Cassandra Pendragon

He led me towards the southern corner where, hidden behind one of the braziers, a set of runes had been carved into the stone wall. When he touched them, a faint shimmer engulfed the glyphs and they melted away. Light ran along their contours and flowed across the sigils like water before a small doorway appeared. Behind it I could see only darkness, even with my enhanced senses, but I already knew where the narrow staircase would take us.

We made our way down, the temperature rising with every step. The murmurs of his brothers soon died away and for a while, there was nothing around me but the warmth of a living body by my side and the tap tap tap of his sandals and my boots as we walked along a path, I myself had built. Nothing could enter here, unless explicitly invited and consequentially we didn’t have to deal with the usual inconveniences old buildings held in store. There were no cobwebs and the stairs were free of dust and grime, it was just a long descend into darkness until I finally saw a speck of light at the bottom of the stairs.

A few seconds later, we walked through a silvery arch, it’s surface iridescent and flowing, filled with sparks of eternal energy that would still be here when this world would meet its end. I didn’t even want to remember how much blood it had taken to construct that thing. As soon as we passed through, we found ourselves in a cozy cavern, the walls and ceiling had roughly been hewn from the bedrock, the cuts where I had used my wings to speed up the process clearly visible. There was no other entrance except for the one we had just come through and if it hadn’t been for the enchantment the monks had saturated the cavern with, nothing would have been able to breath down here,

As it was, a huge fire danced merrily in the middle of the chamber, its smokeless flames an astonishing shade of red. Hardly surprising since I had taken them from Aurora when we had still been on better terms. Wooden benches, soft cushions and thick carpets were haphazardly arranged around it and in the far corner I could still make out the outlines of workbench, tools and materials arrayed around it. A plethora of metals and herbs, fine chisels and small hammers, glass vials with lazily bubbling liquids and ancient tomes, heavy enough to pass for slabs of stone covered the walls and filled several racks. Whatever anyone wanted the craft, the chances were good that they’d find anything they could possibly need there.

On our left, the place wasn’t less messy but instead of a magical workshop, provisions and water, tea, grains, dried meet, pots, cups and a small hearth formed a field kitchen. On our right, a small shrine was dedicated to Gautama, the belly of his statue just as impressive as it had been in life.

We had reached the inner sanctum, a place I had retreated to often but hadn’t visited in years, not since I had come here to craft the mark Aurora had now burned off her skin. It hadn’t changed much since then, even the smell, ozone, incense and a tang of forged metal was still the same.

Asura quietly crossed over to one of the pots and strugglingly filled it with water, his old body nearly overtaxed by the simple task, unless he’d strengthen it with magic but he was much too proud to do so. His pride was also the reason why I would never have imagined to offer my help. I was quite certain he’d be more than offended if I suggested that he might have trouble with pouring a cup of tea.

While he worked, I looked around, my gaze travelling over the intricate but mostly unfinished mandalas where one of Gautama’s disciples or the other had begun carving a scene into the stone but lost patience halfway through, since they only had one tiny chisel that could even scratch the surface of the surrounding rock. I could have maybe made them another, but it had always amused me when I had found a Buddhist monk down here, cursing colourfully enough that it would have put a sailor to shame. The little things…

Hesitantly I crossed over to the fire and caressingly touched the tattoo on my chest, directly above my heart. I stared into the bright flames, images from when I had forged our marks dancing among the red embers. Like so many things I had done over the course of the millennia I had lived, I had made it on impulse, intended as a gesture to show Aurora just how much she meant to me. I had used sparks form both our essences, hers I had nicked one beautiful night when we had been together, and combined them into something visible, something lasting… but obviously I had been wrong on that account.

Briefly I wondered how she had even managed to get rid of it, my energies usually didn’t budge, no matter how much transcendent force you’d throw at them. At least she hadn’t successfully destroyed it, it had only left her, or rather had gone into hibernation. I could still feel the marks presence at the edge of my consciousness and it was still tied to her, but only by the smallest of threads, nearly imperceptible, even for me. As far as she was concerned, it was gone, I was certain of it, otherwise she would have tried to sever the connection completely.

