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Feystorm
Act 1, Chapter 19

Act 1, Chapter 19

Caroline

16th of May, 649

Caroline sat at the desk across from Emilia, who had been marched before her by Turonn for having punched one of the other girls in the mouth during their outdoor time. She studied the girl's face, puckered in a foul frown - Emilia had been acting out violently, but in talking with her parents and Nurse Mandy, all parties involved seemed to be taking a 'wait-and-see' approach to figuring out things. By now, though, it'd been long enough. With this new rankle, Caroline didn't want to wait any longer.

"Emilia," Caroline said calmly, "what happened out there?"

"I wanted to hit her, so I did. What's it to you, Vestal?"

Turonn stood by the door, keeping watch. He sighed.

"It's everything to me, Emilia. I'm worried about you, you know?"

Emilia looked up at her with a piercing gaze. "Why in blazes would you worry about me? I'm an animal, everyone here hates me. I should just start punching everyone and we'll see what happens then!"

"Emi," Caroline came around the desk and squatted down at the side of Emilia's chair. "Listen to me, please. What's going on?"

"What's going on with what? Everything's fine. I just want to fight someone. I'm strong, you know."

Caroline shook her head sadly. "Yes, of course you're strong. But you're not going to prove everything by attacking others. Deirdre's in the infirmary getting stitches right now, you know."

Turonn nodded. "We're lucky she didn't lose any teeth."

"Tell him to keep out of it, it's none of his business," Emilia sulked, folding her arms in a huff. She turned away from Caroline indignantly.

"It is very much his business, Emilia," Caroline said, much more firmly. This grabbed Emilia's attention. It wasn't often that Caroline took this tone, but she knew she had to. It was draining to be aggressive and firm, but the situation demanded it. "Had he not been there, it could have been much worse. What even happened between you that you decided to attack her?

"She looked at me funny," Emilia said, still turned away.

"Look at me, Emilia," Caroline said curtly. "You don't do that to other people. Do you understand me? It's incredible that the High Vestal has let this go on this long without sending you home. Goddess knows I would've already!"

This shocked Emilia, who turned to Caroline mortified, blue eyes full of tears.

"What? Really?"

Even Turonn looks surprised, Caroline thought. I shouldn't've gone so far, but it shook a response out of her.

"Look, Emi. If you did that on the street outside of here, you'd get arrested or kicked out of town! You'd be a menace to society! We don't just go around whacking people just because they look at us funny or because..."

Emilia's nostrils flared. "Why don't we?" The façade of indignance had quickly been restored - Caroline felt baited by the vulnerability, and now felt quite foolish for thinking she had taken an opening.

"I refuse to have to explain that to you any further. If you cannot keep yourself from attacking the other Attendants, then you will leave and not return. Cybele's grace be with you, for you need it desperately." Caroline stood up and walked towards the window of her office. She turned and cast a defeated look at her student. "I expected better of you. I am so very disappointed, Emi. I know you can do better. You just have to want to."

Emilia stared at her with eyes of cold stone.

"You are hereby assigned to assist Selda in the kitchens for the rest of May, and two weeks into June. For the next two weeks, you will also be unable to join the rest of the Attendants in unstructured free time activities in the evenings and will be confined to your bedroom. Is that understood?"

"You can't do that, Vestal! I'm not a prisoner!"

Caroline shook her head. "This is not imprisonment," she said, turning back to look out the window. "This is penance in the eyes of Cybele. Violence is never allowed. You knew this when you took your rites as an Attendant, and if I am to be blunt with you, you should be thankful that this is the penance you are receiving. Elysium knows that if the High Vestal were doling out this judgment that you would be washing pots and pans until long after the end of summer. You are dismissed."

Emilia huffed and stood up; her hands balled into fists. Caroline watched her stare down Turonn, who opened the office door for her. Once in the hallway, they could hear the sounds of Emilia crying - she was not a bad youth, but she had certainly changed in ways contrary to the Church's teachings, especially lately.

Caroline sighed as she slumped down into her chair. Turonn looked at her sympathetically.

"Never gets easier, does it?"

"I would agree. Although I've been in her shoes before."

"The time you put the decaffeinated coffee into the High Vestal's supply, yes?"

"I still can't believe I got caught for that."

"At least she was lenient. You also didn't punch any of your fellow Attendants."

"At her age, getting in trouble feels like the end of the world, Turonn."

