Cassandra Pendragon
It had turned out they knew a frightening lot about necromancy. After I had reassured everyone that I had no intention of becoming an evil overlord with an army of ghouls, set on world domination, they had quickly taken to my idea. Thanks for the vote of confidence, by the way. Nothing better than having your friends believe you could become the next queen of the damned... my plan was pretty simple. We still needed Shassa, or rather her knowledge, but as long as she was alive and had a will of her own, she’d betray us the first chance she’d get, as I knew from experience. So, why not turn her into a revenant? Remove all those nasty personality traits alongside her goals and ambitions.
As I had found out, because we couldn’t. Funnily enough, no one had argued that it was plain evil and cruel, we all were unanimously of the opinion that she had it coming. Well, all of us who had had the displeasure of meeting her before and Ignus just thought it a fitting punishment for what she had done. If we wanted to conserve her memories, we’d have to conserve her soul. It had something to do with the link between body, mind and soul, but for the life of me, I hadn’t been able to follow the explanation. The consequences had been quite clear, though. While we couldn’t reanimate her in the usual way, trapping her essence in an object was laughably easy, at least for Ignus and Mephisto. Nearly as easy as adding a couple of runes that ensured she wouldn’t be able to lie when questioned. Unfortunately for her, this also meant that she’d be conscious and sentient and trapped. Tough luck.
The two ancient wizards had quickly decided on what they’d need to make it work, which had turned out to be surprisingly little. A container, preferably a high quality gem, and a conductor to which the container could be affixed. Plainly speaking, they had engraved a long dagger with a set of runes and added a couple of enchantments. A larger ruby, courtesy of Xorlosh, who had been more than willing to help incarcerate the creature responsible for the death of some of his lads, was set into the hilt. The thing was far from functional, the stone and consequently the hilt were much to heavy and screwed up the balance, not to mention that the ruby would probably break lose with the first impact. But it didn’t have to be. It had to withstand exactly one strike. According to Mephisto, all I had to do was plunge the dagger into Shassa’s heart, the magic would activate as soon as she died and I’d have a spitting mad spider in a hand sized terrarium.
Consequentially I was by now standing in front of a heap of meat that had once been a terrifyingly strong predator, Ahri by my side, while I couldn’t prevent a cold shudder from racing along my tails. The last few hours hadn’t been kind to Shassa. Her legs were gone, the wounds charred as if they had been cut off with heated axes or maybe fiery wings. Her pincers had been ripped from her skull, foul smelling secretions crusted the tears around her mouth and the deep holes where her eyes should have been. A mithril stake, covered in runes, had been thrust through the fleshy bridge between her abdomen and her head, nailing her to the ground in an awfully familiar scene and suppressing her magic. She was still alive, I could tell as much from the cruel spasms that made her body twitch from time to time, but whether she was unconscious or simple rendered insensible from the pain, I didn’t know.
The warm sunlight and her spilled blood had attracted swarms of flies and other insects, that circled around her with a disgusting, buzzing noise. The larger ones were beginning to enter her wounds, ravenous, living bandages that were eating her alive. The stench was horrible, like a slaughtered pig that had been left out for too long.
Despite everything she had done to me, tried to do to us, I still pitied her. If nothing else, she was a warrior and she deserved to die on her feet, not cowering on the ground in a puddle of her own intestines. I wasn’t stupid enough to regret what I was going to do, but still… the sight combined with the smell of a ravaged body and the quiet sounds of dripping blood made me feel like the bad guy. The assembly of dwarfs, dragons, a fey and a demon behind me didn’t help either, if anything they made me feel more like a crazed priestess at the beginning of a dark ritual. Which wasn’t that far from the truth, admittedly. Except for the priestess part.
A week ago I would have categorically rejected the idea that I might ever be the one to imprison a soul, whatever the reason, but here I was, a stone throw away from our camp, hidden behind the brushes, so the children couldn’t see the spider and ready to not only end her life but to use her after her death. I knew she deserved it but what frightened me was, that somewhere deep down, I wasn’t doing this out of necessity, well, not purely. I wanted revenge, I wanted her to exist by my whim, a plaything I could do with whatever I pleased. Usually I’d just stay away, let someone else decide and skip the moral implications, but that wasn’t a solution right now.