Ironic, since I assumed the mark itself was what had even made it possible for her to interact with it. Through dumb luck, or rather my innate ingenuity I hadn’t not only made a beautiful replication of our wings. I had somehow created a conductor that allowed our energies to merge, to flow freely between us, unimpeded, which unfortunately also meant that she was the only being in existence who could alter my magic. Well, not anymore…

My eyes were burning and I was surprised to feel a single tear run down my cheek. I truly loved that woman and she had kicked me in the balls, there was no nice way to put it, she had trusted my twisted, spineless brother over me and I didn’t even know why. Not entirely true… I corrected myself. I had a gnawing feeling that Chaleb hadn’t been the first to make the connection between my wings and the Corruption. Maybe Aurora, close as we had been, had known for quite some time and my actions over the last years had just been the straw that had broken the camels back. Or maybe she was not the person I had seen in her, after all. Who could say for sure. Unfortunately it didn’t matter… I still loved her and I always would, no matter what she did. Damn, Chaleb had been right, I truly was pathetic.

But there had also been better times, times I wouldn’t have traded for the whole cosmos. Again I remembered how I had felt when I had stood here and used her fire to forge a present that had made her smile… That smile…

A warm hand landed on my shoulder and shook me from my memories.

“You okay? You’ve never appeared so utterly…” “Weak?” I interrupted.

“Human, I meant to say human. You look… sad. Like someone who has lost his way... or maybe the reason he is fighting for? I guess you finally look your age, old friend.”

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“Isn’t that the same thing? And you’re blind, mate. How would you even know what I look like, now?” He ignored that. Fully understandable since we both knew he didn’t need his eyes to see.

“No, it’s not, not by a long shot. Loss inspires sadness, sadness engenders change and change can lead to growth. You don’t really believe that you’re already perfect, do you?” I groaned.

“That’s a fucking stupid question. Especially considering how often I have saved this miserable world... bloody hell, I’m deflecting. No… of course I don’t. Otherwise I’d be fighting for the other side, those shortsighted, arrogant, impudent, useless, cowardly excuses for immortals, with…”

“I get the picture. Want to tell me what you mean, exactly? Or do you just have a really bad day?”

“Try a few nightmarish years, much has happened since last we met and I’m… I’m tired. But of course you can see that. Is the tea done? I could really use some of your herbs right now.”

“Do they even work on you?”

“If I want them to, they will.” He squeezed my soldier and went over to the workbench, where he quickly shuffled through a hand full of boxes before he produced a white blossom with purple stamps from one of them. He used mortar and pestle to grind the plant into a fine dust which he poured into the boiling water before he added some dark brown leafs to the mix.

The spicy scent of black tea, laced with traces of something much sweeter, filled the room and I sat down on one of the cushions, legs crossed. I tried to let go of my worries and anger but they clung to my thoughts like a child to its mother. This was the part where I should have acknowledged and accepted that I was hurt, frustrated and… afraid. But somewhere deep down I already knew that I’d never find the strength to get up and return to the world if I allowed my fear to rise to the surface. It was better to ignore the whole bundle and shove it far away, somewhere I wouldn’t have to open it again, even if I came to live trough my most recent misadventure. It would be in good company, my mental landfill was well stocked, after all.

Another woman appeared before my inner eye, less beautiful and much younger than Aurora, but still important to me, even though I hadn’t met her for more than a few minutes. She had died in my arms and I didn’t even know her name, even though I had been the one who had killed her. She had been the one who had told me the truth about Airu’s death the one who had sent me down this rabbit hole I was stuck in, in the first place. Ignorance truly was bliss, but unfortunately it wasn’t my job to be happy, or content. I could be grateful for every moment of peace I had had , but in the end, it had always been a matter of time before someone shattered it. The last defier, the first of the fallen, the bringer of light… my life had always been one giant mess after the other but when you were forced to choose between war, even against your family, and what you believed was truly right, you were either a giant, deluded asshole or you lived in a truly messed up world.

