407. Of futility, anger and an old acquaintance

Cassandra Pendragon

"They persuaded me to wait," Ahri continued, "at least for a few days. Arthur didn't even think about leaving. If it hadn't been for him… our link wasn't severed, but suppressed. We wouldn't have been able to find you, he reckoned, and since your disappearances mostly herald chaos and mayhem we'd be better served if we tried to deal with the problems we could actually tackle. Which meant continuing like nothing had happened. With two changes. There was hardly a point in trying to figure out the meaning of the soul sigil anymore and Viyara and Aurelia weren't willing to accompany Aglaia and Indigorath. Your mother went in their stead. The dragoness and vampire should arrive on the Emerald Island any hour, now. Without you we couldn't even open the passage to Greta's roots and the dragoness volunteered to carry everyone who wanted to come. Greta even entrusted one of her seedlings to Estrella. To be honest, Viyara has been listening in ever since our tattoos activated again. The poor girl is waiting on tenterhooks for you to contact her. For a flying, almost transcendent snake she's still surprisingly shy from time to time." I released a breath I hadn't realised I had been holding. Nothing had happened, they were all perfectly fine. Except for the mess I had made once again, crumbling realms and the like. 

For now the question remained if our plans needed to be altered, but without knowing why Lilith had been reduced to a cognisant spark it was hard to judge. Never mind that I didn't have the foggiest what might have happened to the merfolk with Gabriel gone. I didn't even know what she had done to them. Gods, we'd have to guess again and that, more often than not, had been very detrimental to our health. Unless I found a way to figure out what the hell was going on our our islands. Were our realm neighbours already manifesting left right and centre? Maybe our new, bundled up friends would provide some answers if we asked, very nicely of course. 

Now, as a quick explanation, you might be wondering why I didn't fret over or immediately try to leverage the soul crushing revelation Amazeroth had shared with me. The answer was pretty simple: whatever was I going to do? When it came down to it nothing much had changed. I'd still have to face the Emperor sooner or later and I wasn't afraid of his pet demon anymore, but I was also entirely convinced that my last transformation would undoubtedly trigger as soon as I'd come face to face with Amazeroth. Which meant I had to postpone our meeting for as long as possible, which in turn meant that there wasn't much to be done. My motives might have been different, but I still had to do everything in my power to unite Gaya's people. Otherwise they'd turn to dust within a year and I had already shed way too much blood and tears to protect my home. I wasn't going to stop now. Also, as soon as I had found my way back… or rather Ahri had pulled me back from the land of the dead I had felt my cube and the tome unlock entirely. Something else to deal with before I'd even consider facing the… my demon.

I pushed myself away from the weeping willow when a cold breeze, that smelled of frozen earth and matted fur, blew through the clearing and shook a shower of snow from its branches. The forest groaned behind me as the wind travelled further, eliciting an eerie, almost human sound from the trees, bent under their white burden. Unconsciously I reached up and draped my tresses around Ahri, trying to keep her warm even though I knew there was no natural force that could extinguish her flames. She was just so tiny that I wanted to protect her without even realising. Surprisingly she didn't mind and even snuggled up against my neck.

"Do you know where we are," I whispered. In response she hummed contently and explained:

"More or less. I can tell you that my body is a few hundred miles that way. Should be south, right? Considering how large the Emerald Island is, we're probably still on it. In the northern reaches. Not many elves live here, it's too cold, even though we aren't far enough north for the days to change meaningfully. It's autumn and the sun is still rising and setting. There'll be only a few hours of light, though, and the temperatures at night might become deadly for our mortal prisoners."

"When the sun sets they'll be either free or dead," I replied and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fine. I'm dying to hear your story, Lilith, but that's better kept for another time. Two of our guests are listening in and I don't know how much they can understand. Let's leave it for a time when we know who they are." I tilted my head to the side and listened for a moment. "Reia and the girl should be out any second now. She's stopped crying. Let's hear what she's got to say." I jerked my head in the direction of a naked tree close by where five people hung like fruits. "If they're responsible for her state I don't quite care what's going to happen to them but I'd rather know for sure before breaking their minds. Maybe they didn't…"

"We never touched the girl," a deep, sonorous voice rumbled. With a cocked eyebrow I turned on the spot, meeting the defiant gaze of the oh so mighty master. Apparently he was done pretending to be asleep. His face was scrounged up in concentration as he worked some kind of magic to communicate with us and the rather ridiculous impersonation of a curing ham he had turned into didn't exactly add gravitas to his appearance. All in all he looked like a dishevelled crow, a far cry away from the imposing leader I had met.

