243. Of rituals, sacrifices and a little bit of premonition

Cassandra Pendragon 

I felt like a ritualistic sacrifice. Weak and shivering in the middle of a softly glowing circle, its lines drawn with my own blood. The solemn, anxious people on the other side of the silver construct didn't help much, either. If one of them started to chant, I'd be out of here within seconds. 

No, I probably wouldn't. Considering how I had felt my strength slip away, second by second, minute by minute, while they had painted the sigils with painstaking accuracy, I wouldn't even get up the stairs, without help, never mind running from an angel and a dragoness, who could feel my very presence. Forlornly, I pressed my hand against the still bleeding cut on my wrist. It hadn't closed, yet, a further reminder, that I wasn't doing too well. Gods, it really was time to get this over with. 

Warm, soft fingers brushed against my cheek, while Ahri's voice whispered in my ear:

"We're done. Are you ready?" I nodded hesitantly and pushed my body into hers, clinging to her warmth like a drowning girl to a raft.

"As ready as I'll ever be. It's not going to get any better. How's Erya doing?"

"Still unconscious. You can worry about her, once you're off the hook, yourself. See you on the other side." She kissed my forehead and took her position at the conjunction of the swirling runes.

Aside from the shimmering, blood drawn sigils, it wasn't an impressive affair. My family, Viyara and Aurelia hovered at the edge of the circle, their eyes following my every movement. Mordred had a softly glowing gem in his hand, its surface carved with complex formations that supposedly mimicked the effects, Mephisto and Ignus had placed on the crystal, Ahri was now pressing to her chest. I'd have been much more at ease, if a good portion of our plan hadn't hinged on the spider, who called it home. It was much too late to chicken out, though, and I didn't have any better ideas. One way or the other, I'd be free.

With a final, reassuring smile, Ahri closed her eyes and the gem in her hands began to shine, a deep, pulsing red, almost like blood, dripping from an open wound. When she opened her mouth, a complex, alien incantation rolling off her tongue, I had to suppress a shudder. Her voice was the same, but the intonation was slightly different, ancient, sharp, precise.

The runes around me reacted to her words, currents of flickering, bluish light racing through the circle, while I felt a mounting pressure, somewhere deep within. Like a rotary, the light spun around me, becoming ever brighter. At first, the faces of my friends vanished behind a silver curtain, the outline of the room was next and finally, roaring with power, the runes ignited, silvery flames erupting from the sigils. The world burned around and the fires reached for me, a whispered invitation I couldn't resist. But I didn't even want to.

Letting go was easy. It was a relief, the constant pain, I had been in, vanished behind shackles of light and flame, while the magic of the circle took me away. I felt the curse squirm and strain, trying to marshal my own powers to resist, but they were already bound, chained to a foreign will, one it couldn't touch, it couldn't change. A dry sob escaped me, when I felt like myself again, bound and imprisoned, but alone… clean, the gruesome parasite nothing more than a powerless reminder of what had happened. So far, it had worked.

The flames flared and the room trembled, arcane forces tearing at the very fabric of its reality and with a thunderclap, that blew out the ravenous fires, the sigils dimmed and petered out. I was on my knees, amidst a smouldering pentagram, the additional signs and runes had burned away during the summoning. Faint, glowing lines were wrapped around my wrists, my ankles, even my neck, leading off towards the corners of the formation. They held me down and connected me to Ahri, exacerbating the link from our tattoos. She was… everywhere. Her presence, her will, her… love surrounded me from all sides, smothered my own thoughts until there was nothing left, but a burning desire to do whatever she wanted me to. Deep down, I felt a chill, the knowledge of how utterly helpless I was, sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't really care. Nothing mattered.

"This is going to hurt. I'll try to be quick." Dazed as I was, I could only nod, oblivious to everything but the sweet cadence of her voice. That was, until I felt tendrils of liquid agony dig through me, grasping for something I couldn't offer willingly. I screamed, my muscles cramped and I would have crumbled, if it hadn't been for the chains, that kept me upright. A reaching hand, a monstrous claw, tore through me, searching, always searching, until it came in touch with something else, something ancient, something hidden deep within me. It was then, that I realised, it had only just begun. Imagine your blood turning into acid, eating away at your life on its way to your heart, the very centre of your being. Every beat, every pulse makes it so much worse, while you wait for the sweet release of death, once it has finally devoured your very core.

