"Hey guys! How'd we do for the last set? I brought reinforcement."
"It appears you require my assistance. I would have preferred that Donalbain ask a different person, but he claims that I am in his debt."
"But how did you even go back to grab Catherine?"
Donalbain chuckles, "Well, people are frantically trying to leave the port, right? I hitched a ride and went back. I was going to get Cordelia to come, but she has SAT classes, so Catherine was the next best option."
"Well, it's nice to have another girl on the team."
"Are these the artifacts you have been describing to me, Donalbain? Do you wish for me to assist you in discerning their purpose?" Catherine motions to the items laid out on the table.
Donalbain grins, "Yup! Try to do it all creative like. We won once because Agatha here gave us the directions! And we mixed stuff together and... stuff." He shuffles his feet. Next to him, Agatha hovers in her spurned winged hat, staring daggers at Catherine.
The coatl runs a hand over the items, stopping herself at the book, "Well, you prefer creative, correct? Well, is it adequate if I tell you a story?"
Cymbeline nods, "Yeah, that's fine. As long as it's not R-rated." He gives Donalbain a look. The snappers smile innocently back at him.
Catherine opens the storybook and says, "Well, do you know the story of the three rivers? The ones that flow from the Viridian Labyrinth to the Sea of a Thousand Currents?"
The three other dragons stare blankly back at her.
Catherine rolls her eyes and begins reading, "Once upon a time, in a land far far away, lived four sisters. The eldest sister radiated with calming grace. Birds and animals flocked to her side, eager to hear her vibrant songs. The second sister shone bright with cheer. Some say her mere presence can banish a person's sadness. The third sister glowed with wisdom. She poured her time into reading the ancient texts, devoting herself to unlocking the mysteries of the world. And the fourth sister, she was beautiful. Suitors from all the lands flocked to the palace to ask for her hand in marriage."
"But she refused them all. She was in love with a peasant boy who works in the kitchen, butchering the meat with his cleaver, his hands constantly soaked in blood. But she loved him nevertheless. At night, when the entire kingdom dreamed ins their beds, the two lovers would meet in an open meadow near the palace. Here, the boy would whisper sweet words to the princess's ears, sing her songs of love. Once, using all of the money he earned butchering livestock in the castle, the boy gave his princess a golden necklace."
"'Take this, my love,' said the peasant boy, 'And I promise that my love for you is as eternal as the glow of this gem.'"
"The princess threw her arms around her lover and wept, for she knew that they could never be together. The two of them stayed there until dawn before returning to their everyday life."
"This peace would not last, however. As the princess rejected more and more of her suitors, the king grew frustrated. Convinced that she has taken on a secret lover, he locked her in a tower, permitting only her sisters to visit her."
"The anguished princess decided to ask her sisters to help her stay with her love. She told them her secret. They were horrified, but since they loved their little sister, they agreed."
"'But remember, we cannot actively defy our father,' said the first sister."
"'Don't worry. We'll still help you talk to you love,' said the second sister."
"'We'll be your messengers, your eyes and your ear,' said the third sister, 'We'll deliver any letters you have for him, and give you his replies.'"
"'However, remember that we are all very busy,' said the first sister. This was true, since all three have married. 'We'll try our best.'"
"So the love affair continued. The youngest princess wrote her lover letters from her tower, and her sisters delivered. The peasant boys wrote letters to the princess from the kitchen, stained in blood, and her sisters delivered."
"One day, a suitor from a far away kingdom arrived. He was a handsome prince, strong, regal, and his kingdom overflowed with riches. When he kneeled in front of the king, tipped the horned helmet from his head, and asked him for the hand of his daughter in marriage, the king gleefully accepted. Word of the marriage spread quickly throughout the castle. When it reached the kitchen, the peasant boy stood up in a rage."
"Cleaver in hand, he stormed through the castle, calling for the prince, demanding a duel to the death for the hand of the princess. The prince accepted, and the two battled in front of the horrified king. The prince was skilled in swordplay, but the peasant boy was faster on his feet. The prince's sword never found its mark."
"The prince tired, and the cleaver sliced through flesh. In one swift blow, the prince fell. Blood soaked the floor of the throne room. The helmet rolled off the head of the unfortunate prince and ended up at the feet of the third princess."
"Excitedly, she picked up the helmet and rushed to find the second sister. She found her tending to her crying babe in the nursery."
"'Quickly,' she said, 'Take this to our sister in the tower, and tell her that this is the helm of the suitor her lover felled.' Handing the helmet to her sister, the third princess left to continue her reading."
"The second princess rushed to find the first sister, baby in hand. Unfortunately, the cries of the child obscured her hearing, and what she told the first sister was
"'Quickly. Take this to our sister and tell her that this is the helm of the suitor who felled your lover.' Handing the helmet to her sister, the second princess left, cradling her wailing babe with tears in her eyes."
"Panicked, the first sister rushed to the top of the tower. She opened the door and threw the spiked helmet at her sister's feet."
"'Look. This is the helmet of the fiend that murdered your love.'"
"The little sister looked at the helm in horror, before letting out an anguished cry. She hurled herself out of the window of her tower, falling to the ground in a mess of blood and tears."
"At her funeral was the peasant boy, bloody cleaver at his side, his lover's necklace now a mourning veil over his face. Her sisters cried and cried and cried. They cried so much that their tears formed three rivers flowing from the place their sister was buried."
"Those rivers dried and filled over the centuries. Some say that when tragedy strikes the world, the sisters mourn once again, and the rivers flood with their torrential rage to remind the world of their grief."
Catherine smiles and closes the book.
