Cassandra Pendragon

I was tempted to lose myself in the intricately woven spells. Mephisto’s reassurance, that I’d only have to watch magic closely enough to learn, rang in my ears and I instinctively knew I’d have to wait for a long time until I’d come across anything comparable. From the looks of it, it wasn’t a single spell I could break, but rather a myriad of tightly connected formations. Even if I managed to cleave one apart, the rest would work just fine. If I had had a few hours, I might have been able to deduce the link between the different enchantments, but there was a time and a place for everything and right now, I had much better things to do. Finding the caster, for instance, and shoving his spells up his ass. That should cancel the magic just as effectively.

Silently I stalked the corridors, making slightly less noise than a fleeting shadow. Every few steps I paused, listening, watching, searching. My second sight was still restricted, its potency diminished quickly beyond the reach of my wings, but my other senses, bolstered with the energy from my core, had come to life. The hushed murmurs form the banquet hall, the acidic smell of burned flesh, the half suppressed groans of burning vampires, everything was crystal clear and while I passed withering bodies, their skin slowly charring in the searing light, my anger grew.

I knew that vampires weren’t innocent, I didn’t even want to guess how many corpses Alassara had buried in her time, but right now, I didn’t care. She had taken us into her home, she was willing to side with us against an enemy who would send any sane person running in the opposite direction, screaming in fear, and her daughter had weaselled her way into my heart. For now, they were under my protection just as much as the kitsune were and there was no force in heaven or hell I wouldn’t challenge to keep my people safe. I’d even go against my siblings, if I had to, and the thought of facing a puppet god, shackled by mortal convictions, didn’t scare me. His minions were the one who should be afraid and I was about to remind them why.

Silver lightning danced across my skin and with a whisper my wings materialised, just when I took the last steps into the entrance hall. An ostentatiously decorated room, filled with small statuettes, made of carved gems, a massive, golden chandelier and several plush armchairs and small tables led to a fortified double door. Two guards had been positioned on either side, but they had crumbled, small wisps of smoke rising from the closed visors of their helmets. A faint scratching noise could be heard through the steel banded wood and the centre of the door was already glowing, the planks of hardened oak turning to ash before my eyes. In front of the gradually disintegrating barrier, a silver vixen sat, her tails twitching from left to right while a palpable aura of sizzling energy swirled around her like the corona of a star. Without a word I took my place at her side, joining her silent vigil.

The stream of power surging against the door intensified, chunks of coal and liquefied metal dripped to the ground while the whole room trembled as if in the vicelike grip of an invisible giant. The blurred outlines of dimly glowing runes appeared along the walls and all over the door, their strength nothing but a whispered touch against my skin.

“They’ll break through in a second. Can you see them,” my mum inquired.

“No, if I were to push my wings through, the last protective enchantments would vanish and with my second sight I can only see the flood of power they’re directing towards us. What about you?”

“I can’t see them, but I can hear and smell them. There are at least twenty on the other side and judging from the scent of blood that’s wafting down the hidden staircase, they’ve slaughtered everyone in the tavern. That’s why there was no alarm or warning. Do we have a plan?”

“Kill them all,” I replied. My anger had boiled over and turned into bloodlust and I didn’t bother with reigning it back in. “If there’s one who looks like the leader, we’ll keep him alive, if we can. There are some questions I’d like answers to.” Luckily her telepathy allowed us to communicate without any delay, otherwise we wouldn’t have had the time to exchange so much as a greeting.

“They don’t know who we are, yet. At least I don’t think so. It might be easier to get your answers, if we were to join them. Pretend to be a slave, captured for its beauty and just now escaping from the clutches of the monsters who took you. We might not even have to fight.”

“We might not… but I want to. Did you not see them? Corpses and ashes… they’re nothing but invaders. Invaders who’ve come to burn Alassara’s home. I might not have been able to save my own kingdom back then, but things have changed. There’s only one answer I can give to torch bearing abominations and I’ll write it with the blood of those behind that door.” She looked at me from the side, her eyes glowing more strongly with every passing second.

“Now you sound like a queen. Well then, let us ensure they rue the day they crossed our path, even if it won’t be for long.” She licked her lips, her fangs shimmering. “I’m hungry.”

