Dusty steel walls, gray as dark thunderclouds on the eve of a storm. Furniture almost nonexistant, with only a tiny wooden dresser, a tiny wooden nightstand, and a tiny wooden bed to call her own. Decorations? Perish the thought! The walls were as barren as the far stretches of Jurgana. All she had were the bland, verbrose books about other countries in Mondor and their history, and the few picture books she borrowed from other nobles, on the rare occasion she was let out of her room.
These books were her only company most of the time. Only the stories of girls with fairy godparents to weave them dresses to go to the ball and sweep the prince off his feet, of tiny girls the size of one's thumb escaping arranged marriage after arranged marriage and riding on the back of a bluejay through the sky to find someone just right for her, and of heroes of all shapes and sizes teaming up to take down an evil sorcerer could ease the troubles in the young girl's heart. She often imagined herself as one of these heroes and acted out the part all on her lonesome. Sometimes the guards would come by and tell her to pipe down, but she would always pick up her one man play once they were far enough away. When you had no friends, you just had to make up your own, and play the role for them.
Not that her father liked any of this, of course. Thought that she should just be seen, not heard. "Princesses shouldn't get any fanciful ideas about the outside world," he always said in that voice that reminded her of three cellos playing deep notes in unison. "Princesses should just do as they are told."
Shiela Cunningham then had to sit in her room, day by day, doing nothing but reading the boring books her father ordered her to.
Then, the news broke out. She overheard the guards panicking about the downfall of several small time nobles: Baron Jack, Count Christopher, Viscountess Yulana... all of them falling like dominos at the hand of a particular person.
"Him and his bloody sword and scepter tore 'em to pieces!"
"Yeah, he didn't know the definition of mercy, not one bit. Wasn't he the one who brought down the Clockwork Count?"
"If I remember right, yes. Stubborn man, he is. Princess Petra's got her eye on him, fer sure..."
Her curiosity knew no bounds, and it only grew when her father went to the princess a few years later for factory arrangements and a truce. She remembered wandering around the halls, searching every nook and cranny and greeting every new face along the way. Everybody seemed to be absorbed into their own thing, talking about an impressive ball that they just had to prepare for! Nobody really had time to talk to her, and she was getting lost within the giant maze of a castle. Almost broke down and cried...
Until she heard the distinct jingling of bells.
Shiela turned towards it and saw a jester-capped man, with a sword and a scepter and a cape. He looked like one of the heroes from her picture books! She stared at him, unsure of how to greet him, until she forced the words out of her mouth.
"Um... excuse me!"
The jingling stopped as the man turned to her.
"Yes?"
Thump, thump. Her heart pounded hard against her chest.
"Are you... are you like... um..."
The words jumbled up as she stammered, but the man was really patient. He even knelt down beside her, head tilted to the side!
"You're one of those hero guys, right?" she finally managed to say after several minutes of her words tripping over themselves like a stampede of animals. "With swords and staves and magic, right? You look like you beat up a dragon! Or two dragons! Or... or.. or maybe even an evil sorcerer that can turn into SEVEN dragons!"
The man let out a small chuckle and smiled. "Some might consider me one, for felling someone they deemed evil," he replied. "Others might paint me as a villain. Depends on perspective, you see. Sadly, I don't remember slaying any dragons, but I did defeat an evil sorcerer... Perhaps two."
"Oh my god this is so cool I'm meeting an actual hero oh my god can I hold your staff thingy or your sword or something oh my gooood"
The next few moments were the most memorable, as the man allowed her to hold a sword and a scepter. She was even invited to his room so he could teach her a little magic! It was possibly the happiest moment in her life.
Of course, when she was inevitibly called over to return to her father and go back home, she couldn't help but cry.
"But I don't want to go back home!" she said. "It's too boring and I'll be stuck in that room again and Daddy won't like me doing anything fun because he's a big poopyhead!"
"But Your Highness," pleaded the maid, "if you don't, he will be rather... angry, yes! Very, very angry! You must go before his patience runs out!"
"But I just made a friend and he's a hero and he's so-"
She sniffled back her tears before she grumbled, "Fine, I'll go back..."
The little princess almost left without a goodbye, with the maid dragging her right out. However, both were stopped when the friendly man said, "Hold a moment, if you could."
The maid stared at him as if he were crazy. "But Sir Hansel, her father beckons-"
"I shall handle him myself, and give him my apologies for holding his daughter back. It won't take but a moment, anyhow." He then turned towards the little princess and asked, "Your father keeps you in your room all day, with no company at all?"
Shiela nodded her tiny little head.
"Not even the company of guards? Or other nobles?"
"Nope. Dad says I don't need friends. Or company. He didn't change his mind even when mom told him it wasn't good for me."
"Hmmm." Hansel put a hand on his chin, deep in thought. "How puzzling. I don't see any reason why a king would isolate his daughter so, if she is set to rule..." He rushed into his room and fetched a pen and paper, then scribbled down something before handing it to the little princess. "If he denies you company," he said, "then perhaps letters will do instead? Writing always helps get feelings on paper, and it is a nice way to stay in touch with people from far away lands. If you ever feel lonely, you can try sending a letter to me. I'd be more than happy to send a letter back!"
She stared at the paper like he gave her solid gold.
"R-really? I can write to you and stuff?"
"I don't see why not. Besides, it does no good to have to keep all of your feelings to yourself."
Her smile was bright enough to light a room as she replied, "Then I'll write letters EVERY week and we'll be best friends! Hero buddies! The very best hero buddies! I mean..." She looked down at the floor again, foot drawing circles in the ground. Then she looked up with sparkling eyes and said, "I wanna be a hero, too! Someone people can look up to and stuff!"
Hansel smiled back before heading to his desk and pulling one more thing out to hand to the princess: a star-shaped brooch, with a bright pink gem in the middle.
"Then consider this a gift, from one hero to another. It was a good luck charm for one of my good friends. I hope it will serve you well, your Highness."
"Just call me Shiela! It's better than calling me that. Unless you're in front of Daddy or something. Daddy is strict with that sort of stuff!"
Yes, she remembered that day like it was yesterday. And she remembered writing letters that she would sneak out of her room to deliver to the post office... and sneak out to retrieve responses, too! Every letter was fun to read and full of advice only an experienced hero could give.
And now... freed from her cage by the aid of Princess Sonika...
---------------------------------------
She maaaaay have went a little overboard.
Sparks flew from the robots, with more holes in their chasis than a slice of swiss cheese. The clockwork roks were nicely shish-kabobbed onto her spear, sputtering clouds of smoke once she pulled them off. Cyborg nobles groaned in pain, bumps and bruises visible all over their skin just as well as dents all over their machinery.
"Whoops!" Shiela Quartz said all too late at the giant mess she made around a noble's factory. "Belinda might not like this; I think I broke too many things."
Just as she said that, some of the other machinery, once used to manufacture gunblades and laser spears and other odd weaponry, exploded and caught fire.
"Guess she can't really use this unless she fixes it up. Maybe I shouldn't have rained holy comets everywhere?"
The girl began to dust her dress and armor off, wiping away some of the oil that got on her. She also adjusted the winged hairband she kept in her hair, her idiot hair flopping in the wind, withering when the smoke became thicker from everything simply giving up the ghost.
As she turned away to leave, Shiela said to herself, "Either way, at least it was good exercise! Now, lets see if I can convince Count Evans stop putting out sludge in the rivers, and maybe I'll end up with a big enough reward that I can really go to Vegas to meet all sorts of cool heroes!"
And as she did, she cluched her star-shaped brooch tightly in her hand, hoping her greatest wish would come true.
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