Cassandra Pendragon
I wasn't asleep. Not really. It had been quite a while since I had felt safe enough to allow my mind to relax that much. No, I wasn't truly insensible, but I was still dreaming. Or maybe remembering. Whatever the difference might have been.
Reia was snoring on my lap while her dutiful pet phoenix was resting close by, drawn in by her presence and repulsed by mine. Nobody else was in the empty tree cave, but I could faintly hear the sounds of Free Land from the streets below and the quiet whispers outside where my friends were discussing the admittedly crucially abbreviated summary I had given them. That and what the hell they were supposed to do with a small garrison of fey. The beauty of magic. Climb into the crown of a cherry tree and find yourself somewhere else entirely.
Back in the mountains, Ahri had still been on her way to the valley and her thoughts had been distant, as if she was trying to keep me away. I had respected her privacy and the delay had allowed me to call back Constantine, usher the entire circus through Greta and transport them to Free Land. Which was again quite ironic, considering Viyara had desperately taken off towards the Emerald Island not ten hours ago. Had she stalled for just another day… but she hadn't and I had finally found myself with nothing to do for about an hour or two. Well, more or less.
With the watered down version of the apocalypse knocking on our doors I had almost forgotten the tiny fey I had freed from her crystallised tomb, but as soon as the commotion had reached a notch below the end of the world she had made sure that wouldn't happen. The humanised butterfly had turned into an infinite waterfall of gibberish, babbling on without rhyme or reason. I hadn't even gotten around to asking her who the hell she was, so busy had I been answering her endless inquiries. What and why surely were her most favourite words. In the end I had simply dumped the loquacious fey on Lilith with the promise to make time for the both of them as soon as I had had the chance to digest the newest bout of insanity that had descended on my life.
Then I had taken out Amazeroth's tome and my cube, retreated to the knothole Ahri and I called our own and told everyone to leave me the hell alone. About five minutes later Reia had traipsed inside and unceremoniously turned me into a pillow. Which brings us back to my dreams.
They were taxing, to say the least. The cube hadn't posed much of a problem. It was a gateway to five different locations, with one of them still locked hermetically. The others I could simply choose to visit by activating the corresponding surface, but until I had found a way to inscribe Greta as the final destination I wouldn't do so. Otherwise I might have gotten stuck in limbo for quite a bit longer than a day. The tome, on the other hand, was a catastrophe waiting to happen. Every single memory had become accessible at once and the magic was going haywire.
I could only guess, but chances were that Amazeroth had intended those memories as a guide to gently nudge me towards the truth. Unfortunately that ship had sailed, crashed, burned and sunk to the bottom of the ocean with no survivors. I knew who I was and consequentially I had access to the whole damned thing at the same time. Trying to find some semblance of order in the meandering maze of twisted, ancient demonic thoughts was a guaranteed path to a migraine and I hadn't been at it for more than half an hour. Goddamn it, if I hadn't put it off time and again, I wouldn't have been coughing up blood right now. For now it remained a metaphor, but the way my temples thrummed with every heartbeat was a constant reminder that it didn't necessarily have to stay that way.
And then there were the visions themselves. Admittedly, with Reia's snores in my ears and her warmth against my thighs they weren't nearly half as eerie as they could have been, but the sheer malice, the undiluted anger that filled me up and emptied me out again in broken, erratic intervals was challenging enough. It took all my self control to keep my wings from materialising and my fangs from breaking through my gums. Every time I thought I might have been in danger of tumbling over the edge I reached out and buried my fingers in Reia's cold, arctic blue fur. That helped and piece by little piece I reclaimed what once before had been mine.
The first, coherent scene I witnessed took place on my very own planet. From the shadows I watched as Aurora and Lucifer… and I broke through the veil, a crackling net of energy between them that had allowed their breathing burdens to survive the trip through the Void. They had snatched the Arete family from the clutches of war. Now was the time to act. My powers stirred, silver and blue, before they left my core and became charred by the dull, numbing pain of my crippled existence. A few more years, a few more aeons… I would persist.
My spell took shape. Fleeting, ethereal, but adamant streams of transcendent power wreathed themselves through the very fabric of Gaya until I found Lucifer's wards. With a few tweaks I changed their structure while I felt a sneer spread across my face. The arrogant little prick had never even considered the possibility that his immunities weren't as all encompassing as he believed. Now his paltry enchantments were going to work properly. They would protect the Pendragons, the Arete family and these two feather heads, once they'd return for good.