"Is that so," I asked mockingly. "Then pray tell, why should I believe you? Your impeccable manners surely didn't ingratiate yourself with us. Do you always try to chop off an arm when someone steals your provisions?"

"Provisions," he echoed incredulously, his face turning a marvellous shade of pink. "Those fruits aren't provisions, they're more precious than you can even imagine, witch. If she had been caught by anyone else, she'd have been put to the sword by law…"

"Law," I scoffed. "Which law? You're not at home here, boy, and your laws aren't worth the dirt on your face. You have one chance. One. Tell me what happened."

"I like it when you act all high and mighty," Ahri purred quietly against my cheek. "If I didn't know any better I'd almost believe you."

"Not helping," I grumbled telepathically. "Not at all." Luckily the trussed up decal of a Chinaman took my frown for what it was: a sign of my displeasure. The description of what I had done was still ringing in his ears and for now he seemed to prefer cooperation over defiance. Especially when my wings manifested and I cut him down, his bound limbs hitting he hardened earth with a dull but very much audible thud. A second later he even started to cough and his smell hit me. Unfortunately he hadn't come into close contact with water, never mind soap, over the last days.

His hands were still tied, curtesy of the second hide Reia had plundered and we had cut into straps, and he was fervently blowing on his red fingers. Another quarter of an hour and frost bite would have set in. I'd have to take care of his humble harem quite soon but for now I thought the backdrop of his concubines dangling from branches might do more good than harm. At least it stood to reason that he'd think twice about pissing me off or lying to me. Not that I'd have taken out my grievances on the girls, but he didn't need to know that.

Hoarsely he replied, his hands travelling to his throat to clutch it tightly, even though we hadn't strangled him. Biting cold can do that to you. "Nothing," he croaked. "One second we were wandering through the golden plains on our way to Jin City and the next we were stuck… somewhere. When we finally managed to escape the darkness we came to this frozen hell of a place and the first thing we saw was a slave girl who stole a decade's worth of my families labours. Oh, right, when we meant to take back our property we were abducted by a witch, who thought it prudent to treat us like mistletoes. By all the ancestors, what have we done to deserve your anger?"

With a few quick steps I reached him and pulled him up by the hem of his tattered robe. "Let's think," I mused, our noses barely a handspan apart. "You threatened me and then you skewered me like a roast. Honestly, judging from what you've mentioned about your laws, I'm decently convinced that I could have skinned you alive and tailored myself a new coat out of your hide without anyone complaining. Wanna guess why I haven't, yet?"

"I don't need to guess," he spat. "I heard you before. You want to know where we're coming from because you're afraid that my family will soon be breathing down your neck." I blinked. 

"Afraid? Boy, you can bring all the coolies you want. I couldn't care less." Coolies? He really was getting under my skin admirably fast. "Here, let me show you." Ahri knew what I wanted and she darted away and into the cave, only to return a second later, carrying a satchel thrice her size. With the utmost contempt I produced one of the four fruits inside, my eyes widening imperceptibly when I saw its mother of pearl sheen. A silver glow burned in my eyes and I had to avert my gaze, since the glare was almost blinding to my second sight. No wonder he had acted like a headless chicken when they had been stolen. A small smile tugged on the corners of my mouth as I took a huge bite, savouring the sweet, almost ethereal taste. 

His face contorted and while I was trying to puzzle out what the fruit could possibly be he erupted: "Fuck your ancestors for 18 generations!" Really? It couldn't get much worse than that. Apparently I was still underestimating the value of my lunch. While his spit was flying I provocatively nibbled on the fragrant pulp. The thing tasted a bit like cherries. No wonder I enjoyed it. A few seconds later he breathlessly ended his tirade: "have you any idea what you've done? You just condemned an innocent girl to a cruel death. May the heavens strike you with thunder, the Jiang family only has the one heiress."

"Let me guess," I mumbled around another bite, "she needs all four to recover from whatever's ailing her. Well, you said it yourself, it took a decade to grow these things. Another week or two won't kill her now, will it? And could you stop cursing my relatives? I'm pretty sure it's not going to matter but if my ancestors or my family should, by any stoke of luck, hear you, we'll all suffer. Now, can we skip the charade? Who are you? Do you remember enough to realise what I am? As old as you are you must have stumbled across one rumour or the other."

