Roads Converge

"Is she alive?"

Scarlett came back to consciousness slowly, hearing words as if she was underwater. The speaker was male, had a bit of a snooty accent. She tried to groan, to move but her limbs felt like lead and her skin hurt, nothing seemed to work properly. She had snippets of memories... of flying? Of hunting in the desert as a great cheetah, then resting. Then… What had happened? Why couldn't she move, and why did everything hurt so damned much?

"I think so, seems catatonic to me. Look at the markings on her, Sagacious! Tattoos, do you think?" Unable to react or even open her eyes, Scarlett instead focused on the voices. A woman had just talked, presumably to the snob-voiced man. And his name was Sagacious. Scarlett pushed her terror back down and tried to concentrate on the good in this situation. If they had wanted to rob or kill her, it would have been done already.

Wait.

What was that about markings?

"Hm. It does appear so, and yet they radiate powerful magics." A cool hand brushed the side of her cheek and she felt a warm sensation tingle through her, she smelled fresh baked bread and roasting apples. So, this stranger was a magic user, and this was his 'vibe'. He was trying to heal her!

"She's physically unhurt, but she's exhausted." The man pronounced solemnly. "Mentally? Who can say. She does appear to be traumatized to me, likely by whatever gave her these. Fascinating, they look like vines and flowers to me. What do you see, Isobel?" Well, that was concerning. Scarlett tried very hard to open her eyes and scream out for a mirror.

A second hand lightly touched her throat and then peeled back an eyelid. Searing sunlight created a halo around the face of a woman with chestnut hair, large doe eyes, tanned skin, and the most supple lips Scarlett had ever seen. "Pulse is strong, pupils do react to light," she looked down at Scarlett and made a worried face, "Oh! Sorry, I bet that's bright!" The eyelid closed again and blessed darkness reigned.

Scarlett's mind reeled, attempting to put together where she was, who these two were, and what in the nine hells they were talking about? This was becoming a bad habit. As another irresistible wave of exhaustion began to overtake her again, she heard the woman's voice again.

"I thought you said she had the cloak with her?"

With those troubling words, Scarlett drifted away again.

*****

Scarlett awoke in a dense jungle. All around her wild growth sprawled around a great emerald river that she found herself standing in. The current was gentle and caressed her hips and lower back, above her flocks of multicolored birds wheeled and flapped. She felt a school of fish dart past her legs, and saw the jungle around her teeming with life. No, that was wrong, she *felt* it all.

(Do you see? This is the Cycle. Beyond life is death and rebirth. The Goddess and the God.)

"Mae?" The voice was familiar, and Scarlett wept hearing it again.

(Yes and No. She is here, but that is not all.)

"It's beautiful. I am humbled here, Mae. Why am I here? What happened to me?" She paused for a moment, eyes wide in shock. "Am I dead?"

(No more than you were before.)

She reached up reflexively to grab the cloak, and panic rose as its familiar weight and feel was nowhere to be found. As she flailed about her, the lazy river flower impassively around her and she caught a glimpse of her own face. She gasped and raised a hand to her own crimson cheek, peering closely. Thin green vines snaked like tribal tattoos all along the left side of her face, orchids bloomed a rainbow of colors along those vines. "What. The. Fuck?"

(It was necessary to bond with you permanently. You were warned it would hurt.)

Memories of the burning pain that accompanied her shift to falcon form rushed back. Scarlett stared transfixed at her reflection, noting the vines snaked down her neck and collarbone, presumably even further. Her back ached in remembered pain, the water was cool and soothing as it flowed around her. She closed her eyes and submerged herself.

(You are part of an ancient struggle now, Scarlett. What was once one fate became two, symbolic of the Mad King's struggle against his chains. The angelkin will explain it all to you. Listen to him, but beware. Treachery and agents of the Other will surround him.)

Angelkin? Great, Mister fancy-voice was an angelkin. She disliked him already. She opened her eyes underwater and saw the sky above her filled with birds, the water cool and refreshing on her eyes, the great river washing her tears for Mae away. She could almost feel Mae's presence here, smell the floral perfume she used, Scarlett felt at peace here.

(You must heed his words, Scarlett. You cannot stay here forever, not yet. I need you to wake up. Wake up!)

*****

The day after Ciara had left Darruk with the High Priestess, she returned to collect her dull witted bodyguard. She had to admit, she was worried about him, and hoped that nothing too damaging was done to him. Quelling any semblance of guilt within her, she re-entered the cellar and waited outside the chapel until Darruk had emerged.

Ciara had grown up on the streets of New Vael, had seen a good deal of violence, had committed more than her share in fact, and she still gasped when she saw the wound that had once been Darruk's right eye. It had obviously been removed and replaced, a single onyx stood there now, glittering bleakly in the phosphorescent light of the cellar. Scar tissue and cauterized skin sealed it in place, and his other eye bore a haunted expression. The blonde haired High Priestess emerged from the shadows behind him smiling like a proud predator.

"Ah, Ciara. You may have your manservant back, I did my best to improve him, but, there was only so much to work with." She patted Darruk's massive shoulder, smiling as he shrank away from her.

Ciara stared at the face of her oldest companion and focused on the gem in his eye. It radiated divination magic. "I assume you will be able to monitor my progress through Darruk now?" It wasn't really a question, more of a statement of fact.

"Of course, Ciara." She laughed then, a delicate and calculated giggle of sinister glee. "No more failures. Poor fellow only has so many eyes."

Darruk shambled over to stand beside Ciara, he didn't even look at her as he passed, Ciara noted with some concern. She bowed to the High Priestess and spoke softly, "Thank you for your grace, High One. I shall not fail God a second time." She pressed her forehead to the cool stone in genuflection.

The elven woman placed a hand on the back of her neck in benediction and scratched lightly with sharp fingernails, drawing four fine lines of blood. Ciara held herself still and clenched her jaw in silent agony. Watching carefully for any sign of weakness, the Priestess nodded in satisfaction, raising her blood tinged nails towards the chapel and weaving a spell.

"Our God has blessed you Ciara, I should hope for your sake that you will not waste his gift of continued life." And true enough, Ciara felt her blood quicken, felt power thrumming through her

veins, and above all she felt anger. Rage like she had never known pounded in her temples, she was overwhelmed by it for a moment. Above her, the Priestess laughed exultantly.

Ciara stood and felt the blood trickle down the back of her robe, trying to harness the rage she felt as she spoke softly through clenched teeth as she turned on her heel to leave. "I know where the Enemy has been staying, we start there." Her own voice seemed to come from around her as the rage of Annatar flowed through her, empowering her. The image of the angelkin escaping taunted her mind's eye as she staked back out onto the streets of Memnon, bloody revenge on her mind. Darruk followed, implacable, silent and callous. Ciara vowed that this evening would be one that the angelkin would never forget. And if the devilkin apprentice was foolish enough to stand with him, she could just as easily remove the artifact from her corpse.