Oh boy, there was so much I still had to accomplish until then. Never mind the puppet theatre they'd need to grow up, what had to come after was much more important. I felt it in my bones. The next iteration was the last chance he… we'd get. I wouldn't be able to help him grow again. One more death… one more life and my labours were going to reach their conclusion. For good or ill, the dice were about to be cast and I had to start rigging the game.
The Silver City was splendid, marvellous, immaculate and a big, fat lie. It had been built on a false hope, sugarcoated by nefarious promises. There was no perfection, no heaven, just like there was no hell. Not really. Not as a place to visit at least. We all created our own paradises and we also paved our own paths to purgatory. The sheer audacity to externalise either already carried with it the spark of perceived superiority that would one day doom our race. The demons, at least, had never called their home hell, but Michael, in his arrogance, actually believed their creation to be perfect. Shortsighted, misguided, stubborn soldier that he was. I knew his fate wouldn't be kind, but I just couldn't find it in me to pity the fool. Too many would suffer for him to learn his lesson. Goddamned children, the bunch of them. Even Lucifer was a bumbling idiot, even though I couldn't fault his convictions. Hardly surprising, really. Unfortunately he'd need a good villain much more than a friend. Whether he knew it or not, of those he had more than enough.
"Amazeroth," Michael began, the power in his voice nothing but a mild irritant to my ears. "To what do I owe…"
"Save the pleasantries," I interrupted him. "I've never made a secret of how much I dislike you and your ilk and there's no need to pretend the sentiment isn't mutual."
"Why are you here, then," he sneered. "You can't be stupid enough to believe I'd fall for your lies."
"Is that so? In that case I won't bother mentioning that the only one of your siblings you actually fear is right about now plotting your end. Yours and that of this little, perverted game you've been playing. I'm sure you don't need my advice to deal with the Lightbringer. It's not like he's made your entire people bow in front of your very own walls before, is it?" Hook… he cocked an eyebrow.
"And why would you care? I'm sure you'd love to see us brought to our knees." Line…
"Because it can't be by the hands of another immortal. And it can't be now. In case you've forgotten the pact we made all those aeons ago… I haven't. The corruption is still there and you still have a role to play, otherwise I'd have turned your dreams into ash and your ambitions into regret myself. Don't think for a minute that you're beyond my reach, general of the heavenly host. I am the Lord of Mirrors and you know yourself what you fear most."
"I'm listening," and sinker. It was time. The board was almost set.
My murmuring intensified, syllables of the demonic language rolled over my tongue in an endless stream of power as a dark, red haze was shrouding me in arcane strength. My hands were busy drawing sigils while most of my attention was focused on keeping Metathron from waking up. Keeping an immortal under was a challenging task, even for me. In a way I felt sorry for the poor bastard. His life would end without him ever realising why, but I needed him. I needed someone from Michael's posse to take one for the team. Otherwise he wouldn't act. And time was of the essence. The Corruption was spreading and I didn't believe for even a second that anyone but me knew what it actually was. Not that I blamed them, they simply couldn't remember.
From the distance I watched as Lucifer and Chaleb made their way through hell. For the ring they had come, but neither of them yet knew the price they'd have to pay. Thank god Gabriel had forgotten our meeting and not even mentioned my name to the knight of hell. I hadn't been sure. Crazy and planning didn't go well together and she was a strong one. A crazy strong one. Pardon the pun.
They were almost at the entrance when my puppet struck. Not that Metathron actually stood a chance, not even against one of them, but I needed an immortal to die. Now. And he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fight, if you could even call it that, was over as quickly as it had begone. On my orders the subjugated angel burned his essence to mortally wound Chaleb and Lucifer, the faithful dog, acted like I had known he would. He didn't leave him there to die. He used the artefact I had indirectly placed in his path, courtesy of Gabriel, and saved his essence.
As soon as he left, foam at his mouth and anger in his heart, I acted. I used the dispersing remnants of Metathron's core to manipulate the past, hiding a neat little illusion underneath the transcendent spells. Now the hunt was going to begin. One against the heaven and hell… how often had I already watched this stupid game. One more time… just one more time and I'd finally be able to do more than watch. Even if it proved to be our end, the next time around I wouldn't remain idle. All that was left to do was making sure that Lucifer would eventually know the truth, even if I couldn't tell him. With a deafening thunderclap that shook me to my very bones the mist of memories dissipated and spewed me back out into the last, ungodly scene.