"I suppose it might," he said, sitting down in the seat across from Caroline. "I don't think you were necessarily too harsh with her, though. You are uniquely cognizant about your tact with the girls, I have noticed - although I confess how Emilia reacted was quite the opposite of how I would've expected her to follow your lead."

"Yes, that was... that was unusual, wasn't it?"

"What should we make of that?"

"We'll report it to the High Vestal, naturally," Caroline said, resting her head on her hand with her elbow on the desk. "I don't know what to do about her anymore. For all I know, she'll poison all of us or beat up poor old Selda or who knows even? I'm exhausted by it. It's the third time this week you've had to march her in here, and she isn't getting it, Turonn. Was she always like this?"

Turonn shook his head. "She was always just quiet, almost reticent. I suppose it could easily be her real personality, but... well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you about how stressful it is to be her age, right? Maybe something's going on with the girls or she's being bullied and they're using her acting out as a scapegoat?"

Caroline bit her lip. "I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps we need to talk to the other girls about this?"

"I would say that's a wise first step, wouldn't you? We should start that tomorrow, though. It's getting late in the day, so once you're wrapped up here, I can escort you back to your quarters if you wish."

"That would be lovely," Caroline nodded. "It's a beautiful afternoon, isn't it? If you were allowed in my quarters, I would be happy to host you for dinner."

"That's quite alright, Vestal. While I appreciate the offer, there's something magical about the pizza they've had at that gas station down the road from here. I don't know what it is, but it's calling me tonight."

"Oh yeah? Next time we go into town, you'd best bring me along," Caroline said, standing and packing her things into her satchel. "Or if you feel so inclined, bring me back a slice for lunch?"

"I would happily, Vestal, but I fear it doesn't keep well. I tried reheating it in the microwave in the faculty room, but for some reason or another it decided to entirely melt as opposed to simply heat. I don't really care to know why it did that, but..."

They laughed as Caroline followed Turonn out of the office and into the classroom building's long hallway. Outside the sun was dipping below the horizon and it cast the landscape in that beautiful golden tone Caroline had been dreaming about - a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, and Caroline noticed that some of the flowers along the walkway were starting to bud. Spring was always so beautiful at Freyja Chapel, and part of the Attendants' work over the previous months had been preparing and planting flowers all over the grounds. It was lovely to see their hard work bear fruit, and the prospect of the grounds becoming awash in rainbows of color in the days to come filled Caroline with joy.

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Caroline clicked her tongue as she waited for the pot of water on the stove top to boil. Pasta had sounded like a good idea initially, but in having not had a break for the entire day, her stomach growled like an angry beast. The Technivision had nothing worth watching other than some Falco Fortis movie, and she glazedly stared at it as scenes of needlessly gory violence played out on screen. She was happy she'd muted it - even if it was the only thing remotely decent to watch, it was much too loud for her tastes. She shook her head and sighed, then walked to her bedroom to change out of her robes.

She'd been neglectful of her own self-care other than making sure her burn healed properly - its progress had been slow but steady, and other than some faint lines on her palm, not much of the original wound remained. For this she was quite grateful, as initially it had been excruciating to the point where she could not even flex her hand. She settled on a t-shirt and shorts to rest in - no one would be coming in to see her, anyway - and once changed, returned to the kitchen where the pot was at last boiling.

She'd learned the recipe from her mother - a local Larnell favorite with fresh shrimp, white wine, peppers, and other spices from the coast - and soon, the aromas of home filled her senses. Caroline had thought of home at length lately, and the homesick feelings of days past seemed to be rearing their head once again. Thoughts of the last Dream she'd had had cemented those desires. The idea of going into that house in the Dream left her fraught with anxiety, however, and as such she had not had another Dream like it since.

Caroline turned off the Technivision as she sat down with her dinner on the couch - the smell of freshly grated cheese meshed too nicely with the perfectly seared shrimp and the creaminess of the sauce, and while she'd planned on keeping some for the next day's leftovers, she couldn't help but finish off two heaping bowls.

Stress had been stealing her appetite, so it was nice to finally tuck into a meal without reservation. She cleaned up the kitchen and laid back on the couch, taking a book she'd been pecking at from the coffee table. The Street Weaver, the cover read, and it'd come to her as a suggestion from the High Vestal when she'd been sharing her quarters. It seemed like a light enough read, but Caroline wasn't entirely thrilled with the flow of the story. She knew that others frowned on them, but she favored stories with more meat on their bones, epic fantasies and tales of heroism. She'd already burned through all of the ones the Chapel library held, though, and Vivienne hadn't seemed entirely keen on purchasing more to Caroline's bitter chagrin.

