Two Sisters, Three Rabbits, and a Beefcake

A Short, Comedic Fantasy

“Captain! Captain!” The young sailor burst from below decks and ran to the helm, their cap clasped to their chest as they recovered their breath.

“Percival. What is it this time?”

The sailor had gone white as an animated corpse. “The rabbits, Captain! They… They’ve escaped their cages!”

Surely she’d misheard. Captain Ren turned to them with the deliberate precision of a tailor working a needle through a tough strip of leather. “You mean the rabbits carrying a disease that could wipe out half the kingdom’s magic? Those rabbits, Percival?”

Percival opened their mouth to answer.

As if on cue, a cotton-tailed culprit exploded out of the door Percival had just come through. It screeched, flapped up past Percival’s head, then dove over the edge of the ship and into the sky below.

Percival and the Captain, along with half a dozen other crew, ran to the rail and stared over as the rabbit’s feathery wings vanished through the clouds. Dots of tiny villages and green swatches of land peered through the white wisps, innocently arrayed and unsuspecting as the skyship passed overhead.

Percival stared at Ren. Ren stared at Percival.

“You blasted fool. You’ve killed us all.”

The deck shuddered at the proclamation. 

“Everybody hold on!” Ren shouted as the magic keeping the skyship aloft stuttered with a pulse of blue light. The ship dropped ten feet in a second before everyone slammed back into the deck with groans and curses.

Captain Ren righted herself enough to grab Percival by their collar. “How many cages?” she demanded.

“T-three, Captain.”

“Get them under control!” 

The moment she released the sailor, they scrambled back to the now-destroyed door and into the cabin containing ten very dangerous cages.

“Captain!” Ren’s first mate, Ula, a slender woman with an eye for fashion that the captain had never mustered, pulled herself across the deck using the ropes to keep her steady. “We need to land–now!”

Ren looked up from where she still sat on all fours. “We need to get to the Sorcerer’s Guild.”

“But–” Ula began.

“Set our heading!” Ren barked, clambering to her feet and lurching to the wheel as the ship shuddered again.

What would her sister say when she found out that Ren had unleashed mayhem? Ren knew exactly what she’d say: Pirates. You’re all the same. Greedy, selfish, and always waiting for someone else to clean up your messes.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Ula asked. She knew all about Ren and her sister.

Ren grimaced and clutched the wheel in white-knuckled hands. “We’ve got no other choice now.”

“Aye,” Ula said miserably and signalled the crew for a swift change of direction.

She never should have taken this job from the wizards. A prophecy from her childhood had warned Ren off magic. And everyone knew wizards were more greedy than pirates and–perhaps most dangerously–quite a lot smarter.

#

They landed as gracefully as their magically-limping airship would allow–which is to say, not at all. 

Captain Ren stepped off the lopsided gangplank with her first mate whilst Percival and the other sailors set to smothering various spontaneous fires smoking around the deck. Thankfully, they’d managed to keep the other rabbits secure.

The Sorcerer’s Guild palace lawn was as immaculate as their pillared architecture, and the stark white togas worn by their initiates. An annoyingly delightful fountain sprayed water from the various orifices of statuesque figures, and someone had cut the hedges to look like faeries.

Some of the braver sorcerers-in-training scrambled toward the crash site with their hands raised, bumbling about staying put until the Sorceress Supreme could attend them. Captain Ren ignored them and strode past. No one would dare jinx the Sorceress Supreme’s big sister.

“Captain, I really think–” Ula began.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Ren said dryly. “I can guarantee my sister will do all the thinking for us soon enough.”

She strode down the long marbled hall, her heeled boots echoing a cacophony of click-clacks through the palace. No doubt the initiates had already sent word via arcane methods, which meant Ren’s perfect sister would be arriving in three, two…

“Let me guess,” said a familiar voice, stepping out of an arched doorway just ahead. Ren halted, Ula stumbling to a stop behind her. Her sister wore a flowing white toga cinched at the waist by a gold chain. As usual, several servants trailed her, also dressed in white. One had to wonder how often sorcerer’s outfits needed laundering. Her sister raised her chin. “You’ve done something stupid and you need my help.”

“Hello to you too, Andromeda,” Ren said.

“That’s Sorceress Supreme to you!” one of her attendees chastised. 

Andromeda held up a hand. “Leave us.”

They did, with all numbers of bows and curtsies.