I nervously rolled the hilt of the dagger between my sweaty palms, suddenly unsure if I should proceed. Ahri must have felt my hesitation because her tails curled gently around my middle as she pulled me closer. “I can do it,” she whispered in a voice filled with the burning urge to help me and a steely resolve to see the deed done.
“Thanks, but no, this was my idea. I should be the one who hammers the nail into the coffin. I’ll be right back.”
I disentangled myself from her and took the couple of steps, needed to reach Shassa. The smell became worse with every metre, a tangible wall I had to break through. With an effort I pushed forwards until I stood at her side, my boots sinking into the soaked ground. I carefully extended my hand and placed it gingerly onto the bulk of her abdomen, searching for the hardened cluster of ganglia beneath her skin that protected her heart. The crowd behind me stilled when they saw me reaching her and the tension in the air became palpable, growing by the second.
Erya’s warning fluttered through my mind, one of the few sentences we had been able to exchange. She had told me that everything we did would change who we were and that I’d have to be careful as to not make death and suffering an integral part of who I was, who I was to become. She had let her pain go when Viyara had freed her and she had been worried that I wouldn’t be able to if I were to carry Shassa along with me, a constant reminder of how treacherous and cruel the world could be, of how cruel I could be. But it was water under the bridge, life was ugly and beautiful at the same time and so were we all, so was I.
The spider quivered under my touch, as if she knew what was to come, and tried to get away, her mutilated body convulsing like an oversized worm. “I’ll let you go, once I don’t need you anymore,” I mumbled, echoing what she had said to me back down in the tomb. “But I’m done playing nice. You shouldn’t have challenged me.”
A trickle of energy flowed to my arm and with one smooth motion I easily pushed the dagger through her chitinous armour, past the cluster of nerves and into her heart. A pained hiss escaped her torn mouth as I felt its beat against the steel while it ripped itself apart in a desperate attempt to keep her alive. Her ruined form trembled and the magic in the ruby activated. The runes lit up with dark, ravenous energies that raced along the blade and began to devour her essence.
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The more she bled, the faster the black fire spread, as if it were nourished by her demise. A dark glow began to form within the ruby, becoming brighter by the moment as it pulsed with deadly intent. It was over within a few seconds. One last spasm shook her and then she relaxed, her corpse sliding along the mithril stake with a sickening, wet sound that reminded me of… another blade that had ripped through my back while silvery blood had been gushing from a deep hole in my nearly severed neck, years ago, somewhere in the void.
I fell to my knees with a silent scream as vivid images, chaotic smells and burning agony swallowed the world around me while I relived the last moments of my previous life. Fear, anger, disappointment and desperation rose from deep within as I again felt Aurora literally pierce my heart, her flames gnawing at me from the inside until nothing was left but ashes. My magic rose, confined by a cage of crimson fire and I made a decision, the last one I was ever going to make in this life. As my energy raced along the flaming katana in my body, ready to devour whatever it came into contact with, ready to lash out one last time before it was extinguished, I reigned it back in. I wouldn’t take her with me. The silvery blue sparks that had begun eating into her essence disappeared before they could gain hold and as they fled, so did my consciousness.
I blinked tears from my eyes and immediately scrambled backwards. She was still there, towering over me, hand extended, her beautiful features set into hard lines, like the face of the grim reaper. Her fiery wings filled my vision and everything I was screamed at me to either flee or finally fight back.
“No,” I half cried, half sobbed, “not again…” Before I understood what was happening, my wings materialised, the power of aeons roaring to the heavens as silvery blue torrents of light cleaved through reality around me. Distant voices faintly reached my ears but all I could think about was the memory of death, creeping upon me as everything went dark. I didn’t want to die, I wouldn’t…
The next thing I knew was the feeling of a soft body under mine while Ahri’s voice whispered in my ear: “I forgive you”. She was pinned to the ground, some of my wings slung around her torso so she couldn’t unfold hers while the rest formed a sizzling and crackling sphere around us. The shouts from behind it were muted as if I was underwater but all I cared for where the small streams of her blood that flowed from the deep cuts I had already torn into her skin, the sad, accepting look in her emerald eyes and the engraved dagger I was pressing to her neck.
That, more than anything else, brought me back to reality, the past finally vanishing to where it belonged. I immediately released her, dropped the dagger and slung my arms and tails around her. Suppressing a sob, I channeled more than enough energy into her body to allow it to heal.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “So sorry.” What had I done?
