Gun and Switch

She sprinted through the midday market, adrenaline coursing, head pounding. The booming city centre of Aubrey lay just ahead. Merchants, traders, goblins, Hammerfolk all gathered in one small square spending their hard-earned money on supplies to last them until the next market, which usually came every quarter-solstice. This provided a decent hiding place. The girl lost herself among the people, hood up, a dangerous smile playing on her lips. Behind the princess was her father's Gun. He would kill her if he had the chance. But that chance was not to present itself. Not yet.

She slowed her pace, matching that of the locals that she hid among, blending in was essential for her to survive. It was not fear she felt, but excitement. Her body was brimming with exhilaration, feet moving, hands jittering. The Wintrin Princess clenched her fist, adrenaline pumping through her still. She took a left, then a right, then another right until she saw the sight that she had wanted to see since a little child. The Aubrey Gate. The Seerfolk talked of the Being arriving from that gate, building the world around them from nothing but chaos. The Seerfolk talked of the Being's next arrival, and the blessings it would bring. The Wintrin Princess listened with great intent to their words, taking in the meanings and spinning images of a great being, almighty and omniscient raising entire continents with a wave of a hand, razing planets with a click of the fingers.

The Wintrin Princess was born a High Royal, the noblest of titles a person could claim. Tattooed on her inner wrist was the High Royal Emblem: two intertwined branches with a star at the zenith. The tattoo often sent waves of pain through her. The princess felt that very tattoo as she walked through the magnificent, amber-coated gates. Really, Aubrey was a marvel, and could have been considered one of the wonders of the world. Its sprawling limits matched no other as the city spanned for hundreds of miles. At the centre of it all was the Clockheart Tower, a great spire built by the first settlers of the world. The Harnics, they were called. The Wintrin Princess's father believed that the High Royals were descended from The Harnics, although there was no evidence to prove such a thing, save for the strange energy that flowed through the women of the great family.

The Wintrin Princess darted through and across paths and roads, all leading to the great Clockheart Tower. She looked carefully but quickly at the signposts that had a habit of appearing every couple-hundred metres. The princess was looking for a sign that led to The Carriageway. She found such a sign not two minutes later. She had no time to stop for the Gun was still close behind.

The princess flicked her hand outwards, and a tiny creature darted through the air, stepping on the wind, using the gusts as fuel to launch its tiny body. The princess saw nothing but what the creature saw. She cursed under her breath. The Gun was closer than expected. Only a few people behind her, the Gun noticed the creature and tried to grab it out of the air. But the creature was nimble and avoided each grab. The princess cursed again. Such awful behaviour for someone of her status. But what did she care? She was exiled a year ago.

The Gun almost definitely knew exactly where and who the princess was among the crowd now. He began pushing people aside to make a beeline straight for the princess. The princess panicked, and the only thing she could think to do was stupid, airheaded. But she did it anyway.

Cold.

This was the sensation the princess felt as she grabbed onto the nearest person. Her mind ebbed and flowed with the thoughts transferring from one body to the other. In less than a few seconds, the princess had taken on an entirely new body. The body she had just left collapsed. Certainly dying. The princess turned for only a moment to watch the Gun catch the body, only to see the empty shell. The Gun cried out in frustration.

All of a sudden, the princess's head pounded with rage. The person in the body before was trying to get out. The Wintrin Princess was mere seconds away from reverting to her original body, the one she had left behind so many towns ago. And that would mean death.