A cold shiver ran down my tails. I had always know my mum could be fierce when something she held dear was threatened, but this wasn’t the case. She looked more like a cat who had spotted a mouse and was shivering with anticipation, ready to play with her prey. Those poor souls had no idea what was waiting for them. They would find neither treasure nor glory here, only death awaited them.

I nodded and my wings flared, filling the room with sparkling light. My core reacted to my desires and gradually the harsh, golden light was overshadowed by a flood of silver and blue, as if the moon itself had just risen below ground. With a thought I bolstered my strength, my brain, my senses while the sparks dancing across my skin turned into a fine layer of silvery flames, flickering faster than the eye could follow. I might have gotten access to my magic, my voice might have ended this farce in an instant, but for what was to come, I needed neither. In the end, I truly was a warrior. The thought of facing them head on, fists against weapons, wings against magic, filled me with joy I had never before felt when I had been forced to fight. Right now, I wanted this.

I was distantly aware that my past was influencing me more strongly the further my development progressed, but I didn’t fear it anymore. I wouldn’t change. Maybe I was finally finding the courage to admit who I was, the good and the bad, darkness and light. I was no hero who pitied her enemies, I was no saint who’d rather spare the innocent than judge the guilty, but I wasn’t a cruel, heartless villain, either. I was myself, and I’d carve my own path, bloody as it might become. And those behind the door were the first who’d find out.

“Ready,” I asked and my mum only nodded, her figure ablaze with the light of stars. My wings surged forwards, gripped the door tightly and with the sound of tortured metal and splintering wood, I ripped it from its hinges, welcoming the smell of ozone and blood that poured through.

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From the maw like gap, a pillar of golden flames, tainted with specks of black, spilled forth and dispersed against my wings, the powerful attack nothing more to me than a tepid summer breeze. In its wake, scurrying figures slipped through the entrance, their movements slow and clumsy to my enhanced sight. Before they found their footing, my mum vanished in a silvery arch, shooting forwards like a stone from a sling. A distorted flicker, followed by the gut wrenching sound of ripped flesh and a fountain of blood. The first intruder went down, his head cleanly severed from his neck. Before the ones behind him had the chance to react, the outline of the vixen blurred again as she tore into her next victim like a fox hunting rats.

“You’re not welcome here,” I thundered and took a step towards them. “You’ve entered the lair of the beast, bearing flames, and now you shall pay the price.” Behind the line of soldiers in black plate armour, still struggling to reform their ranks, I saw two creatures clad in flowing, heavily embroidered robes. One was wearing gold, the other black and while the first of their protectors died, they hastily tried to cast their magic. But I wasn’t going to allow it. With a cold smile on my face I vanished, only to reappear behind them. Time slowed down even more until my surroundings seemed to be frozen, the priests and warriors resembling nothing more than ants caught in amber.

To my left, a pale girl with almost translucent skin, her graceful appearance laid bare before my bolstered perception, was marshalling her thoughts into a spell that reeked of death and decay, dark motes of light coalescing around her to form a lance of doom she wanted to hurl at me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in front of them anymore. To my right, the burly zealot hidden under his golden robe was commanding the essence of light and fire into a wave of destruction, intended to burn my mum and me where we stood.

Their magic was crude, the spell forms appeared almost unfinished. I saw them use their internal energies to stimulate the basic elements around them, marshalling them into a shape that would convey their intend and do their bidding. For the first time, I felt the process of casting a spell, their attempts much less refined than anything I had been confronted with before and I finally understood what Mephisto had meant when he had told me, all I had to do was watch.

Magic, in its essence, was nothing more than another language, one that was even more universal than maths, one that allowed the caster to impose his thoughts on reality, because it was based on the very structure of existence, the intricate interaction between practitioner and her surroundings. The dichotomy of knowledge and power determined the strength of the spell.

Up until now, I had always dealt with beings, from Shassa to Mephisto, whose knowledge was so far beyond my grasp that I hadn’t been able to comprehend what they were actually doing. This, though… this was different. Their understanding was lacking, severely. Shattered thoughts and crippled ideas came together to become an entangled, warped, chaotic mess of dreams and prejudice. From what I gathered, their magic was born from faith and a very twisted belief in how the world should work. I couldn’t even imagine how much energy it’d take to make that real, the fragmented memories, which slowly blossomed in my mind and filled the gaps in my knowledge as soon as another impression sparked the right question, suggested that no human could even come close to wielding that much power.