“Don’t be, I saw it, too, I felt it. You’ve every right…” she didn’t get any further. My emotions were still white hot in my chest and without thinking, I slapped her, my eyes brimming with tears again.
“Don’t, just don’t. I don’t want your forgiveness, I want you to be mad, I want you to fight, whoever threatens you! Why didn’t you take the damned dagger from me?”
Colour was slowly returning to her face, the clean cuts in her skin healing over.
“Because I couldn’t have used it. You weren’t able to hurt me back then and I won’t ever again raise my hand against you in earnest. That’s a promise.”
“No! Why would you…” she silenced me with a kiss, the sparks of transcendent energy that flowed through her, as her promise was bound to her core, a tantalising taste of eternity against my lips. My anger, my pain, the lingering feeling of desperation, it all drained away in an instant.
“Because I love you,” she replied breathlessly. “But if you don’t let go of me and lower your wings we might be in a bit of trouble.” I blinked sheepishly as I realised that I was still on top of her, our tails intertwined while my hands roamed up and down her body. Both of us were covered in a mixture of dirt and spider’s blood, the disgusting stuff was even smeared across her face and soaking through my trousers. When my wings had manifested, I had ripped Shassa’s corpse to shreds. Her inner liquids had flooded the ground with a smelly soup, grey bits of a gooey, flesh like substance freely floating in the puddles.
Behind the curtain of silvery energy, I heard small explosions and felt the impact of dozens of spells as they dissipated harmlessly along the torrents of my power. Even from beneath my feet, the onslaught continued but through luck or aptitude I had woven a cocoon of light that completely surrounded us, even underground. Caught somewhere between embarrassment, giddiness and a small spark of stubborn anger, I leaned back with a crooked smile.
“I love you, too. But you’re still an idiot. Were you really going to let me kill you?” She sighed.
“Cassy… I think you know already that I’ve done worse to get here… so, yeah. But you weren’t going to. You didn’t, back in the void and you wouldn’t just now, that’s just not who you are. You don’t hurt the people you care for, you protect them, whatever the cost. That’s why I wanted you to promise that you wouldn’t risk your life for anyone in the first place. I’m not going to let you die again. Not while I still draw breath.” Cheesy as it may sound when narrated, her words made me feel warm, protected, loved. A feeling I wouldn’t ever willingly let go.
“We should both get really old, in that case. Because I won’t let you go, either. Do you think we could just vanish? Go somewhere else for a few hours?” Her smile was shy but her eyes sparkled brightly as she looked up at me.
“I’m afraid not, our friends might have a stroke if we simply vanished after the spectacle you just caused. They probably think you’ve lost it completely. If you turned around you’d see two dragon shaped shadows pacing behind your wings. We should move before they try something stupid. Besides… we both need a bath, desperately.”
“There’s always something… fine.” I scrambled to my feet and offered her my hand. When we stood side by side, I picked up the dagger, which had survived my temporary bout with insanity and carefully began parting the curtain of light, ready to snap it shut again should I feel another spell coming our way. A wave of noise hit me like a brick wall, the clamouring of dwarfs, rushing around in their armour, the sizzling of magic in the air as complex spell formations came together in the sky and the thunderous roars of two dragons. Viyara and Ignus were towering above us, their eyes wide, while huge drops of golden blood oozed from a cut along his snout where he had pressed his muzzle against my wings in an attempt to push through.
Between them, Erya and my mother stood rigidly, worry and fear written in every stiff line of their posture. Green sparks were coalescing around Erya’s horns while her fingers frantically wove a lattice of golden light between her hands, preparing one spell or the other. My mom’s eyes were glazed over with silver, solid spheres of shining metal that mirrored the glow of her fur as energy flowed like liquid along her tails. A stone throw further away, Mephisto and my brother had their arms crossed in front of their chests, their eyes never leaving the shimmering barrier my wings formed.
A half completed circle of dwarfs surrounded us and held back the kids, who had been drawn in by the commotion. Their anxious muttering and the thumping of the dwarven boots died down when the curtain of energy began to quiver and slowly parted. They fell silent and watched nervously while Ahri and I slowly came into view. For a moment I felt like the antagonist of a melodramatic piece, shortly before her grande entrance. The stern expressions all around didn’t help, either and I hurriedly racked my brains for something to say. My mouth turned dry and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind and might reassure them that I hadn’t gone crazy.
“I surrender,” I said with a helpless smile while I raised my hands.