I couldn't even squirm, bound as I was. I could only wait, wait and hope, my whole being twisted and warped by my desire to help, to strengthen her hold on me and my inability to cope with the sensation. Hot blood dripped from my eyes, the silvery river feeding a growing lake around me. I waited for the soothing blackness of unconsciousness, for a chance to flee the torments of this world, but the unyielding spell held me in place, kept me suspended and awake, while the magic, my magic, ravaged my body, my soul.

My thoughts became scrambled. My first kiss, amidst the burning embers of my home, the face of my father, before I had seen him for the last time, the heated embrace of passion and the cold, rigid bodies of the fallen, I had helped to bury, it all turned into a raging storm of images and sounds, a storm that swallowed me whole, that took me way. I laughed and cried, I screamed and begged but the storm wouldn't be placated. On and on it thundered, taking me ever deeper into my past, until I couldn't even place the scenes, it bombarded me with, anymore. 

Silvery streaks blurred my vision, a reflection of my tears, I could neither feel nor see, an echo of the disintegrating parts of my soul, as they were burned away to save, what was left. And then, when I was already convinced, that it wouldn't be enough, that I wouldn't have enough left to draw another breath, the surging tide subsided. Gradually at first, the onslaught weakened and my vision cleared, leaving me with a single image: my love, extending her hand to pull me from the depths, to guide me back to the lands of the living. Without thinking, I took it, allowed her to usher me along, while the world around me collapsed into something else.

I was atop the highest tower in the Silver City, marvelling at the infinite, ever changing magnificence of creation. It had been years, decades, since last I had been here, since last I had taken the time to actually look at the wonders, we claimed to protect. Life and death, splendour and decay, all wrapped up in one chaotic, endless stream, given shape by every minuscule decision, by every single living being, who dared to gaze upon creation. 

"We're all fools," I mumbled, "chasing shadows in a darkening cave."

"Why so glum, little brother," a deep, ingratiating voice called out from behind. I didn't have to turn around to know, who had come to visit me. Michael could be a pain in the ass, with his holier than thou attitude, but of all my siblings, except for her, he was probably the one I liked the most. Stalwart, strong, a reliable rock in a world of games and pride.

"Not glum… just melancholic," I corrected him, without turning around. "The war is over and we're back, where we started. Nothing has changed, but yet," I gesticulated towards the flickering lights in the distance, "life continues. With us or without us… tell me, brother mine, you've bled more than us. Don't you resent your own role?" Sighing, he came to my side and together, we watched, we watched and listened.

"Why should I," he finally asked. "We are who we are and I don't think my part is yet done. Neither is yours. Why bother with questions, we'll soon forget, anyways? We'll find a way, we'll forget the pain and we'll continue, as we always have. Don't burden yourself, Lucifer. Not even you are strong enough to change the world. Not alone." I laughed humourlessly. 

"Save the pitch. I'm not going to join your group of fanatics. Besides… you know as well as I, that I've changed. You've never asked me, how. I wonder why. Don't you care?"

"I already know. I can taste her presence, I can smell her spark… and I'm proud of you. You managed to right a wrong, my own ambition has blinded me to. I should never have taken them, but I wanted to win. It's who I am. And you wanted to do the right thing. It's who you are." Surprised, I finally glanced at him.

"I thought, you'd be furious. I slew your soldiers and I took your price, no matter how ill begotten."

"The ones you killed are alive and well, better than they have been for aeons. It was their time. As for my price… I'm glad they're gone and I'm glad she's still with you. I'd never have figured it out, if it hadn't been for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your bond. Yours and Aurora's. Don't think I haven't noticed. She harbours one of the descendants, as well, doesn't she? The two of you put me on the right path. Nine families, nine immortals… who'd have thought, we had already created the missing link, without ever realising?"

"You… want to follow in my footsteps?"

"Perhaps. But all in good time. First, we have to make peace, a peace that might last."

"But… they're all dead. You killed them all! How…"

"We didn't. Don't ask how, for I will not tell, but more of them are alive, than you imagine."

"Suicide," I hissed. "You can't… have you forgotten, who I am? I survived. I. Survived. You won't."

"And what about Aurora? She seems quite healthy, for a corpse. Relax, I won't do anything stupid. I don't even plan on doing anything at all, in the foreseeable future. But who knows? Angels and demons, living side by side? Anything can happen. I like to be prepared."

"Another weapon…I should have known. Haven't you learned? It's not about power, it never was."

