Cassandra Pendragon
“Somehow I pictured our meeting differently.” My voice reverberated with a confidence I didn’t really feel but the whole assembly before me reminded me of a hunting pack of hyenas. Wild animals in general, and those specifically, didn’t react well to weakness or hesitation. Calmly I pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, my eyes travelling from one to the other. If there was anything comparable to a citywide meeting of power, this would be it.
For convenience sake and also because I had wanted a more or less neutral place, we were gathered around the entrance to the harbour. At first, I had planned to only include the Captains themselves, but one thing had led to another and now, they were standing before me with quite the handsome entourage of warriors. Mean looking, calloused fellows, but considering I had another immortal, an nigh transcendent vampire, a dragoness, a fey and a plethora of kitsune and dwarven warriors behind me, I didn’t feel overly threatened. If things went south, I wouldn’t be the one facing an arcane army.
To my left, Captain Brightblaze and her armoured soldiers resembled an unmoving wall of sparkling steel, their faces hidden behind their helmets. Metal scraped against metal, every time they moved and I had to admit, they made for an intimidating display, their cloaks fluttering in the wind, like flags. On my right, Alassara stood alone, her cold, detached beauty more than enough to make up for the lack of servants. She looked like a queen, graciously allowing us poor plebeians to bask in her presence. That kind of aura wasn’t easy to exude and one of the things my mum had tried to teach me, but even with my innate advantages, I still couldn’t. My wings and looks easily made up for my weaker charisma, though, and I might still learn… one day.
Facing us were the Captains Asra and Nightshade with their people and the last of the Seven, whom I knew absolutely nothing about. By now I could tell he was an imposing man, somewhere in his forties, but if I had met him on the streets, I’d have thought he was just another sell sword or maybe the owner of a ship. I would never have associated his broad back, gleaming, tattooed, black skin and practical clothing with a position of power. As far as first impressions went, I really liked him. Down to earth, no time for decorum and judging from the sly smile playing around his full lips a good head on his shoulders. Also, he was the only one who had had the courage to come alone. Maybe if all of this blew over, we’d have the time for a drink.
Asra and Nightshade looked just like I had imagined. One obese like a fattening pig without a neck and clad in expensive clothes. His jewellery alone would have been enough to feed most of Free Land for a year and the two almost naked, pretty girls at his side, one a wolf kin, just served to emphasise the impression of a cutthroat trader, used to pay for anything that caught his fancy. Nightshade was different, lean and muscular, his face hidden underneath his long, black cloak. The only visible part of him were the hilts of two swords, protruding from his belt and his scarred, strong hands, leisurely resting on the pommels of his weapons. If I hadn’t already had more than enough trouble with him and his church to last for several lifetimes, I would have been intrigued.
And then, there was my dear brother, who had decided this little gathering would make for the perfect opportunity to showcase his power. Consequentially, a good third of the people present were kitsune soldiers, standing lined up in order behind him and Sylvia, weapons sheathed. They were the perfect reflection of Brightblaze’s men, except for the shimmering veil of magic, flickering around them. A cheap parlour trick, but effective, none the less. Without powerful casters of their own, it would be utter madness for anyone to raise a hand against them and the torrents of power, slithering through the air, ensured no one present would ever forget that little fact.
Silence greeted my words and I closed my eyes for a brief moment, focusing on my nose. I still smelled the blood on the walkways, the acrid stench of burned cloth and the disgusting odour of the dead, but there were also traces of fresh sweat, oil and leather, aside from the more familiar scents of pine trees, molten gold and wildflowers. Combined with the racing heartbeats all around me and the creaking of wood, whenever someone shifted their weight from one foot to the other, I was decently convinced that everyone present was nervous. Good. Nervous meant cautious and cautious meant it was much less likely to end in another bloodbath. Even though I wasn’t yet convinced Captain Nightshade would be walking away on his own two feet. I had a few questions for him and depending on his answers, this might very well turn into his last day on Gaya.