Turonn tried, at least. He'd brought her back books on his trips into Rigelios or the other surrounding cities, and while some had been excellent reads, she hadn't really found what she was looking for.

After about fifteen pages, though, the after effects of the food began to take hold of Caroline - an inexorable wave of sleepiness crested upon her and she snuggled into the couch, book held in hand. She wanted to get through enough of it to speak with Vivienne about it the next day, but the siren's call of sleep just kept on calling. Disgruntled, she set the book facedown to save her page and dragged herself around the couch and into her bedroom. She'd left the door open, but the front door was locked. The only people who had keys were Turonn and Vivienne, and barring a tragedy, neither would be entering her chambers without a damn good reason.

She sauntered into the bathroom where she readied herself for sleep - she washed her face, unbraided her hair, and tried not to look in the mirror for too long as she marveled at how she'd gotten through the day without anyone telling her how absolutely haggard she looked. That wouldn't be for them to say anyway, she thought, toothbrush in mouth. She liked how she looked, but some days were harder than others to reconcile that self-image. There would always be parts of her she didn't particularly care for - her chest was too big against her thin frame, and she hated the leers others gave her for something that was out of her control. Sometimes thinking about her body sent her down a dark spiral, but mercifully tonight was not one of those nights. The specter of sleep loomed too large, too close to deny, and Caroline smiled at herself as she combed a knot out of her long hair. You're pretty alright, you know.

Back in her bedroom proper, she turned off the lights and settled into bed. She'd been longing for its embrace all day - it couldn't fight with her or argue or make her feel useless. At last, she pulled her blankets up around her into a cocoon of comfort, closed her eyes, and fell deeply asleep.

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The land before Caroline was an infinite plain marked with rolling hills and cut with streams and rivers. The sky above her was clear and blue and there was not a single cloud to be found. Sounds of wildlife murmured in the thickets and overgrowths beyond, and at once she knew she had returned to the world of the Dreaming.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

This time, she decided to stay quiet, tiptoeing down towards a stream and following its length so that the sound of her gentle footsteps were masked by the burbling waters. Above her, the sky seemed to ripple as if drops of water were falling upon its other side - the idea of which startled Caroline, as she'd never thought about the sky like that. As she stared at the ripples, she noticed a crack along its center, which slowly gouged itself open into a rich shade of vermilion. It was almost as if the sky was wounded, she thought, but had no idea what any of it could mean.

She looked away from it - there was no point in fixating on something she didn't understand or that she wasn't in control of. She spotted something moving in one of the bushes along the creekside and felt the hair on the nape of her neck bristle - someone was watching her. But who?

Caroline kept her mouth shut as she hastened her pace along the creekside. On the other side, bushes continued to rustle, as if whatever may have been watching her was keeping pace. When she stopped, the rustling stopped, and when she resumed her movements whatever was over there was doing the same thing. She felt her heart beating hard inside her chest as fear crept in - she'd been doing such a good job locking it out, but the idea that something was stalking her, following every move she made - it was too much.

"Stop following me," Caroline called across the water, which seemed to grow wider across as each word left her mouth. The creekside became a brook which became a river, and soon she couldn't see the other side at all.

The next step she took was one into warm sand. When she turned around, she saw the boardwalk and main strip of Larnell, her hometown. Another step landed her foot onto a fortunately dull piece of sea glass, and as she carefully stepped further up the shore she felt seashells and other debris poke into her bare feet. This place wasn't real, either, but it certainly felt real.

The cut sky was now fused once more, a solid blue speckled with high cirrus clouds. A crisp breeze cut through Caroline's shirt, and she shivered. It was morning here, and she knew that inevitably this Dream would end up right where the last had ended. She remembered from the last time that she had some level of influence within her surroundings, and soon found herself with a jacket, pants, and shoes to keep warm. She was still her adult self - the transformation into her past self hadn't happened yet at least - and as she walked down the boardwalk she took in the sights and sounds she'd been missing so much in her time away.