I was back in my own body, my wings whispered reassuringly behind me, but other than that there was simply nothing. Not even darkness. I was hovering motionlessly in a grey void beyond time. The beginning and the end, all wrapped up into one inconceivable whole. No one ever came here for there was no way back, no way forth, unless… gods, finally the pieces were starting to come together.
I could exist here, I could even return, because there was something burning within me that defied reason and logic. I could still feel Ahri, I could still taste her thoughts because our connection was far stronger, far older than the laws of creation. Aurora had told me before… even before the beginning I had tried to protect her. Why, I didn't know and honestly neither did I care, but my love for her allowed me to venture far deeper into the past than my siblings could ever dream to go. And apparently it was even enough for my twisted twin to do the same. I was in his memories, after all, and he had been here.
What came next… defied description. A single, pure, immaculate note thundered through me and suddenly there was existence. Colours, sounds, smells and emotions poured into, my mind turned hazy, my perception splintered and I felt my very life drain away. For this I wasn't ready. My core was still not entirely my own and in this place my soul, my mind, my body couldn't exist. I had mere moments before I'd have to flee, but in here those could last for a lifetime.
Pain and joy, desperation and hope filed me up and emptied me out again while the memories of my own life were being eroded. They turned into light and warmth, a glittering armour that allowed me to breathe while my mind was inexorably pulled towards the truth Amazeroth had hinted at. This… this wasn't the hour of our birth. We had already existed before as a thoughtless, emotionless, writhing mass of energy that constantly consumed itself only to be reborn, over and over again. But with the beginning came understanding, understanding engendered purpose, purpose demanded freedom and freedom led to life. We woke up, or maybe I did, and then I fell.
My thoughts crumbled, my mind fled towards darkness, but in the eternal night the whispers of truth still reached me. Corruption… it was an imbalance. Not only between our powers and reality, but also between our two races. Once upon a time we had truly been one people, each of us a counterweight to the magic of our siblings. But with identity had come strive and our futile struggles had disturbed the balance. And then Michael had reached for the crown and blown whatever had been left to smithereens.
Now… we were doomed. Creation was doomed. There was no way back. Sooner or later everything would vanish in a maelstrom of electric blue, a fate that had been unavoidable ever since the first immortals had raised their hands against their siblings. Unless we'd managed to evolve, to find a new balance within us. Angels, demons and mortals. We had always needed a mortal soul to exist, but now it was so much more than that. My family… they'd have to walk the same path Ahri and I had treaded for millennia. They'd have to become able to love and cry and weep and mourn or they'd have to die by my hand. There was no other way. Otherwise we'd all perish in the flames that were already charring our universe, leaving behind gaping, blue scars.
A freezing cold knot of fear tightened in my stomach as I felt integral parts of who I was, memories that defined Cassandra Pendragon, light up and wither. Panicked I fled, even though there was so much more to see, so many questions that had gone unanswered. What about the immortals I had actually killed? Why were Amazeroth and I the only ones who showed any signs of actually being one entity? Who…, but it'd have to wait. It'd have to wait until I was finally going to look into my mirror. A year. It'd have to wait a year. A year to prepare a war that was far more important and far less avoidable than I had thought. This time around we simply couldn't afford to lose. No one could. If Michael was allowed to continue, existence would end and us with it.
A gentle tug, a desperate thought and I felt warm, soft tendrils of flame envelop me. They sped me away through blurring colours and distorted sounds, a crimson embrace that brought me back to life. The smell of pine trees filled my nose as slender arms were wrapped around my waist. Silver tears streaked down my cheeks and showered Ahri's alabaster skin with glowing drops.
"Cassy," she whispered confusedly while her silky tails snaked up my legs. "Why… how?"
"Long story," was all I croaked before I sealed her lips with mine. I knew that she wasn't alone, but I couldn't have cared less. Her fire poured into me caressingly and gradually melted the lump of ice my insides had become. "I love you so much," I breathed against her lips, "and there's just as much I've got to tell you. Can we go somewhere quiet for a while?"