down notes on a clipboard. From what I could gather, they torture her, then clean up whatever blood that flowed from her wounds.
Ambessa directed me further inside. "A talented blood mage, I take it?"
The men turned to salute their general, then all but Julion returned to their work. He approaches Ambessa and stands at attention. "Yes, adapt in the craft. She is also equally proficient in necromancy."
As he has gone on with his full report, I'm dumbfounded. Princess never spoke about her magic with me. Looking at her ruined form, we lock eyes for only a moment, then she turns away in shame. My mind and my heart couldn't accept it. She has been my only comfort within Stillwater. She was the only person who didn't beat me senseless or make me fear for my own safety. It took everything within me to hold back my tears. But as I struggled to do so, I had mistakenly allowed my body to tremble in visible agitation at the scene. Ambessa and Julion exploited that weakness expertly.
"Owen, my grandson..." She nods at Julion, who, in turn, returns to Princess. "...blood magic and necromancy clouds the mind." She guides me towards Princess, the smell of her metallic-scented blood brought forth my silent tears. "Whatever feeling you have for her may, in fact, be genuine..." We stopped in front of Princess. Julion made room for us. She keeps her eyes closed, choosing not to have her final moments of life be staring into the eyes of her lover. "...and she has used that genuine affection for her own means." She then directed her attention to Princess, her voice lowering to a hostile and calm tone. "Haven't you?"
The glowing needle jutting from her heart glowed softly, rising in intensity the longer she stayed quiet. "Yes...." Her voice came out hoarse and pained from screaming in agony.
Ambessa pushed further. "Food, protection, and the warmth of MY grandson?" she said, assuming her assumptions were accurate, spoken with vindication and authority.
The princess's reddened eyes shed tears of remorse. She nods in confirmation of her ulterior motives. "Yes."
She lifts her hand from my back and holds her hand to the side. "You had no intimate feelings towards my grandson without exchanging for these services?" Her once empty hand was quickly filled with the handle connected to a blade. Its sharp edge seemed to slice the glow of the surrounding lanterns.
Princess nods again, her eyes becoming more swollen from the abuse and crying.
Ambessa then stepped ahead of me, grabbing Princess's jaw with her powerful hand. "You used him, MY grandson, like a strumpet?"
Princes shook in absolute fear, an instinctual impulse that has visibly taken a toll on her. "Y-Yes."
In that instant, Ambessa sank the blade into Princess's eye, cutting away at the swollen flesh. She screamed and writhed in pure agony, filling the room with her wailing cries. One of the torture doctors grabbed onto my arm, restraining me from leaping forward. However, I can't move my legs. Princess's admission conflicts with the belief that I have for her. Everything that I have felt from the moment I met her—was it all a lie? Just a ruse for her own momentary need for comfort within Stillwater? As I began to piece the puzzles together, Ambessa meticulously continued to remove her eyelids. And as she does so, I feel a release from my mind and heart. I'm able to think more rationally about my relationship with her. My paranoid mind gained the strength to treat her as I have with everyone else in my life. I'm fully aware of what she was within Stillwater, her reputation wasn't lost on me. She moved from cell to cell, inmate to inmate, searching for the one that suited her interests. She had only bothered me after I won my rematch against Scar. And as Ambessa moved to Princess's other eye, a disturbing calm washed over me, it all made sense now.
"Princess, what are you?" I look at her, questioning her form, seeing if she is truly experiencing the pain.
Ambessa slows her work, turning her head slightly to me, but still keeping her full attention on Princess. "You heard him talk."
"Owen...help me." Her voice, once sweet to my ears and hypnotic to my racing mind, now sounds void of feeling, of soul. It may be due to her fatigued body. But if that's the case, she shouldn't have the energy to project her voice in such a steady tone.
"If you are who they claim you to be, then you don't need help, you never did." I walked up to her, and Ambessa grinned as she made room for me. "You never needed anyone's help."
Now that I'm closer to her, I can tell that the needle in her heart is the only thing that is causing her true pain. Then, I did something that I was afraid of doing, so afraid that I almost forgot that I was capable of doing it. Staring deep into her eyes, I pierced through her mind and into her soul. Where there is supposed to be the ethereal form of her human essence, lies a shade. "Princess...what did you do to yourself?"