The smell of fried dough wafted on the air as she walked by a stall where a faceless person worked, endlessly turning dough in a large open fryer. Another person without a face organized and folded touristy shirts behind the closed doors of another shop - much like her memories of this place, the peripheral things seemed imperfect. Some of the details, the names of the shops or the words on other signage were obfuscated into words that were unrecognizable. One shop in particular along the boardwalk stood out as clear as the day, however.

Caroline's uncle Gavin had owned a sandwich shop on the waterfront, and as she passed by it and its papered-over windows, she pressed her hand to the cool glass of the window and tried to peer inside. As she did, the vacant building began to rapidly coalesce into the way it looked when she was a child, and she watched with awe as her uncle and her aunt Tina worked diligently at the counter, talking with a slew of customers as they entered and exited the shop. They paid Caroline no mind - besides, she was just a child, what could she possibly -

Caroline was once more her nine year old self, and she could feel her heart pounding as she realized the moment she'd been running from was now almost certainly an inevitability. Caroline knew she had to act - something was terribly wrong, and she needed to tell someone right away. Will that appease the voice? Will that tell the Dream I reject it? Or do I risk rejecting Cybele herself in doing so?

"Uncle Gavin," Caroline said, pulling open the door so hard that the bell hanging from it flipped over the top. "I need to talk to you, right now!"

Gavin and Tina looked at her with concern. "Carrie, aren't you supposed to be in school right now?" Tina asked, hands on her hips. Caroline scowled.

"Yeah, but I'm not. There's something going on at home," Caroline began, but as she tried to speak her voice felt compelled to work against her.

"Something at home?" Gavin turned to Tina suspiciously. "Is it... is it Phoebe?"

Caroline wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at her throat to make the sounds stop, but whatever unseen force had spoken to her quite clearly had her in its thrall. Her voice came without her permission.

"Phoebe has not been doing well today," Caroline said, and Gavin looked at Tina with sad eyes. "Mom sent me to get lunch for us all."

"What's that sister of yours think this is, Gav? A soup kitchen?" Tina balked as Gavin sighed deeply.

"No, Tina. And seriously, you gonna tell that sweet girl that we can't help her out? She's goin' through blazes too, ya know."

Caroline hid her face in her hands. She didn't want them to see that she was crying. She'd done all of this before. This is exactly how it was before. This is different than the last time I was in the Dream.

Choice is merely an illusion of permission, the deep voice bellowed. Caroline looked around for it, but it didn't seem like anyone other than her heard it. You have been fighting against the tide, child of Cybele.

"I'll get some sandwiches done up for you," Gavin said. "It'll be a few minutes, but I already know what y'all enjoy, so I've got it covered. Don't even think about paying." Tina gave him the side-eye but knew there wasn't much she could do to stop him. As he worked, Caroline watched. She knew in the present that he'd gotten sick and died just the past year - a second wound in her heart. She had not been home for his death or burial, but she missed him terribly. It is good to see you again, Gavin, even in circumstances such as these, she thought, a gentle smile coming to her lips.

An offering of grace before it resumes, the voice said. May this gesture of goodwill grant you the strength you need to overcome what is next.

As Gavin came around the counter with a tied-up bag of sandwiches, Caroline wrapped him in a tight embrace, surprising him.

"Ha, what's that for, kiddo?"

"I just wanted to. Thank you so much for doing this for us."

And thank you, voice, for giving me this chance to say goodbye.

"In times like these, you need all the help you can get. Don't forget that, alright, Carrie?"

She nodded and waved as she left Gavin and Tina and the sandwich shop behind. As she stepped outside, bag in hand, the world morphed again before her eyes - she stood in front of her family's home once more.

I can do this. I know I can do this.

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"Carrie," her father said, meeting her at the door. "That was quick, is everything alright?"

Caroline could hear the murmur of the hospice nurses in the room adjacent. At the time she didn't know what they were there to do, but the thought of it now chilled her to the core. She shook her head at her father's question as she handed him the bag of sandwiches. "Uncle Gavin made some extra. He said to make sure we were eating, even if we didn't feel like we should be."

"Your mother's family has been good to us," Ethan said, scratching his beard. "It is hard sometimes, but he's right. Have you eaten, Carrie?"

This is a different day from the first time I came to the Dream.

"I didn't. Everything smelled so good that it was almost impossible to make it home without sneaking a bite."

"Well, you know, I wouldn't've judged you. Come on into the kitchen and we'll have some lunch. Mom will join us soon."

