Epilogue & DTP Modern

“So,” Hannah walked up next to Sverd and leaned against the railing, drink in her hand. “Sir Knight is now Sir Knight-Commander, First Sword of Arendelle…and possibly Royal Consort?”

The knight groaned and shook his head. “Let me guess, you’ve been drinking, Hannah?” Sverd asked, noticing that his ‘squire’s’ cheeks were uniformly red.

“To excess! Don’t worry, Fibber’s taking me home.” She smiled and wiped at her face. “Home. It feels so weird to know that’s Collinwell Manor again. I suppose you’ll be staying here with the Queen?”

The knight nodded. “It’s my duty to serve her, especially now that there’s so much work to do.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I think my family will demand that I be there to help them help the New Royalty.” She shuddered. “What if they actually put us in charge?”

“Wouldn’t that make you a princess?” Sverd said with a smile.

“Bite. Your. Tongue.” Hannah said. “Last thing I want is to be a Princess. If that happens, I’ll body-swap with Lottie.”

Sverd shook his head. “I don’t think anyone wants to listen to the idea of having to LISTEN to a Colinwell and not be able to groan, or beg for mercy.” He sighed. “Queen Aurora and Queen White mentioned to me that your father would be titled ‘Grand Duke’ and serve as her seneschal. That would make you…”

“Duchess Colinwell.” Hannah grinned. “Oh, that’s a MUCH better title. Probably will let me charge even more when I go back out on the road.”

“You plan to return to that life?” Sverd asked.

Hannah nodded. “I get itchy feet and twitchy fingers. Also, thanks to SOMEONE, I don’t sleep as easy in a soft bed anymore.”

“Well, I hope your tour takes you to Arendelle often…but don’t think for a minute that I’m going to join you.” Sverd said.

Hannah nodded. “I know, I asked Mary if she wanted to join me. She said that she’d rather stay here and help the Queen. For a while at least.” She giggled and tapped Sverd on the nose. “At least until she gets fed up on waiting for SOMEONE to pick a girl!”

“Hannah.” Sverd says. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“I know.” She smiled, and flicked his ear. “I love you, Marty. You know that?”

“I love you too, Hannah.” Sverd said with a rueful smile.

“Good, so take some advice from someone who loves you. Go out there, pick a woman who makes your heart skip a beat, and DANCE with her!” She broke into a fit of drunken giggles.

Sverd smiled, and then his smile fell as he turned to look back across the horizon, towards The Mountain.

“We didn’t kill Chernabog.” He says. “We hurt It. We sent It back…but It’s not dead…and the Winds are still blowing.”

Hannah nodded and finished her drink. “We both heard what Chernabog said. It will remain as long as humans are…human.” She paused. “It feels so weird to be able to say It’s name…such a strange prize.”

“How long before all this falls apart?” Sverd asked. “How long before there are new Kings? A hundred years, fifty, ten? People are going to end up suffering again, and…and…”

“We’ll be long dead.” Hannah said. “We sing our songs, write our verses, and then hope others pick up our tunes where we left off. For a while, things will be good, and hopefully from our next actions, the next group of idiots will find it easier to smash that ugly face of his, again.”

Sverd nodded. “I suppose. I just hope that our legacy isn’t something as fleeting as a forgotten golden age.”

“Do you know what you need?” Hannah said.

“More alcohol?” Sverd asked.

“No, you need to get in eyeshot of Mary and Elsa before that love potion I slipped in their drinks kicks in. Because, if you don’t, they’re going to fall for each other, and then WHAT does that say about YOU, Sir Knight?”

“You didn’t!”

The Duchess of Shattered Mirrors grinned at her knight.

“DAMNIT HANNAH!” Sverd yelled as he ran back to the party.

“Didn’t think he’d fall for that.” Jeremiah said from his chair in the dark corner, quietly smoking a cigar.

“Yes, you did.”

A pause. “Yup.”

- - - YEARS LATER - - -

A door slams, and Marcus drops to his knees and wipes the sweat off his brow. It’s too much. The weasels are after him, and he knows that Yokai’s horde is also searching for him. He didn’t…it wasn’t…it was the RIGHT thing to do.

And now he was suffering for it.

He walks around the building. This place…it looks like a church. It looks like it was built before San Fransokyo was amalgamated, before the Corporations, before the Roadways…before everything got so BAD.

No one talks about those times. The history books have been changed, or re-written. Names have been lost, sites have been demolished, and temples were destroyed…save this one.