“Wow,” Ren said as she and Ula watched them go. “I wish my crew listened that well.”

“What do you want, Ren?”

Her sister looked weary. Older. 

“Honestly, it's such a teensy weensy thing that I almost didn’t bother asking you.”

Andromeda’s eyes narrowed. They knew each other too well.

Ren raised her hands. “All right, I might’ve... set loose an infestation of rabbits.”

“You what?” Andromeda stared at Ula for confirmation. Her first mate gave a grim nod.

“Yeah, okay, it sounds bad... but it’ll be fine! There were like, what?” Ren turned to Ula, “Three of them only?”

“Three? How long?”

A few hours…

“Why didn’t you try to catch… Right.” Andromeda closed her eyes. “Your airship. The magic stopped working.”

“Aye. That’s the half of it. The other half is a smouldering wreck outside your pretty palace.”

“And how, gods pray-tell,” her sister said, pinching her nose, “am I supposed to help, given rabbits siphon magic?”

Ren glanced at Ula, who gave an encouraging, if nervous, nod. “I was... kind of hoping you’d find a way around that. You and... and Orion.”

Despite everything, her sister’s eyebrow quirked smugly. She crossed her arms. “Now you want his help.”

Ren stared up at the ceiling to gather her breath. “Look, I wouldn’t ask the beefcake unless there was no other way.”

“Well if you want our help, you’ll stop calling him that, for starters.”

Ren blinked. “So you’ll help?”

“What choice do I have, Ren? I can’t bloody-well let the whole kingdom fall just because you’ve gone on another smuggling spree.”

Ren didn’t argue. Her lips curved. It’d been ages since they’d last had an adventure–and even longer since they’d gone anywhere without Beefcake McSwoony hanging around. As much as she’d avoided these team-ups (for obvious reasons she didn’t care to share), she had to admit, it would be nice to have her sister back on her side.

By Andromeda’s expression, she could already tell what Ren was thinking. “We fix this, and then I’m back here, doing my duty as Sorceress Supreme. Do you promise to be nice to Orion?”

 “Come on, who’s the big sister here?” Ren smirked. “I can be mature. For an afternoon. Now, go get your annoyingly handsome stud of a husband and let’s go rabbit hunting.”

“And me, Captain?” Ula asked.

“You help Percival pulverise the rest of the vermin. We’ll deal with the wizards later.”

“There are more?” Andromeda burst.

“We’ll send them to their swift graves with the utmost humanity,” Ren assured.

“If mother were alive, she’d–”

“Tell you what a wonderful daughter you are for helping your failure of a sister–again. Then probably complain that I ignored the Oracle’s prophecy and greatly shamed our family and the entire lineage of the Sorcerer’s Guild.” 

Andromeda’s eyes softened fractionally. She nodded. “Right. I’ll need my armour.”

“Sexy.”

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t forget the beef–I mean, Orion!” Ren called as her sister swept away, leaving the captain and her first mate alone in the immaculate marble halls.

“I’m dying of thirst,” Ren said, looking around. “You think they’ve got any of that cucumber water?”

#

“Don’t die, Captain,” Ula said with the sincerity of an undertaker.

Ren slapped her back. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Keep the others sane, will you? Can’t have them wandering through nearby villages telling peasants how the world’s about to end.”

“It’s not going to end,” Andromeda scoffed, brushing off an invisible speck from her pristine silver breastplate, which she’d donned over a set of white travel attire. Why did sorcerers insist on wearing white?

Her mountain-of-a-husband puffed out his chest next to her, his muscular arms bulging in a way Ren just knew he was flexing. The man had bricks for arms and about as much for brains–but he was nice enough to her sister. Still, Ren stifled an eye roll. “We shall recover these foul rabbits and repair the kingdom as though nought had gone astray!” Orion declared, his golden hand laid on the pommel of his sword.

“Yeah, totally,” Ren said with fake enthusiasm, sharing a last look with Ula before her first mate turned back to their landlocked airship with a good-luck wave. Being stuck in a carriage with Orion Steelsinger for the next two hours was going to be the ultimate test of resolve for Ren. “Got any snacks for the road?” Ren asked her sister brightly, ignoring her brother-in-law as she pulled open the carriage door. “After you, Mrs. Supreme Somesuch. Mr. Supreme Somesuch.”

Andromeda heaved a great sigh, picked up her skirts, and ducked inside.

Orion the Beefheaded followed his wife, clueless about anything that occurred more than three inches from his nose.

