Cassandra Pendragon
When we returned to the warm light of a late morning and the cheerful song of exotic birds I was still deep in thought, my eyes puffy with unshed tears. Sometimes I felt like it had become too much to bear but I couldn’t afford to cry, not now, not without Ahri to pull me back. I just didn’t know if I’d be able to stop, strange as it was. Usually revelations, especially the uncertain kind, didn’t faze me much, but right now I was losing my footing. Maybe because I hadn’t seen it coming, maybe because I simply hated everything to do with Amazeroth and even the possibility of having played an active part in his decisions, voluntarily or not, was nauseating. Whatever the reason, I simply needed someone… a very specific someone to hold me tight for a while. Either that or a much less specific individual to punch in the face. That would also do nicely.
When we left the ruined mansion I closed my eyes for a few heartbeats and savoured the smells on the morning wind. There was still a hint of smoke underneath the putrid aroma of the city, only bearable because of the fresh breeze, carrying with it the tang of salt and seaweed, but the faint, sweet taste of cherries still put a smile on my face. In a few weeks time, when the tree would blossom, I would finally feel at home again. The hectic, discordant voice of Free Land had already become a soothing lullaby I mostly didn’t hear anymore but it still helped to calm my mind, almost like the melodious springs and gurgling creeks of Boseiju once had. Knowing that I could get closer to Ahri with nothing but a single step now also helped.
“Are you going to miss us,” Greta suddenly blurted out as we were nearing the city proper.
“I think I’ve already shed all the tears I can spare when I thought you dead,” I replied through a smirk. “Of course I’m going to miss you. You and all the rest of my family. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering if it ever gets any easier. You know… leaving people behind. Whether temporarily or…”
“Permanently. It can but I’ve always tried my best to avoid that.” I paused, a hazy recollection stirring at the edge of my thoughts. “Once upon a time I attended a concert. It was mostly by accident but there was this old man, he didn’t put on much of a show, it was only him and his guitar, a kind of instrument. He sang about pain and love. Love hurts, but sometimes it’s a good hurt. To me, that’s a farewell. Yes, it pains me to go, but it also means I have something worth returning to.” I eyed her from the side, looking past her renewed face and the superficial, smooth coating of her skin. “Do you feel lonely?”
“Not since I’ve met you again. In between… yes, I was lonely. I’ve never been lucky enough to fall in love… maybe because I’ve been waiting most of my life for you to return. That’s not an accusation,” she quickly added, when she saw my expression darken, “it was my choice, but now that I have to watch you leave again… it’s not that bad, since I know you’ll return just like you are now, but it still reminds me of the last time. Do you remember?”
“No,” I mumbled, “I don’t. Was it before Aurora turned her back on me?” She nodded.
“Yes, but it can’t have taken long, afterwards. Back then… I don’t think you knew what laid in store for you. I had just turned 300 and the both of you came to visit. We hadn’t lived together for quite a while but I hadn’t settled on Gaya, yet. That only happened after… you know. It was a beautiful day and you bid me farewell. Until next time, you said. And I waited, I waited until a toddler I could have carried in one hand was brought down into my cave. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to pretend. All I wanted to do was pick you up and never let go. I was… scared, still am, to be honest. It took me a while to realise but when the one being who carried me from the fires, who protected me against everything the universe could throw at me, fell, I lost… something. My youth, perhaps. Up until then I had always believed that, no matter the danger, you would always find a way to… well, as selfish as it may sound, to protect me, to protect my world and come back to me, as you always had. Realising that even you can’t…” I took her hand and squeezed it lightly to shut her up. With a cheeky smile I interrupted her:
“I’m not going to pretend like you’re wrong, you’ve experienced first hand that I often bite off more than I can chew, but… we talked about Amazeroth before. I want to let you in on a little secret, do you know why the wards around Gaya react to my magic as they do? Because those wards have been fashioned from my own energy. I… I haven’t seen it, but the stories I’ve heard were enough. Anyways, the reason why no immortal, except for Amazeroth himself, ever set foot on this world is me. I might have died at the hands of my brother, but I still managed to keep his grubby fingers well away from anything I hold dear. Which is basically a pretty longwinded way to tell you this: you can fear for me all you want but never, not even for a second, doubt that I’ll try to keep you and everyone else on this world safe. I might fuck up, I might lose a few battles, but in the end, whether I’m there to see it or not, you will have a world to call your own. So will my family. I don’t care what it’s going to cost me, I don’t care if it’s impossible but the war that has Gaya trembling won’t be fought here.” She tilted her head and smiled.