Caroline unwrapped her sandwich - chicken salad without onions, her favorite - the smell of freshly made bread combined with the chicken salad made her salivate, and she found it difficult to wait for her mother before digging in. Cristyn joined them at the table with only a gentle acknowledgment of Caroline's presence, and quickly and surgically picked at her own meal.

"That brother of yours is a good man," Ethan said, wiping bacon grease on a napkin. He poured lemonade into a cup and passed it to Caroline, who accepted it gratefully.

"He's been through a lot too, you know," Cristyn said quietly. "It's a small comfort to have someone else who has been through something similar to this so close to us, but honestly I wish it wasn't happening at all."

Caroline knew her uncle's first wife had passed to a similar cancer to Phoebe's just after Caroline was born. From photographs her mother had shown her, her aunt Kendra had been a vibrant, artsy sort of woman. Caroline wondered what it would've been like to have known her.

"No one ever wants these things to happen," Ethan said, shaking his head. "But what can we do? If it's Cybele's will, then we must be pliable to it. Is that right?"

"I wouldn't call it right by any stretch, Ethan," Cristyn said, defeat apparent in her voice. "But there's no stopping it now, either. Is it wrong of me to just want it to be over?"

A hush fell over the room. Gone was the beeping of the machine in the living room that tracked Phoebe's vitals. Cristyn went white with abject horror and turned to Ethan, whose eyes met hers with the unspeakable knowledge. The moment had been permanently seared into Caroline's mind's eye, and once more that familiar terror flooded into her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fontaine," Dr. Wilson said, lowering her surgical mask. "We need you in the living room, now."

"Carrie," Cristyn said, crying now. "It's time to say goodbye to Phoebe, okay? I know you aren't ready. I'm not ready. Dad's not ready. But it's time."

Caroline stifled a scream. She looked around the room for anything that could tear her from the Dream but found nothing - every time she went off 'script' the scenery froze fast around her, constricting her movements. There was no resisting the moment this time, only the bitter acceptance that she'd need to face it down once more. May it be the last time.

"O holy Goddess, who art in Elysium," the Vestal of Larnell's church said aloud as Caroline and her parents slowly filtered into the room. The life support machines had been turned off, and Phoebe's fight was almost over. The little girl laid lifeless on the plush bed at the center of the room, eyes glossed over, staring upon oblivion.

Caroline tried to hide behind her father, who simply took her hand in his. "We do this together, Carrie. We need to." Her mother nodded and took her other hand.

"May your gentle winds ferry young Phoebe into your hallowed halls," the Vestal continued, voice cracking. "May her spirit entwine with yours in perpetuity."

"I love you, my baby," Cristyn said, kneeling beside the bed, her face pressed against Phoebe's. Ethan and Caroline crowded in with her. Caroline remembered the fear she had felt at touching her sister, as stupid as that seemed now as an adult - she'd spent so much of her life regretting not taking her sister's hand in hers as she passed that when she took Phoebe's hand in hers this time, the room exploded around her in light.

A triumph. Perhaps you are worthy.

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The burst of light turned to a single pinprick of singularity as the world dissolved around Caroline and she felt herself falling. Rain buffeted her face as she turned end over end in her descent, and when she tried to scream the sounds from her mouth were naught more than a deconstructed whisper. She was back in her adult body again, and the jacket she'd conjured seemed to fade in and out of reality as she fell.

As the rain intensified, the voice parted the din of the deluge.

"You have been tried and found worthy," it intoned flatly. "You will look upon one of my faces and I will bestow upon you a gift."

The rain stopped all at once, freezing in place around Caroline, who was now suspended in midair. The sheets of rain converged upon one another, forming walls around her that created a waterfall-ringed room that expanded, then stopped. Caroline was lowered onto a cold, stone floor. Her shoes and other clothes that she'd conjured were now gone - the dampness of the floor chilled her feet as she stepped forward towards a bright blue pillar at one end of the room. The floor seemed unstable under her feet, and each step made her feel as if it was going to give way underneath.

"Vestal Caroline," the voice said, reverberating and echoing around the room of four waterfalls. "I have chosen you as my Vessel. You will bring my gift to the people of Terracius. You will spread the gift far and wide. For this, Child of Cybele, I require fealty."

"Fealty?" Caroline asked, stepping back. "To whom? Are you the Goddess?"