#

“We couldn’t, I dunno, loose a bunch of magical toads that are only poisonous to rabbits and let them do the hard work for us?” Ren ventured, picking at her cuticles as the carriage rolled along.

“No, no,” Andromeda dismissed. “That’ll throw off the whole ecosystem. They tried that in Aliaustra and look how that turned out.”

“The best strategy in battle is to meet your enemy head-on! Look him in the eyes before you dispatch him!” Orion clenched his hand into a fist to make the point.

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll be especially effective up against some winged bunnies with cute button noses,” Ren said flatly.

“How can rabbits exist in nature?” Orion wondered, oblivious. “Shouldn’t they have destroyed magic aeons ago?”

“Wizards,” Andromeda and Ren said at the same time.

“They concocted them in a lab. Always looking for some way to control magic and keep it from the rest of us,” Andromeda explained.

The carriage rattled, then stuttered to a pitiful, screeching halt. 

“Sounds like we’re here,” Ren said cheerfully and kicked open the door.

“Wait!”

Ren peered out both ways along the blank forest road. Fog had rolled into the trees, pressing against the coniferous needles. She walked around the unyoked carriage. Yep, the magic was definitely gone. Ren closed her eyes and strained to hear anything, but the forest was silent.

A voice, far too close for comfort, whispered, “What are you doing?”

Ren pulled one eye open, then the other to blink at her brother-in-law. “I’m listening to see if I can hear the rabbits.”

“Genius.” He closed his eyes. Ren stared at him. “Hm nope, don’t hear anything.”

“Come on,” Andromeda said, sweeping out of the carriage and down the road on foot. “Rabbits are drawn to large collections of magic.”

“So...?”

“The Elder Caves are nearby. There’s enough magic in those crystals to power an army of elephant automatons.”

“Errr. I don’t... I don’t particularly like crystals,” Ren said uncomfortably.

Her sister turned. “Well, I’m afraid now’s not the time to worry about some batty prophecy. If we don’t stop the rabbits, the whole kingdom will fall to ruin in a matter of days. Not to mention the paperwork if the Guild finds out.”

“What prophecy is this, my darling?” Orion asked, strutting in a way Ren could only describe as hyper-masculine. Ren trailed after the perfect couple, keeping a hand on her dagger although she really wasn’t much of a fighter. At least, not close up. Give her a cannon and an airborne combat against local law enforcement, and she was primo.

“Oh, the one my sister has been avoiding all her life,” Andromeda said. She glanced over her shoulder at Ren. “When I was born, the oracle told our mother that the two sisters together would become great sorcerers with the power to rule the kingdom and set about a new Order of magic.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Why wouldn’t you want that?” Orion asked.

“She missed the biggest part,” Ren grumbled. “One sister shall rise whilst the other falls.”

Andromeda gave a wry smile. “It’s all nonsense, Ren. All this prophecy mumbo-jumbo. That probably had to do with the time we climbed the big tree in our back garden and you fell off and broke your arm.”

Yes. And then her sister healed her arm, and voila! Their mother was so proud to learn of Andromeda’s abilities and carted her straight off to the Guild for training–leaving Ren behind to care for her as she grew more and more crazed in later years. ‘Unstable’, was the doctor’s medical analysis.

“But what’s that have to do with crystals?” Orion asked when Ren stayed silent.

Andromeda waved it off. “Oracles use crystals to make their prophecies. It’s said that if you look into one too closely, you might see your own death.”

Orion gave a low whistle.

“Yes, thrilling,” Ren snapped. “Can we please focus so we can get out of here? I have a dinner reservation at six.”

“The entrance is just up here.” Andromeda pointed through the trees.

Ren halted and narrowed her eyes. “How do you know so much about this cave?” 

Her sister gave her a look.

Ren pointed at her. “You went to check it out yourself! Ha! I knew you were worried about the prophecy.”

Andromeda crossed her arms. “There wasn’t much to worry about after you decided to become a law-breaking smuggler instead of following your ‘destiny’.”

To protect you, Ren thought. But Andromeda had always seen herself as the responsible sister. The one with all the duties. If only she knew. Ren just shook her head and walked past them.

“Darling,” she heard Orion say to his wife, “have I missed something?”

“Just sisterly things, dear,” Andromeda soothed. “Nothing to worry over.”