I had always firmly ignored the former and I wouldn’t stop now. Self doubts where fine before the first people were killed, it was straight down the middle afterwards. Which made me think… I had always shunned back from meddling with time, but in this case…

Usually there wasn’t a point to it anyways, at least if you were trying for a certain outcome. Meddling with time simply meant the dice would be cast again and it’d take a much brighter mind than mine to predict which actions would infallibly lead down the correct path. Also, the changes always came at a price, like bearing the weight of all the possibilities that hadn’t come to pass, for instance. But now, I didn’t want to achieve anything in particular, I simply wanted to… I couldn’t even put it into words, I simply believed that somewhere in our past there was a point when it had all gone to shit and I wanted to know why. But I wouldn’t risk my life, maybe even a part of creation, if I really fucked up, just to satisfy my curiosity, not yet, at least.

“Well then, tell me, why are you moping? Didn’t you always claim self pity was beneath you?”

“Back then I didn’t know that I’d have to break into hell, the real thing, not the twisted and colourful phantasms you and your kind have come up with over the years, and probably kill even more of my brothers and sisters than I have already been forced to. Oh, and it also seems like the only other immortals who are still willing to talk to me, consequentially the only ones who are willing to help, are demons. And I’m not moping, I’m… processing, no, planning. That’s it.”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile while he handed me a cup of steaming tea. “How’s that going for you?”

“Marvellous… didn’t you listen? That’s not a plan, that’s utter madness, hence my contemplative demeanour. I’m not liking my chances, to be honest.”

“Why don’t you try something else, in that case? You always told me that there are no dead ends, only idiots who can’t find the way out.”

“Sometimes I wish your memory wasn’t quite as good… well, maybe you can help. Want to listen to another fantastic tale you’ll never be able to share with anyone else?”

“Definitely, it’s what I’m here for, is it not? At the very least I can turn your story into another cautionary parable. The younger kids love them and I’ve already collected quite a few.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m so glad my life can serve to teach the next generation what not to do. Alright, let’s start… at the beginning, I supposed. Remember, I’ve told you before that my age can more easily be compared to that of this planet than yours. And in all that time, I’ve never truly understood what it means to be alone, shunned by you own blood… well, now I do.” I took a sip from my cup and the herbs, a rare lotos species he had grown with the help of a little magic immediately calmed me down. My focus sharpened and the turmoil just beneath the surface vanished, leaving behind nothing but the clear and tranquil pond of my thoughts.

“Did I ever tell you about my family? My brothers, my sisters, even my power hungry cousins?”

“Only in bits and pieces and nothing personal. I know a few names, but that’s about it.”

“There are quite a lot of us… more than you might imagine. Some I liked, some I don’t and some I don’t really care about. But only one I love,” I added under my breath before I cleared my throat. “Nothing special there, I imagine it’s the same with humans. Come to think of it, I guess we aren’t that different from you, overall. We lose our way and give in to temptation, we become corrupted just as easily as you but with us… the consequence are much more dire… and more physical. I fear my oldest brother, Michael, has succumbed to his own lust for power. Something that has always lived within him but was never been allowed to grow, to devour him whole, until it found the nourishment it needed, on the outside. I think it has bloomed, now, and the first step he took down a long and twisted road was trying to kill me. I escaped but I have had to snuff out the life of others to do so and now, he has painted me as… well, as the devil.” Oh, sweet irony.

“Are you?” My friend quietly asked.

“How should I know? You think people are born bad? Usually it’s a gradual descent into darkness, one that consists of a million tiny compromises until you realise that your soul is utterly gone or warped beyond recognition. Like I said before, corruption… the Corruption, takes a physical form with us and it just so happens that these,”I manifested my wings, “could be the essence of it. It would explain a lot about me and my powers. The funny thing is, I don’t think I am, in any way, different from how I’ve always been. But that’s the trap, isn’t it. How should I know if I’m wrong? But that’s beside the point. The heart of the matter is this: I believe my dear brother has tried to and is still plotting to change the order of the cosmos to suit his own needs, to steer the worlds towards a vision only known to him, and as far as I know, he’s found supporters among the immortals. I don’t yet now how I will succeed, but I do know that I’ve got to stop him, stop them all, if it becomes necessary. So tell me, am I the devil? Or am I a Guardian Angel? It all depends on the perspective, I assume.”

“It doesn’t, my friend. But you’re also an idiot. Why would you try to to do this alone? Do you know how many people would willingly stand by your side? Mortal they might be, but you shouldn’t underestimate us. And as one of them, let me tell you this: if what you’ve told me so far is true, you better make sure you win, no matter what it takes, even if it means asking for help.”