"I do not give my True Name," the voice said, disdain palpable. "Look upon the dais before you. Upon it is a chalice containing the gift of the Dreamseers. The gift you bear within you is only half-formed, Caroline. You must germinate it and let it grow strong. Only then will I be able to see through your eyes and become as close as one with you."

She turned to the chalice, which was tall, golden, and encrusted with what had to have been billions of Terros worth of gemstones. She did not budge from her place, however.

"How do I know that I can trust you? How do I know that whatever in there won't kill me? Is this not what happened to Dreamseer Arondel?"

"Ha," the voice laughed in a way that deeply unsettled her. "Who do you think you are speaking to?"

Caroline felt her blood run cold. "There's no way. Absolutely not. How did you..."

The blue light coalesced into the shape of a young woman about Caroline's age. Her eyes shone cerulean as she stepped towards Caroline in calm, proper steps.

"It is I," the voice said as the woman from the paintings looked upon her with triumph. "Dreamseer Rin Arondel, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. The All-Seeing Eye of Fornacis, the Champion of the Eternal Azure herself."

Caroline stepped back once more. "How can this be? Where are we?"

"What matters now is your compliance, Caroline. You must acquiesce to the power. My time draws short now, such is the need for a new Champion. Within that chalice swirls my own blood and the blood of the Goddess Cybele. Once you slake your thirst with its contents, you will share the same power as I and as Cybele - you will become a Goddess, Caroline."

Fear paralyzed Caroline as she turned to Rin Arondel.

"I do not wish to be a Goddess," she shook her head. "That is not what I want. I do not want this gift you speak of; I just want to go home and be free of all of this."

"Such is not your fate," Rin's voice said harshly. "Choice is an illusion, as I have already told you. Everything you have done, everything you will ever do, everything that you think of - all of it is predestined at my hand, Caroline!"

Caroline shrank back from the scream. Rin took the chalice into her hand, lifting it as if it weighed nothing at all. Every alarm in Caroline's head blared as she stepped back once more, but Rin continued her advance.

"You lost your choice, Caroline! You succeeded where too many had failed before! I cannot let you go."

"I will not do this!" Caroline yelled back at Rin. She took another step back towards the waterfalls. "I will not! You cannot force me to do this. No Goddess would do such a thing!"

Rin paused and raised her head to look down upon Caroline haughtily.

"No. No Goddess would do this, would she?"

Caroline looked on in horror as Rin's face shifted and her body contorted until she was Phoebe. Caught off guard, Caroline fell to her knees in despair.

"It's me, Carrie. It's me! Haven't you missed me? Do you want a hug? I found a neat bug and..."

"Stop this," Caroline cried, begging. "Please. Please, I beg you, stop this and let me go."

Phoebe, or Rin, or whoever this being was, looked straight through her. The terror she felt was so complete that she could not as much as budge from her place. I need to run. I need to get out. I need to get out before...

The mold has been set and the die has been cast. You are not the one, Caroline. You are an ill fit, and now you must be disposed of!

Blue light radiated out from Phoebe as her face distorted into a scream. Caroline screamed. Phoebe's arms extended snakelike as they coiled around Caroline's body. She could feel the being's breath in her ear. Make this end. Hurry up.

Thunder shook the waterfall space.

Ah... so another window opens. It is time for us to leave, the voice said, subdued. We shall leave you with a parting gift! This is not the last time you will hear this voice. No... certainly not the last...

Caroline screamed in pain as radiant blue claws tore at her back, running the length from her neck to above her rear. She fell forward, completely unable to move.

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18th of May, 649

Caroline woke with a start in her bed, gasping for breath. The cold, wet feeling she'd felt in the Dream from the waterfall chamber's mists soaked her clothes in reality. She tried to steady her breathing - what was that she'd just seen? - but as much as she tried to breathe and hold it together, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. Seeing Phoebe had been enough emotional torment for a lifetime, but thoughts of the waterfall chamber, the chalice, the shapeshifting presence claiming to be Rin... Why? Why can't I calm down?

The morning broadcast from her nightstand radio talked of something Caroline only got bits and pieces of – but all of that seemed so distant right now, so far away.

She felt herself shivering - the coldness just seemed to get colder. She tried to wrap her arms around herself and felt the most hideous pain she'd ever felt in her life as she moved. She howled in agony as she lifted her shoulder from the bed and looked behind her - the sheets were soaked in her own blood.