“What an elaborate speech, it’s just unfortunate that you’ve missed my point entirely. Cassy, I don’t care about this world. There are a few people here I like but the rest can go to hell for all I care.” She stopped and pulled me around to face her. “What I wanted to say is this: back on Boseiju you allowed me to stand by your side for the first time ever. It cost me my life but it turned out well enough in the end. If you want to put my mind at ease, promise me this: whatever happens, even when you reclaim your heritage, don’t leave me behind again and don’t ever say your goodbyes to me. Can you do that for me?” Believe it or not, I didn’t have to think twice.
“Yes and no. I can promise that I won’t ever again plan to sacrifice myself, but I’m also never again going to watch while others pay the price for my actions. If it comes down to it, it’ll be my head on the chopping block and I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that neither Ahri, nor Reia, Viyara or you are anywhere near the scaffold. That’s my prerogative, simply because I’m older and more powerful. You told me the existence of immortals wasn’t fair and you’re right. But neither is life.” We stared at each, the air between us gradually becoming charged with unspent mana before a tremulous smile broke through her stern expression.
“Fair enough. A warning, though: should it ever come down to it, I’ll make sure that you won’t be alone. I can’t speak for anyone but Ahri and myself, even though I’m pretty sure there are a few others who share our view, but we won’t let you go silently into that sweet night. If you don’t plan on sharing your… chopping block with us, you’ll have to make sure that the two of you never meet in the first place.” Grinning despite the bittersweet lump in my throat I said:
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I’ll do my best, then. Have you always been this stubborn?”
“Being around you sure didn’t help but growing up as an unwanted orphan has some upsides. A strong will, resilience, wisdom…”
“Alright, alright. I get the picture. Greta… thank you.”
“There won’t ever be a need to thank me, even though you could say I’m sorry, once in a while.”
“What for?” The gleam in her eyes told me I shouldn’t have asked before she even answered:
“Being a stubborn pain in my ass. You’ve grown on me, though, like a fungus… or a barnacle.”
“Gee, thanks again… honestly. I’m feeling much better. Did you do that on purpose?”
“The mushy declarations or the insult?”
“And there’s my answer,” I smirked. Our feet were hitting cobbled stones again and when my gaze travelled over one of the less frequented alleys I added: “are you old enough to find your way to the Garden alone or do you need me to hold your hand?”
“Hilarious.” She followed the direction I was staring in and added: “if you plan on taking out your temper on the zookeeper you’ve mentioned and reclaim your engagement present I wouldn’t mind joining you, though. Should be fun.”
“Not for him. Even though… he’s been shitting his pants for a few days now, waiting for my visit. In a way it’s even going to be a kindness.”
“You don’t actually mean to hurt him, do you?”
“What for? Building something under duress? Of course not, but he doesn’t know that. Besides, he’s been spending every last coin he has for women and booze. The realisation that he’s still going to have to pay for his food next week will be enough punishment.”
“Strange. I actually didn’t expect the brothels to stay in business. Weren’t the girls slaves?”
“Not all of them but from what I’ve heard the prices have risen. A lot. One of the reasons why he’s even managed to spend the wealth he’s accumulated with his talents.”
“If he’s really that good, good enough to solve a magical problem Amon couldn’t, maybe…”
“We should offer him a job? Way ahead of you. Why do you think I waited until he burned through most of his savings?”
“Because you forgot or didn’t have the time?”
“You’re right,” I grumbled, “but we could pretend like it’s been on purpose.”
“We surely could but I don’t quite see why I should.” Miffed, I replied:
“If you want to come you will. Otherwise you can totter on and deal with my mom’s insanity. I’m sure she has a whole plethora of tasks she’d like you to accomplish.”
“For a simple fare…” her eye widened when she actually thought about it. “I see your point. Well done, I’m sure he’s willing to offer his services for a song by now.” I patted her back.