Her shade form turns to me. The form was a whisper of a being, not quite here, almost faded from existence, hanging on by a thread.
I finally cried, fully cried. "I don't know why you did it or what you were chasing, but that power—it isn't worth it. No amount of power is worth losing your soul!"
The shade lowered its head and shrank its shoulders, confirming my fears. All this time, I was talking to a hollowed shell of a woman. Someone who couldn't be mistaken for a living being. The darkness that seems to swallow her whole whenever the slightest shade touches her—I should have known. But her mastery over blood magic warped my senses, keeping me blind to her power. She was dead before we met. Having fully grieved her, I promised to grant her the only mercy she will ever know.
Allowing the tears to fall down to my chin, I promised. "Princess...I'll free you."
The shade looks up at me, in hope that I'll stay true to my word. In the next moment, I exited her soul and prepared myself for what needed to be done. "She...lied to me." Looking into her eyes wasn't painful anymore. Despite her physical body still feeling the pain, her soul is far from this reality.
Ambessa nods approvingly. Seeing my defeated and resigned disposition, she went for the kill. She held the handle in front of me. "You should have the honor of vindicating yourself and your house."
I took the handle of the weapon. It's heavier than it looks. However, I didn't need it. Grabbing the red needle, I pulled it from Princess's chest. The red energy leaves with the rune-encrusted rod, releasing the princess to finally succumb to her injuries. With a heavy heart, I watched her tremble. It was the last fight her body gave before going limp.
"Thank...you..." she whispers before going completely still.
Julion's second recorded the time of death, and I backed away, allowing the torture doctors to take care of her body.
Ambessa placed her hand on my back again. "Zaun has taught you to be a man already."
Hands her the weapon and the once red needle to Ambessa. "Surviving in Zaun taught me how to survive. Beyond that, I taught myself." Keeping my family from her for now is the best move. And even if she knows about them, pretending that I'm disinterested in them would make her avoid leveraging their safety as blackmail.
Ambessa takes the tools, but her eyes inspect the needle with lingering interest. "A few observations, if you would." She nods towards the door, and we walk. "This tool is used to completely dismantle the magical power that mages are born with." It took a while to notice the two deaf men behind us, fully dressed in thinly layered Noxus armor. They seem to me to be following us purposely, maybe to keep me on my feet. Their faces are plain and unsuspecting, however duty-bound and focused. "And your contact with it, drained the power that is meant to shut down the magical potency of mages."
She holds the needle out for me to see again, so I commented on it truthfully. "I understand the runes as formulas, so I drained its power."
We turned into a room that's furnished to serve as a training ground. Despite the polished weapons, polished floor, and sanitized mat, the faint smell of blood stains the air. The students within ceased their drills and saluted their general. Clothed in blood-red gis, they stood perfectly still, despite their injuries and exhaustion from their training. The lead drill instructor stood at the head of the mat, standing proud and alert.
Ambessa nods and tosses the bladed weapon to the side. Immediately, a student rushed to grab it and placed it back on the wall before returning to his place. "As you have observed..." She walks forward confidently, looking over the students, soon to be Noxus soldiers. "My forces could easily take over both cities in a day." She observes me closely to gauge my reaction.
Glancing over the students quickly, they all radiate the great effort of masking their excitement. "Don't doubt that for a moment. What I am wondering is, why wait?"
Ambessa smirked, as if she expected that question. She stands across from the mat and gestures towards the center, I step forward. "It is not time to hunt, for you will be the one to conquer both cities."
Standing in the middle, I embraced my new situation. I am surrounded by students, not Noxus recruits. Each student further clenches their fists, preparing to carry out Ambessa's orders.
"Seeing as how you have systematically taken over Zaun, you've demonstrated the cunning of the fox..." As if on cue, the surrounding students pound their chests once, their national salute. "...but not the strength of the wolf." The students lowered into their combat stances, each unique and troublesome to decipher. I lowered into my grappling stance, prepared to fight for my life. Ambessa carefully studies me, unimpressed but curious about what I can do. "You are small, but toned..." She paced from side to side, scrutinizing my figure. "...but even a cornered, starved wolf is dangerous." She stops and poses in a solid posture, with her arms folded behind her back. "Show me, Owen, that you carry the blood worthy of the name Medarda. Havesol."