When I opened my eyes again, they glowed ever so lightly and a spark of transcendent power leaked into my voice. “I assume you already know who I am but for those of you who don’t, I’m Cassandra Pendragon, a princess of the kitsune and an immortal. I’m the one who killed the Mask and ended last night’s fight. I didn’t save this city to watch it devour itself. I want to know what madness has gotten into you to fight amongst yourselves, while your enemy is out there, preparing for yet another assault. I’m sure some of you are wondering why you should even explain yourselves to a stranger, so allow me to refresh your memories. I’m not here to negotiate or waste anymore of my time. I’m here to get some answers and by the gods, you will provide them or I’ll take them by force.” With each word, my power had swelled, until my voice drowned out even the crackling fires below us and my wings materialised. The smell of ozone overshadowed the suffocating smoke and I added softly: “In case you don’t believe me, I invite you to step forward. I’ll gladly provide an example for everyone else.” I waited a few seconds, the silence deafening, my glaring gaze travelling from one Captain to the next. No one spoke up and, just when I was about to repeat my words, quiet laughter reached my ears. The unknown Captain was chuckling merrily. He raised his hands in a gesture of goodwill and gradually came closer.
“I’m not trying to put your words to the test,” his deep, sonorous voice reminded me of cinnamon, smooth and full with just a hint of spice, “I merely want to return the favour. As far as I’m aware, we haven’t met, yet. Of course your exploits have caught my attention, but you probably don’t know who I am. In contrast to my colleagues, I’ve never felt the necessity to adopt a glamorous moniker. I’m Nenyo, the only one of the Seven who has inherited his title. Like my father before me, I’m taking care of Free Land’s stability. A task I haven’t managed quiet as well as I would have liked but I’m sure I don’t need to explain how difficult it has been. Before we start to threaten, bribe and trick each other, allow me to say: thank you. You’ve done more than we could have expected and certainly more than you were obliged to do for a city, which has shown you and yours nothing but teeth and claws.” He was standing before me now and extended his hand, his scent, a mixture of spices, oils and leather wafting around my nose. I took it and we shook warmly.
“It’s not necessary to put me on a pedestal. What I’ve done, I’ve done for my family, but I’m glad I could help out along the way. Nenyo… I’ll remember your name.” He smiled crookedly.
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“Oh my, what an honour. I’d say the same, but your name won’t easily be forgotten around here, anyways, Cassandra Pendragon. Now, I’m sure most of us are dying to know what you’ve got in store for us. If it’s not too much trouble, why don’t you go right ahead and spill the beans?” With a last nod and a surprisingly coquettish wink, he stepped back and returned to his spot. I took a moment to sort through my thoughts and allow the muttering to fade away. Calmly, I began:
“I’ve already told you that I want answers, most of them from you, Captain Nightshade. However, I do believe that I owe you the same. I’m going to tell you my story, which should hopefully explain why there’s an army of kitsune in your midst and why you’ve had to face magics, mostly unheard of in the mortal realms. You already know my title and my name, even though I’ve been known as someone else, for most of my life. And when I say most of my life, I don’t mean decades or even centuries. I’m old, far older than anyone else you’ll ever encounter.” I smiled at Ahri. “With one exception. Now, listen closely, because you’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say and I’m not going to repeat myself.”
I paused, making sure I had their attention. “It all began about 5 years ago, when I was first introduced to my own people as their new princess. I was two years old, at the time. At least in this body…” I spoke for several minutes, maybe even half an hour. At first, I saw some puzzled looks from the corner of my eye, but they understood quickly enough what I was getting at and even the most thick headed soldier became interested, once I started explaining how I had first met Amon, or rather his magic. I didn’t talk about my past, but I narrated my experiences on Gaya in detail. With two exceptions. I didn’t divulge, what had happened in Shassa’s tomb and I skirted around our dealings with Ignus. Those had no impact on our current situation and it was a tad too personal, in my opinion.
A few times quiet whispers floated through my audience but not even once did they interrupt me. While I spoke, I tried to gauge their reaction, but I didn’t get very far. It was hard to tell if they believed me, those who didn’t hide their faces behind solid steel were wearing mask like expressions, almost like professional gamblers, who didn’t want to give away their hand. I might have come across as a lunatic or a hero, I just couldn’t tell. Once or twice I was sorely tempted to pry, to listen to the surface thoughts fluttering through their minds, but I’d have had to touch them with my wings and I wasn’t willing to risk anyone overreacting. Being bundle up in a cocoon of iridescent energy might just be the straw that would break the camel’s back and if one was to draw a weapon, the others would surely follow suit.
“…finally managed to reunite with my people. The tall, handsome fellow over there is my brother, Arthur, who has brought most of his warriors along.” Sylvia flinched at my nonchalant introduction, but I ignored her thoroughly. “Now it’s your turn. Would one of you kindly explain what in the hells you’re doing here? I expected some… aggression, but this?”