“That’s the spirit. Come along, then. It’s not too far and almost on the way.” Grudgingly she took my offered arm and hand in hand we strolled off the main road. The neighbourhood hadn’t changed much since my last visit. It had become cleaner, though. Apparently people were much more inclined to care for their environment when they actually had a say in matters or at least a glimmer of hope to cling on to. Not exactly a Nobel prize worthy observation but I still felt validated. Then again, I had been wrong often enough that a small success was nothing to boast or write home about.
Zuma’s street was a few blocks away from the Garden and hadn’t been touched by the Emperor’s invasion but most shops were still closed and would probably only reopen once the usual traffic of ships and traders resumed. Which would, admittedly, still take a while, considering our airspace was, at the moment, populated by several dragons and no Captain in their right mind would voluntarily set course for Free Land with all the rumours that must have spread. Not right now, at least. Greed was a strong incentive to resume trade and I felt pretty confident that the first ships would anchor in the harbour within a week, but until then there really wasn’t that much of a point in selling anything besides food or building materials. Not to mention that we had put quite a few businesses out of action when we had liberated the slaves.
The blacksmith, my sister had taken a liking to, wasn’t one of them. In the merciless heat a broad shoulder man was working a glowing piece of metal on his anvil with the sweat of his brow, the bell like sounds chiming up and down the street. Around him the finished products, tills, nails, coils, drills and whatever tool you can imagine had been pushed to the side, the marvellous, opulent display of gaudy, ceremonial weapons and armour replaced with the lacklustre but all the more useful products he was creating now. Two apprentices ran hither and two, keeping the coals white hot, refilling the oil and water tanks and generally accomplishing the myriad of necessary but tedious tasks that allowed their master to keep on smithing.
Further down the road the little tavern we had breakfasted in was busy heating gargantuan pods of savoury gruel, handing out portions, at two coppers the cup, to a constantly changing crowd. The smell of bacon and fat was almost oppressively pungent but when the waitress, who had served us, saw me, I reciprocated her timid smile immediately. Further away the lanterns of the “Gilded Dream”, just about visible in the distance, had been lit, despite the early hour, signalling that they were still in business. Whether or not the services offered had changed I couldn’t tell, but just as I was about to turn towards Zuma’s little shop a line of pretty girls, led by an astonishingly wrinkly hag, marched through the door and down the street.
“Looks like your mother even invited the whole whorehouse,” Greta commented dryly.
“Could you not call them that?”
“Whores? Why? It’s their profession, isn’t it?”
“And you’re a grouchy old bat but I still don’t rub your nose in it every time I have the chance.” She shook her head exasperatedly.
“There is so much wrong with what you’ve said… for starters, it seems like you’re the one who’s actually got a problem with what they’re doing for a living, or at least regards it as derogative. It’s not, there are much worse ways to earn your keep.”
“Right. That’s why Liz still struggles to see herself as anything but tainted, isn’t it?”
“You have a tendency to pick the odd one out. I know you have this romanticised notion of sex and love, pretty understandable considering your history, but you should really get over yourself. I’d bet you anything you’d like that most, not all but most, of those girls had a chance to do something else instead. It just didn’t pay as well or was much more… demanding. Still, I don’t think they’re ashamed of what they are… that’s just you.”
“Maybe,” I admitted hesitantly, while I watched the elegant troupe come closer. “I don’t feel ashamed or repulsed, though. It’s mainly just pity mixed with a tinge of sadness. I don’t want to be reminded of what I’ve been forced to do throughout my life every other day and I thought… still think it’s the same for them.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You compare apples and oranges. You’ve been disgusted with some aspects of yourself ever since I’ve known you. How can you presume that holds true for them? Only because you would feel that way.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever find out. I won’t ever sell myself for a handful of coin.”
“Really? Well, not for a handful of coin and probably not your body but you’re prostituting your powers, your knowledge and your favour left, right and centre. On a more abstract level… where’s the difference?”
“Are you actually calling me a whore? The last gal who had the courage I beat black and blue.” She shrugged uncaringly and held my gaze.
“We all are. Some more some less. I just think it’s funny that, after all the years you’ve lived you still retain some of your more… naive convictions. Still, I didn’t plan on turning this into a lesson on societies and the quantifiability of every aspect of life and if it really bothers you, I’ll stop calling them whores. Under one condition. They’re going to attend whatever Helena has planned. Take a few minutes to talk to them about their life. It might do you some good. Them as well.”