#

The cave was immediately cave-like in a way Ren didn’t enjoy. It dripped, stank of musty still water, and had an odd shift of air inside that made it seem like the darkness vibrated. Ren dug out a torch and lit it, pushing ahead as the other two followed. For the moment, she was grateful to have Orion with them. He was as good a swordsman as anyone, and without her magic, Andromeda was next to useless. Ren wasn’t much better, but at least she was used to playing powerless. 

Skittering. Snorting? No, snuffling. Something ahead. 

Ren looked at the other two over her shoulder and made a gesture with her chin. Andromeda nodded in understanding. Orion tilted his head in… not understanding. But he held his sword, so that was enough.

Ren shifted her grip on the torch and forged ahead, ready to bash anything sentient.

“Light ahead,” Andromeda whispered, so quiet it was no more than a breath.

Her sister was right. Ren stuck the burning end of the torch into a puddle. It hissed as it went out. Bluish purple light wavered over the earthen walls like trapped auroras. The crystals. Ren gulped and drew her dagger. She felt a hand on her arm and looked back.

Her brother-in-law flexed his jaw–flexed everything–and pushed ahead of her into the cave opening. Ren and Andromeda followed–into a space of hundreds, if not thousands, of multicoloured crystals, sticking upwards, backwards, and upside-down from every inch of stone in the cavern.

Ren could almost say it was beautiful… if not for the gnawing.

The rabbits had grown since Ren had last seen them mere hours ago, to the size of well-bred Dobermans. Each of the three vermin clung to large stalactite crystals, chewing on them with overlarge teeth, their wings folded behind their backs.

Orion took a step forward but Andromeda grabbed him, shaking her head furiously. “Not yet,” she mouthed. She turned to her sister and gestured between them meaningfully.

Ren did not grasp the meaning. “What?” she hissed.

“You’re the one so worried about this prophecy, so sure it’s true. If we combine our powers, we might have enough to get past the Siphoning.”

Ren stared. “I don’t have any powers.”

Andromeda glared back. “You can lie to your crew, and even yourself. But I know you, Ren.”

Ren shook her head.

Andromeda let out a shaky sigh and whispered, “If you really want to protect me, big sis, then help me do this.” She held out her hand.

If her sister lost her magic, she’d lose everything. Not to mention the millions of people above ground relying on it every day. And if Ren ever wanted to take flight in her ship again… She was going to have to do the right thing. Blast it.

Orion glanced back and forth. “What should I do?”

Ren gathered her breath. “Stab the uncle-fudgers if they get anywhere near us.” That seemed to satisfy Beefcake.

Ren took her sister’s proffered hand, and the two faced the magic-gorging rabbits above, who had yet to take notice of the three humans.

“What do I do?” Ren asked out of the side of her mouth.

Andromeda closed her eyes and raised her free hand toward the rabbits. “Believe.”

Ren snorted. “Oh, you’re serious. Alrighty.” She imitated her sister. “I super, super believe,” she said, thinking, that I really want to get out of here in one piece and get back to my pilfering and pillaging… Life was so much easier in the clouds.

“Now.”

Ren didn’t know what ‘now’ was supposed to mean, but she supposed it didn’t matter, because the magic she’d been repressing for the past fifteen years burst out of her all the same.

#

A few minutes later, Ren blinked her eyes open to Andromeda’s laugh.

“Well done! My beautiful wife, the Sorceress Supreme!” Orion shook his sword at the charred ceiling, where puffs of cotton floated down.

“You’re a sorcerer,” Andromeda said.

Ren wrenched her hand out of her sister’s. “Nuh-uh, not happening, pal.”

“But you could do great things!”

“Don’t want to. Thanks, but no thanks. I like my job.”

“Your job is illegal. And dangerous.” Andromeda gestured to the rabbit particles to prove her point.

“And more interesting than sitting around in a toga all day eating grapes and talking about the arcane climate.”

“That’s not all we do.”

Ren shrugged, like saying, close enough. She smiled at her brother-in-law. “Well done, Beefy. Real stellar bodyguard work.” Then she turned back the way they’d come and stomped toward the exit, careful not to look too closely at any of the crystals. She’d rather not know how she was going to die–or when. Sometimes, it was better to be clueless. She admired Orion for that much.

“What’d she call me…?” Orion asked in the delayed silence.

“Don’t worry about it, my love. It’s just my sister being herself again.” Andromeda trotted after her stubborn elder sister and lit the way with a bobbing globe of magic.

END.