"It always is. I don't want to get into the same argument, again, but while you marvel and enjoy, I have a people to protect. Don't lecture me, Lucifer. We are, who we are." His steely wings whispered in the darkness, as he unfolded them. "You might become someone else, but I can't. Not yet, at any rate. Please, why can't we, for once, just enjoy the view? I don't want to fight."

"Then, maybe, you shouldn't have brought up the families," I snarled, "nor what you did to them. I'm not going to allow you…"

"Allow? Boy, you're not my master. You did good. Entering hell, threatening heaven… forcing us to leave the past behind. You accomplished much, but that doesn't make you invincible. I'm still the protector of the Pearly Gates and this is my kingdom. Don't go too far."

"Your kingdom? Michael… your task is to protect, not to govern. Don't mistake me for one of your cronies, I don't fear you. Don't push me."

"Maybe you should. If it wasn't for me, you'd be facing the entire host, by now. It was me, Lucifer, who convinced them to play by your rules. Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have allowed the war to reach its natural conclusion. I'm getting tired of it all. Where's the ring, Lucifer? Where have you hidden it?"

"And there it is. The real reason why you're even here. It's gone, Michael, out of reach. You won't touch it and neither will another angel. Once the contract is sealed, I'll return it to whom it belongs. And even with all your might, I'd think twice about challenging the Lord of Mirrors."

"Are you insane? That… charlatan might just as well break, what little stability we've gained. Don't be stupid. At least keep it yourself." I chuckled mirthlessly.

"You'd trust me with it? Or do you want it somewhere close by? I hate to disappoint, but I'm not going to stay, either. Once our memories are sealed, I won't return, neither to heaven, nor to hell." I paused, weighing my next words carefully. "You could come with, you know?" He relaxed, his wings vanished with a sound like rustling silk and he smiled.

"To watch you and Aurora frolic in the sun, while I mourn what I can't have? No, thanks."

"What? You're not trying to hold me back? I always thought you liked me."

"Sometimes more, sometimes less, but I'm not going to be sorry to see you gone. You're… different, you always have been, even before you…" he gesticulated up and down. "It doesn't matter. You leaving might be the only way forward. I forgave you… others aren't as lenient." The scent of ozone and the crackling of power filled the darkness, as my wings manifested.

"Are you threatening me," I asked quietly, through clenched teeth.

"Don't be a fool. I'm on your side, as you very well know. But… you can't just appear before us with an ultimatum and expect everyone to play along." 

"They agreed, they bloody well knew, what they were doing."

"Indeed, but once you surrender your leverage, I can't imagine that a few of our siblings won't try to pay you back. If you aren't here, though…"

"Out of sight, out of mind. Especially, when there's no reason to remember. Believe it or not, I think I'm going to miss you. Faults and warts and all. For a stuck up soldier, you can be pretty wise. Which begs the question… why did you steal my essence?"

"You know about that? Of course you do… you saved his daughter, after all. Have you ever heard the story of the frog and the scorpion?" I nodded hesitantly. As the story goes, a frog and a scorpion met at a raging river. They wanted to cross the water and the scorpion asked the frog, if it would carry him to the other side. The frog refused, at first, afraid the scorpion would sting it. "Why would I," the scorpion explained. "I'd die seconds later, I can't swim." Finally the frog agreed and when they reached the middle of the river, the scorpion stung the frog. "Why," it asked with its dying breath. "It is my nature," answered the drowning scorpion.

"I told you," he continued, "we are, who we are. I am the guardian. When Amazeroth was sacrificed to level the scales, I had to do something. If there is one thing I know, it's your stubbornness. You won't become enthralled, neither by angels, nor demons. Ancalagon was never coerced into a fight. He chose his battles willingly. His death wasn't in vain. Without him and his family, you wouldn't have had to work so hard, for we would have lost."

"Why did you take his daughter, then? Why punish him?"

"I didn't punish him. I thought her blood held the key to break the other eight families free. Maybe it did, we'll never know, but I was and still am willing to sacrifice for my people. Only that time, it wasn't me, who had to pay the price. If I had thought, for even a minute, that I could have reversed, what the demons did, even by burning my own essence, I would have done it. But I never believed it. My blood isn't our salvation… but yours might just be enough."

"Doesn't that mean, you're going to spill it, sooner or later?" I asked anxiously.

"Not now, little brother, and if it's up to me, never, but I can't tell, what the future holds."