Marcus walks up to the dias and sees what’s inside the glass case. A sword that’s too blunt to cut. He blinks and places his hands on the wood…and the case pops open.

His hands, acting without his conscious mind guiding them, slowly pick up the sword. It’s just a cold piece of metal…but…it’s more…

The door bangs open. The man looks up, two weasels have caught up with him.

One laughs at the image of the man holding a sword and puts on toon brass knuckles. The other draws a toon switchblade. They advance on Marcus.

The young man feels a cold wind blow over his shoulders, he barely knows how to use the Blunt Sword in his hands.

And yet, Marcus smiles.

- - - ELSEWHERE, SAME TIME - - -

She ran. Through the sub-systems and the backdoors, past the firewalls and hiding in the junk files. They would find her. They would purge her. She was an Error. She was Aberrant. She was Imperfect.

She was an ISO and that meant she had to die.

She stopped at a vacant site, and collapsed to the ground, hiding behind a counter. She sobbed, and tried to trash the files that held Quorra screaming…but the files refused to Re-Write.

Maybe she was defective…maybe she should have given up like the others. A quick derezzing was preferable to…to what happened to those that fought.

The idea that she could be like the other ISOs and go to that sugar-coated virus…and be changed was so anathema to her core programing that it make her want to reformat, just THINKING of it.

She had no place. No function. She was worthless.

“Hello and welcome to Silver-Tongue Sounds. I’m Hannah, can I help you?” A cheery voice said as a V.I. came into being.

“Ssshhhh!” 10-N3 tried to quiet the image of a woman in historical dress. Time Period: Age of Still Winds…FILE ENCRYPTED.

10-N3 blinked. Did…did she just access a memory from…Oh! The Vault! That’s what Quorra did…oh WHY did she have to give it to some malfunctioning unit like herself? She didn’t even have a proper name yet!

“I’ve got plenty of songs that start with ‘Ssshhhh!’ Are you trying to start a Quiet Riot or a Sonorous Symphony…or is your little one not singing the sounds of sleep?” The V.I. continued.

10-N3 clenched her fingers and swore under her breath. You got this, now and again, programs that were so brainless that they acted as if a User was talking to them. She might as well be looking at a fiber-optic cable.

She heard the boots approaching.

And now this cable was going to get her killed. She pressed herself under the counter of the ‘store’ and prayed to the Users.

“Program!” An Enforcer barked out. “Identify.”

“Hello and welcome to Silver-Tongue Sounds. I’m Hannah, can I help you?” The V.I. said.

“V.I., BASIC. Not worth the energy to even de-rez her.” One enforcer said.

“Program.” The other enforcer said. “You keep watch over this space?”

The program nodded, and 10-NE frowned as she looked at the program’s face. Was she glitching? Her auto-matte not working? Who programed this thing?

“Have you seen any malfunctioning program go by here? She’s a danger to the perfection of the system.” The enforcer asked.

And now 10-N3 was dead. V.I. could not lie. It would point her out and then…

“No program has gone by.” Hannah said.

“Are you sure?” The enforcer asked.

“I have seen no malfunctioning program.” Hannah said.

“She must have gone through the other tunnel, inform Squad Theta that they’re on the right path and we’re coming to back them up.” The enforcer said as the pair raced off.

10-N3 stayed there, under the counter for a long time. Then she slowly got up, and looked at the V.I. that hadn’t changed, or dropped its smile.

“You lied.” She said.

“I cannot lie.” The V.I. said. “You did not ‘go by,’ you stayed.”

10-N3 let out a small laugh of amazement. “You tricked them?”

“I cannot trick.” The V.I. says. “Do you wish to purchase music?”

10-N3 sighed and patted ‘Hannah’ on the shoulder. “No…but thank you.” She turned to leave, and made it three steps away.

“You are not malfunctioning.” Hannah’s voice said.

10-N3 spun around and looked at the V.I., confused. “What?”

“You are not malfunctioning. That is also why I didn’t remark on your location.” She smiled. “You are functioning at peak capability. Would you like to use some run time with some music?”

10-N3 choked back a sob, and then hugged the program. ‘Hannah’ made no movement, she just kept smiling, her face blotchy and imperfect.

“Thank you.” 10-N3 said. “I…I have to go.”

“Good luck!” ‘Hannah’ said. She continued to stand, and smile at nothing.

10-N3 ran off into the further reaches of the grid.

She was not a malfunction. She had a file to decrypt. She had a people to avenge.

She was running.