Page 45 of Off with Her Head

Now comes the most dangerous part—leading her to the Blood Tree sapling.

As we exit the castle grounds and enter the wild borderlands, there’s a subtle shift in Mara's pursuit. Her confidence now wavers, uncertainty falling over her as she detects a shift in the environment.

The roses. They line our path now, those stunning blooms and their magic. They turn toward us as we pass, then orient away from Mara as if rejecting her.

"What is this?" she demands, flaring defensively as she notices the roses' reaction. "What have you done to my kingdom?"

"This is not your kingdom," Scarlett corrects as we force her deeper into the Wood. "These roses recognize theirtruequeens."

Mara's rage erupts through the ground around us, forcing us to adjust our path slightly. But the detour works to our advantage, leading more directly toward the clearing where the Blood Tree sapling awaits.

"You think these pitiful flowers can stop me?" Mara snarls, lashing out with her power to wither roses as she passes. But for each bloom destroyed, two more emerge from the earth, the network expanding faster than she can consume it. "I've drunk from the original source of all magic! I will unify what was never meant to be divided!"

"You've corrupted what was meant to be balanced," I spit, drawing her attention back to us as we near the Wood's edge.

The trees themselves seem to respond to our passage, branches shifting to allow us easier travel while creating obstacles for our pursuer. The path winds confusingly—appearing to lead deeper into Underland territory while actually circling toward the sapling's clearing.

Mara's frustration grows visible. "Even the trees conspire against me," she hisses. "But they cannot prevent what must happen. The original state must be restored!"

"On that much, we agree," Scarlett calls back, magic flaring to illuminate our path forward. "But method matters as much as outcome."

We approach the clearing, the sapling's presence now detectable. Its power pulses in response to our proximity, recognizing its queens.

For a moment, doubt clouds my resolve. Are we leading her directly to the one pure source that might counter her? Or have we miscalculated the sapling's strength, its ability to withstand Mara's corrupted power?

Scarlett senses my concern, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly.Trust the balance, she reminds me.Trust what we've created together.

I nod. We've come too far to waver now. There’s no going back.

With one final burst of speed, we enter the clearing where the Blood Tree sapling grows. Its crimson bark gleams in the strange light, silver-red leaves shimmering with power.

We position ourselves on opposite sides of the sapling, creating a triangle whose third point remains empty—waiting for Mara to occupy it.

She enters the clearing moments later, sickly power flowing before her like a noxious tide. But at the clearing's edge, that tidehesitates. The perfect balance established here creates a natural barrier against its imbalance.

Mara pauses, her form shifting as she assesses the clearing. Her gaze moves from us to the sapling between us, confliction in those black-pool eyes.

Mara hesitantly steps fully into the clearing, but as she approaches, the perfect symmetry of the clearing shifts,realigns, creating a containment pattern with Mara at its center.

The sapling responds to her proximity, its leaves turning to face her directly. But rather than withering under her assault, it glows with power—pure, balanced energy that pushes back against Mara.

"What is this?" she demands, redoubling her effort to reach the sapling. "What trickery have you conjured?"

"No trickery," I reply, magic flowing from my hands into the earth beneath us.

"Magic seeks balance, not dominance," Scarlett reminds her, her magic joining mine, flowing through the soil to connect with the sapling's roots.

Mara’s head cocks to the side as she becomes increasingly confused.

The sapling between us grows visibly now, drawing power from us. Its trunk thickens, its branches extend, its roots spread deeper into the earth—not yet matching Darkmore's ancient Blood Tree, but no longer a fragile sapling either.

The sapling absorbs Mara’s sickly power as she thrusts more at it, depleting her reserves at an exponential rate.

Realization dawns in Mara's black eyes—not fear, but recognition that she has failed here. She attempts to retreat, but the clearing has other plans. The containment pattern tightens, the trees at the perimeter interlacing more completely, the sigils in the soil glowing with increased intensity. Mara finds herself completely trapped.

"Queens," she pleads, desperation entering her voice. "We seek the same outcome, really—"

"We differ in everything that matters," I reply flatly, maintaining the containment while Scarlett channels additional power to the growing tree. "You would destroy what makes each magical tradition unique in service to your own dominance."

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