The road up the hill wasn’t easy. Her unicorn struggled, but Shew begged it to keep on going.

“You can do it,” she whispered in its ear. “You’re no loser.”

Fear, in its most imminent manifestation, chained Shew’s soul. The worst thing about fear was the thinking. The more she thought about what could happen to her and Cerené if they were caught, the more the fear spread over her body like a crawling tattoo of Goosebumps.

“Be optimistic, Shew,” she told herself. “You can do it. Pretend you believe in the Chanta.”

No one’s helping you here, Chosen One. Her damn voice nagged her. Everyone looks up to you. They expect you to set an example, to be an idol, and an inspiration.

Shew fought the steepness of the hill, cursing the gravity that tried to pull her back down. She begged the sky to help her and pull her up the hill. Shouldn’t things like that happen in fairy tales?

“Damn all fairy tales for making me think living a real life was going to be a walk in the park,” she mumbled.

 “Can you ask the moon to help you?” Shew said to Cerené, fighting her way through.

“She doesn’t want to,” Cerené said. “She says this is your moment to shine brighter than the moon!”

“Easy for you to say, hanging up there like a plate dangling happily from the sky,” she spat her words up at the moon. It seemed she’d offended someone up there because at that moment it started to rain heavily.

 “Want to me to get off the unicorn and stall them?” Cerené spat rain at her.

“No!” Shew pulled Cerené’s arms tighter around her. “You don’t leave my sight. Understand?”

“I’m sure if I try harder, I can breathe fire like dragons at them,” Cerené said.

“Please, no,” she patted her hands again. When was Cerené going to realize that she wasn’t capable of creating fire like her mother? “Just stay with me, or they will eat you alive,” she told Cerené.

Shew urged the unicorn to fight its way up, “I can’t be the Chosen One. It surely is a mistake,” she mumbled. “How can I be when I’m always running away from something?” She had to run away, save herself and Cerené.

The unicorn struggled even more. The rain and snow complicated everything. The poor unicorn didn’t know whether to trot through or be cautious of slipping.

“Rain, snow, and bad weather,” Shew grunted. “Next I’m going to get a damn tsunami in my face…”

Shew’s unicorn stopped atop of the hill.  Speaking of tsunamis, there was nothing on the other side but the endless Missing Mile ocean, and it was a straight shot downwards to reach it. A large wave crashed against the rocks at the bottom as Shew sat paralyzed, looking at the endless water ahead.

“This can’t be,” she said, fear taking over her completely. Cerené’s eyes bulged out, speechless as her friend. They gazed back at the waving hordes of black cloaks and unicorns closing in, and then back at the ocean.

“What are we going to do now?” Cerené asked. “You think we should just jump in the ocean?”

“We could,” Shew said. “But that doesn’t guarantee we’ll live.”

“My mother said, you’d be immortal when you turn sixteen,” Cerené said.

“I’m not sure I’m immortal yet,” Shew said. “I don’t feel immortal. Maybe I have to split my heart first or something,” she said under her breath. “Even if I were immortal, you could die, Cerené,” she said.

“It was going to happen sooner or later,” Cerené said. “I’m glad I met you before I died.”

Shew squeezed Cerené’s hand tighter, “I’m glad I met you. You taught me how to live—in a very weird way, I suppose,” she turned her unicorn around, facing her approaching killers.

“What are you doing, Joy?”

The Huntsmen were in her face, only a hundred strides away. The Huntsmen were like time, and time was the greatest serial killer in history, it always arrived, never tick too soon, or a tock to late.

Shew took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and imagined the future. She imagined passing through this moment. She imagined surpassing all the pain, crossing over to a land of lilies and singing birds where she and Cerené were playing in the field. She imagined all the beautiful things that could happen later. It helped her lift some of the moment’s weight off her shoulders.

Then she opened her eyes.

Shew felt as if she was seeing the world with new eyes, the eyes of the future. If she were to cross this very dark hour, she had to see further than the length of her sword, further than the horizon, further that what logic and physical shortcomings permitted, and further than the imaginable. It was the only way to cross this moment: to long for the prize and reward of the future.

Cerené was shocked to see the Huntsmen slow down, a little cautious of Shew. Their yellow eyes dimmed a little. They were watching Shew watching them, and the air was charged with anticipation.

The hunter had become worried of the hunted, because the hunted was one step away from becoming the hunter.

Slowly, the Huntsmen made way for Loki’s unicorn, appearing from the middle. He stopped a stride ahead of them and pulled back his cloak. No amount of rain could wash away the darkness that stained him. He was bleeding from his scars caused by Shew and the glass dragon.

“I’ve never really had to go this far to kill someone,” he spoke. “Still, everything dies in the grip of my hands eventually.”

“I’m not in the grip of your hand, Loki,” Shew spoke back with the same seriousness and intensity.

“You will be,” he nodded. “Look at you, princess. You got the ocean at your back and me in front. Death doesn’t come any closer than this.”

“If I jump off this cliff and die in the ocean,” Shew said, “death will be yours because the Queen will kill you for not getting my heart.”

“I’m a good swimmer, princess,” Loki said. “I’ve even pulled a ring from the belly of a whale,” he said.

“Unlucky her who needed that ring,” Shew smirked.

“I’m no woman’s man, dear princess,” Loki said. “I’m not interested in you anymore. I’m not even going to give you the honor of killing you myself. I’ll let my hungry Huntsmen do it, just the way the Queen let’s her cats take care of the rats in the castle. You’re all alone now, princess. Who do you think will stand up for you?” He turned his unicorn to leave taking the same path he’d come from.

Loki disappeared, and his Huntsmen began approaching. Cerené’s heart beat so fast that Shew could feel it pumping on her back.

Instead of freezing, every step forward the Huntsmen took, Shew equaled it with another step forward. She wasn’t afraid of them anymore. If the Huntsmen were fear itself, she’d decided there was no better moment to face it.

About fifty strides away, the Huntsmen stopped. They pulled their cloaks back, showing their ugly disfigured faces, staring at the bold princess who stared back at them.

Cerené swallowed hard.

Each passing moment Shew looked at them, she gained more strength. Fear was just a coward like all of us sometimes. Dare look it in the eyes long enough and it will bow with respect.

A flat smile shaped the Huntsmen’s faces. It was like: really, are you looking back at us? Who do you think you are?

Shew made sure she did not flinch for a second. She raised her sword in the air, and one of the Huntsmen took a stride back. It was the beginning. Rights were taken step by step. Wars were won drop by drop of blood.

Another Huntsman stepped back. Shew could see the confusion building up on their faces.

She took a step forward and uttered one word, “Me,” she was answering Loki’s question when he asked her who’d stand up for her. “The worst thing about fairy tales is that they make you think you have to wait for the prince.”

The Princess of Sorrow, realizing she needed no mentor, no Chanta, no moon, rode down the hill and attacked.

It would be hard to explain what really happened. Shew swung her sword as if the Queen had really eaten her heart, and the heartless girl left was nothing but a beautiful monster. Shew was merciless, chopping off heads with one strike just as Loki did in Furry Tell. Everything her father taught her crystallized before her eyes. She even imagined herself wearing her father’s armor, killing the Intruders. Every trick, every maneuver, and every heartless swing was in the name of her father whom people feared all over the world.