They remained silent, save the occasional murmur, staring at me as if I was some kind of monster. Which, admittedly, wasn’t even that far from the truth. I had to suppress a smile, when I remembered how the thought had shaken me two days ago, but now it felt almost reassuring, the bitter scent of their fear a soothing tingle in my nose. After a moment, Nenyo was the one who spoke up. Not much of a surprise, really, considering how he had behaved before.
“I’d like to pose a question in return. Assuming everything you’ve said is the truth, do you believe we even have a chance? To me, it seems like we’re a fruit, ripe for the picking. Shouldn’t we just grab everything that’s dear to us and make a run for it?” I pondered the question for a few moments, actively blocking out the fearful whispers her words had evoked.
“Boarding which ships, exactly,” I mumbled to myself. Out loud, I said: “I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice. I’m not in the habit of throwing in the towel, even when it seems utterly justified. It really depends on you, doesn’t it? If you think your home is worth fighting, worth killing and dying for, you should stay. If it’s not, then leave. If you’re willing to do so, it wasn’t much of a home to begin with. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look that way, though. You’ve formed and changed this place, partly by the strength of your hands but mostly with the blood of the people living here, who still have nowhere to go. If you leave, it will all have been for naught. Your achievements and their suffering will be carried away by the tide and in a few weeks no one will remember your name, except the victims of what is to come, when they curse it with their last breath.” I locked eyes with Asra, before my gaze travelled to Nightshade.
“Some of you won’t be bothered by this kind of legacy, I’m sure, but if you ask my opinion… don’t. We’ll all become rotting flesh sooner or later, but the decision you make today may very well turn you into something more. You have a chance to earn the titles you’ve taken by force. Don’t squander it.”
“The thing about martyrs is, that they don’t get to enjoy the laurels they’ve earned,” Asra scoffed, his voice a reedy whisper. “Why would we choose a fight we can’t win?”
“Because it’s coming, either way. Wherever you go, the winds of war will reach you, unless others choose to stand where you faltered.”
“Let them,” he replied, smirking. “I’ll sell the survivors food and bandages. For a decent price, of course.” My eyes narrowed but before I could reply, Arthur’s hand landed on my shoulder. He squeezed lightly and pushed past me.
“And that’s exactly why you, of all people, are entirely unfit to rule.” He raised his voice, speaking to the anxious soldiers around us. “Did you hear him? Did you hear what your blood, your death actually means to the people you follow blindly? Have you…”
“We’re not all the same,” Brightblaze’s scathing cry interrupted him. “Don’t lump us all together. We’ve fought last night, even after the whole scope of the vile magic became apparent and we’ll fight again. Against anyone who tries to invade our home.”
“That’s more like it,” my brother replied, grinning.
“Save your praise, fox. From where I’m standing, you and your soldiers are nothing more than invaders yourself. Or is there another reason why you’ve come with an army?”
“They didn’t come for you,” I explained quietly, “but for us. While you’re arguing about whether or not to protect your home, we’ve already lost ours. Arthur has come to take our younglings far away. Somewhere safe.”
“So, you’re actually going to hide while you’re asking us to fight,” Asra commented sardonically.
It wasn’t entirely on purpose, but when I felt my power stir, I didn’t exactly struggle to reign it back in, either. My wings flared and I vanished in a shower of silvery sparks. A moment later, I was face to face with the self righteous trader, my eyes glowing, my lips twisted into a snarl.
“Say that again,” I whispered, my voice silencing every last noise in the square. “Look me in the eye and tell me again how we’re using others as our shields. I’ve endured more pain, I’ve lived through more suffering than your addled, twisted mind could even imagine.” Without conscious thought I raised my hand, my skin shining like the full moon. The air crackled with tension and the beads of sweat, running down Asra’s sickly pale face were more satisfying than I had thought. The coward even tried to slink away, hiding behind the two girls he had brought along. Pathetic. “You’ve gone too far, human. I won’t…”
“Cassy, don’t.” Ahri was the only one who could still move and she quickly glided to my side, her fingers gently closing around my arm, pushing it down. “You’re right, but that’s not helpful.” For a second, I was still tempted to at least scare the living hell out of him, but I reluctantly allowed her to pull me a few steps away. The flickering light receded and I heard the collective intake of breath, when the pressure I had exuded slowly vanished.
“Fine,” I spat. “Thank your lucky star she’s here. Insult me all you want, but should you ever question our willingness to fight and bleed again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”