Every creature was born with a set amount of energy. The astral body, the life force, the soul… it was predetermined how strong they could get, pretty much like the size of a person. There were ways to circumvent the restrictions to a certain degree, techniques that allowed the user to incorporate external sources, for example, but there was a limit of how much mortal flesh could contain, which was also the reason why my body had changed so drastically with each evolution. What they were trying to accomplish should have sucked them dry and spewed them back out as shrivelled up husks. I imagined even a dragon would be hard pressed to supply enough mana to make their insanity become reality, but they weren’t alone.

Instead of a steadily growing wave, that flowed through them and spilled over into the world, ready to incite the ambient mana, their strength came form some place else. I could literally see the fragmented presence of an unfathomable consciousness take hold of their minds and fuel their puny magic with its own power. Glistening gold and swirls of the deepest black tore though them and invaded their spells, elevating their magic to inhuman heights. A spark of the sun itself and the chilly breath of death manifested and from their exhilarated expression, I knew that they expected this to be the end.

But I wasn’t human either and in a battle of energy and magic, I wouldn’t have feared the source of their unnatural power, never mind mere vessels. My grin grew wider while my wings appeared before them, blazing through their spells, unimpeded. In the almost petrified moment they couldn’t even react before their magic was devoured, black and gold turning into silver sparks that vanished along my wings and strengthened me even further. An exhilarating heat seeped through me, feeding the pulsing fires in my veins and while their faces gradually morphed into expressions of disbelief and panic, my smile grew wider.

I twirled around, cleanly severing the loose threads of power that still burned within them, cutting them off from their source. A quiet laugh escaped me when the backlash hit them. Through my second sight, I saw the lines of energy, glowing within their bodies, their meridians, quiver and shake under the onslaught. Like tiny bolts of lightning, tendrils of broken energy tore through them, flooding their minds with waves of ravenous, immutable pain, a sensation I was all too familiar with. I finished my pirouette and two twitching, insensible humans dropped to the ground, wisps of smoke rising from their robes while their eyes rolled up into their heads and at the same moment, the glaring light, still coming from the walls, was extinguished.

The forming spells around them had disappeared without a trace and with a slinky smile, I spun once more to throw them both into the ranks of their comrades. With a dull, crunching sound they tumbled into the backs of the nearest soldiers, ruining their balance. Most managed to stay on their feet when my living projectiles hit, but two were pulled to the ground alongside the priests. Those were the lucky ones. The others were still a threat.

Laughter bubbled from my throat when the closest hulking behemoths of iron and steel tried to face me, their movements slower than a slug’s. Swords and spears whirled around, about as fast as growing grass, an expanding thicket of weapons and armour. Long before the first gleaming tip could even touch a hair on my tails, I had taken a few steps and had deftly grabbed one of the spears below the serrated edge. I tensed my muscles and easily ripped it from the grip of its wielder, throwing the burly human to the ground in the process. I twirled the massive weapon around, ramming it home underneath the chin band of the downed man’s helmet.

A crimson fountain sprayed form the wound and his legs twitched involuntarily, knocking his neighbour from his feet, but I had already moved on, the rising melodies of blood and violence an invigorating symphony I could smell, taste and hear. Light as a feather I danced deeper into their midst, my wings a wavering curtain of death around me. Iron melted, wood ignited and skin was cut like butter wherever they made contact. Similar to the intoxicating feeling that had come over me in Shassa’s tomb, I couldn’t suppress the unbridled excitement that rushed me along, like a leaf, caught in an irresistible river.

Steel deformed around my spear while its tip dug into exposed flesh, drawing grunts of pain and surprise from collapsing throats. Swords were torn to pieces when they became entangled in my wings and agonised screams followed the deadly explosions of hardened shrapnel. Showers of blood wetted my skin, my hair and fur gradually becoming heavier with every life I took. Slowly, the futility of their struggle dawned on the soldiers, who had so carelessly followed their prophets into the den of the beast. Panic made their movements even more sluggish and when those who faced me suddenly collapsed, felled by a nearly imperceptible streak of silver, the few who were still in a condition to flee, tried to run. They never had a prayer. Like grains before a scythe, they were brought down, their crimson essence turned into gurgling rivulets on a darkened floor.