His bravado evaporated on the spot and he slumped against my grip: "you know?"

"That you're an old soul wearing a young face? Of course, I can see it. Answer my question. Do you know what I am or have you never met a true immortal in all your years?"

"You don't recognise me, do you?" He had paled considerably and it wasn't too difficult to figure out why. We had met before. The questions were when and where. I looked more closely at the frothing, ever changing construct of his soul but the intricate maze was damned hard to follow.

"Enlighten me, if you would," I demanded instead. He tilted his head to the side and replied:

"With free minds all are to worship their gods," he said. In perfect Latin. Sparks ignited in my eyes. Constantine. Constantine the Great had said that. Shortly before he had turned me into the boogeyman of an entire religion. The devil. A moniker I still carried with me. God damn it!

Flickering images blurred my vision. The echoes of desperation whispered faintly in my ear and drowned out the sounds of the forest as two men pleaded in vain, their strangled cries turning into bloodcurdling screams amongst the elation of the crowd. The hum of a bear, the frenzied bark of a wolf, the sound of flesh parting under ivory teeth and then silence. His first steps towards the throne had already been painted in blood.

A magnificent palace, illuminated against the cold, starless night shimmered just beyond the grey, murky sky above us, its opulent halls silent but fearful. Boots marched, swords were drawn, a child wept quietly. The innocent died, sacrificed to Constantine's ambition. With the blood of his family he cleansed himself of the past, ushering in a new age… a better age in all honesty. But the price had to be payed. His wife, his children had payed and so had I. They had watered the seeds of Rome's survival with their lives and I had become an enemy of humankind, an enemy to unite against… an enemy that legitimised further cruelty under the pretence of keeping the people safe.

My fur bristled when I remembered the Inquisition, the torture chambers, the starving masses… the stakes. Roaring to live in the darkness, filling the night with blood red sparks and the song of agony as flesh turned to ash. I had always had a particular distaste for the stake, maybe because they had been erected to purge my presence from poor souls I had never even met, maybe because flames had been important, beautiful… nourishing to me for far longer than the church had existed, whatever the reason, as the bright, damning fires crackled before my inner eye, my blood ignite and a long suppressed, indignant anger thundered through me. Constantine's fear of me and my intervention back then had turned me into an excuse to hunt down the innocent for years to come and I had detested every moment of it. I still did.

Unconsciously I had reached out, my fingers tightening around his neck like a vice as another biting gust tore through the clearing, but he didn't resist. He just dangled form my grip, his eyes flickering when they met my gaze. "I'm sorry," he croaked chokingly, "and thank you. You were right. Power isn't a means to an end. It's a responsibility." Damn it all to hell. Goddamn, flee ridden, hypocritical, cowardly, ugly human. I could only pray that the heavens would strike him with thunder. Him and 18 generations of his fucked up ancestors. But I wouldn't do it myself. Not yet. Not for the past. With a flick of my wrist I tossed him to the ground. 

"Petty arsehole," I commented and turned away, my chest heaving. By now I was seriously hoping that the injured girl would limp out of the cave, point at him and yell: "kill him, please."

"Is he… who is he," Ahri whispered, her growing flames a mirror image of my anger.

"Constantine," I spat. "Constantine the Great. First catholic ruler of Rome." She stilled.

"I see. Do you want me to…" she was cut off when the glowing orb Lilith had turned into dropped down right between us. The demoness had been silent for much longer than I'd have thought possible but now she had reached her limit:

"That Constantine," she asked incredulously. "The one you've been yapping on about for ages?"

"Very much so. He wasn't a retainer back then, though. He must have lived through aeons in the interim. Which means he spent most of his time in the far reaches. How many lives did it take, Constantine? And why, by god, would you tell me who you are?"

"I don't use that name anymore," he coughed. "As for telling you… you'd have found out either way and unless you've changed drastically the truth still matters to you. I'm tired of being afraid. Fragmented memories only started to surface a couple of deaths ago. Ever since I've been looking over my shoulder. Knowing that you've made an enemy of the devil herself suddenly makes the paranoia of an emperor seem childish. Now then, are you going to end me?"

"I didn't back then," I hissed. "If I'm going to now it'll be because of what you've done in this life, not because of what you did to me. Have you softened? From feeding people to wild beasts and murdering your family in the dark to chopping off body parts. Oh my, what an improvement. Should I return the favour? The right hand is generally being overestimated. Let me show you."