One of the students charged forward, silently as he could. Clothed in the blood-red GI, hands bandaged and bloody, he threw a series of kicks with ferocity behind each movement. I slipped and countered each sharp sweep of his kicks with lethal precision. The wide area gave me the small comfort of not being contained inside a cramped cell. My punches clashed against his vital organs. My knuckles ignited in pleasurable pain, as the violence gave me the release I needed to vent my frustrations. Havesol incorporated his arms to counter and defend while using his legs to interrupt my movement for an attack. He's smart and seasoned but lacks the hatred for his existence. Blocking his strikes numbed the limbs that I used to guard. However, the pain fueled my shortsighted intentions to release my rage. I stepped into his momentum, breaking his rhythm. Getting into his range, I wreak havoc on his ribs, body, and throat. His years of Noxus training couldn't compare with my years of knowing nothing but survival. A decisive strike lands on his chin when I wanted to keep landing on his unusually muscular neck. When I sensed his consciousness fade for a moment, I seized the opportunity to grab his gi, twist it clockwise, step around his legs, and bring him crashing onto the mat. He collapsed with the force powered by pure rage, but I didn't stop there. My fist pointed at his face until a squirt of blood jutted from his torn flesh and splashed in my eye.
"Hmph." Ambessa signaled a gesture, and a student rushed in and pulled Havesol's leg, retrieving him from me. Loosening my grip on his gi, I allowed him to be dragged off. "Your ferocity is adequate, and your attention is superb, but you lack attention to technique when ferocity fails. Naomi."
A slightly shorter, but no less conditioned student, charged forward. We locked arms, and without testing her power, I pushed for the immediate finish. But the student countered my impatient action with a solid stance. She then grabbed my belt buckle and shoved her shoulder in my chest. Quickly, I used that momentum to wrap my arms around her, lift her over me, and slam her to the ground. Believing that I had the upper hand on the ground, I began to roll to the dominant position. However, to my surprise, she was just as adept at grappling as I was, perhaps even more advanced. We rolled across the mat, caught each other in holds that would have snapped limbs, and choked each other out in seconds. She incorporated her legs to manipulate my position, keeping me off balance. The only saving grace I have was my own strength and my need to win at any cost. Wherever I could, I took swipes everywhere at her body and head. Punches and elbow strikes at her exposed ribs when she was trying for a hold. Knees to her side and head when she panicked and forgot to lock my legs down. She retaliated with her own sharp use of elbow strikes, achieving a cut on my brow. Invigorated by seeing my own blood, I pushed my head against hers. I smeared my blood on her face, rewarding her for the achievement. Bleeding wildly, it was enough to momentarily distract her, pushing her revulsion for blood to the forefront of her mind. As she took the bait and released her hold to wipe her face, I seized the opportunity to grab her by the GI, pushed myself to my feet, and lifted her into the air. Her last error against me was wrapping her legs around my waist. Lifting her high over me, she unintentionally secured my technique in power bombing her to the mat. I slammed Naomi back to the floor, with an ounce of devastating power in me. She arched her body involuntarily, writhing in the pain. Lifting my leg, I jabbed my heel into her solar plexus. The brutal axe kick almost instantly knocked her out. Turning to Ambessa, I maintained my stance, prepared for her to call another student to attack me.
Her face held the contemplative expression, dissecting everything she saw. "You overwhelmed superior technique with distractions and exploited her weakness for blood." At the mention of that, I shook my head, shaking away the trail of blood that threatened to fall in my eye. "However, you show no such discomfort." She nodded approvingly. "To serve as a Medarda, you must be both the fox and the wolf, Torent. Yuvel." Two students surround me, the front and the back. Both share the same intensity, the same drive. "You will be trained to inherit the throne, but first, prove that you are worth the effort."
Seeing the degree of effort she put into retrieving me, I'm sure she already made up her mind. At this point, I don't care. I lost Princess... I just want to hit something.