Stella watched as “Cassandra” fell to the forest floor. She didn’t even bother trying to catch the woman. It’s not like a little fall would harm her. “Cassandra” was in the Core Shaping stage. It would take more than that to harm her. Unfortunately, this included an Immortal’s wrath.
As Stella stared down at the girl, it was all she could do to contain her anger. The mortals had a saying, “If looks could kill…”. High level cultivators, especially Immortals, had a number of ways to accomplish this. Sometimes, a strong enough killing intent was enough, and Stella very much wanted to kill this “Cassandra” for daring to lay hands on her son, Darian.
Due to her…appetites, Stella had a reputation among the clans, sects, and schools in the Iron Leaf region, as well as the regions surrounding it. Well, Nova had a reputation. She was considered by many to be a…What was the term? Oh yes. A man-eater. It had gotten to the point that many started hiding their treasured sons and disciples whenever she was around, for fear that she would use them to slake her boundless lust. Some had even disguised their men as women!
Stella snorted in her mind.
While the rumors and gossip did have some merit, they were exaggerated; malicious lies spread by her enemies and detractors.
What she never understood was the anger that the families of those men directed at her, especially the mothers when it came to their sons. While those families learned to hide their anger as she grew in power, eventually becoming an Immortal, the anger itself never went away. It always confused her. She wasn’t hurting her partners. Quite the opposite in fact. It was just a little fun. And she had stopped going after married and affianced men ages ago. Why did they get angry?
Now Stella understood.
When she saw this conniving bitch had put her hands on Darian, on Stella’s son, it was all she could do to hold herself back. It was the first time she had experienced this kind of anger. She was surprised that Darian’s house hadn’t exploded from the force of her rage. It had taken her far too long to get herself under control enough to avoid accidentally killing “Cassandra”, and possibly injuring Darian in the process.
No. If Stella was going to kill “Cassandra”, it wouldn’t be an accident. It would be deliberate, assuming she wanted to be that merciful. Initially, she had intended to observe “Cassandra” without interfering, and see what she would do. Stella had also intended it to be a lesson for Darian about not trusting people too much, for when he found out the truth about “Cassandra” when she inevitably got caught by Clan Wind Dance.
That was no longer the case.
First, however, Stella wanted more information. When she had first scanned this “Cassandra” with her mind sense, it had been a cursory search. She hadn’t delved too deeply. This time, she wouldn’t be so polite.
Stella used her mind sense to study every aspect of “Cassandra”. Her body, her mind, her soul. Every part of her being, from the cells that made up her physical form, to her deepest, darkest memories. It was an invasive, intrusive search. Nothing remained untouched. Few things could hide themselves from an Immortal’s eyes, except the work of another Immortal.
“Cassandra”, or rather Jaime, moaned despite her unconscious state. While Stella hadn’t caused any damage, scouring Jaime with her mind sense was a painful and uncomfortable experience for the woman. If Jaime had been awake, she would have been screaming.
All of this took place within a fraction of a second. Jaime had been unconscious for a few seconds at most.
Just as Stella finished scouring Jaime’s being, she felt a presence approach and stop near her.
“You’re getting more brazen, Nova,” Sword Immortal Darian said in a languid voice. He lounged atop a nearby branch. “You’re lucky that the other two are in seclusion, and that I’m the one who volunteered to keep an eye out for you. Otherwise, you would have been driven from Silverwood Vale a long time ago.”
Despite his apparent lazy demeanor, Stella didn’t buy his act for a second. The man felt like a blade ready to be unsheathed at any moment. If he turned that blade on her, it wouldn’t end well for him. He was young, for an Immortal, and was at the low end of the Immortal stage. Stella had been alive for thousands of years, and had reached the peak of the Immortal stage a long time ago. The difference in power between them was vast.
“Stella,” she said. “When I’m wearing this face, call me Stella. It helps keep me in character.” She glanced at him. “Something you should know all about, Zayne.”
“Very well, Stella,” he said, acceding. “I’ve been lenient, but my patience has limits. You’re pushing against those limits.”
Stella turned to him, a sharp smile on her face.
“And what do you plan to do if I push past those limits? If you attack me, your precious Silverwood Vale would be destroyed in the ensuing battle.”
Not to mention that she would kill him. Immortals had conquered time, but they could still die. Stella knew that more than most, since she had killed her fair share of them. That wasn’t even taking into consideration cultivators above the Immortal stage.
“So would Darian.” Sword Immortal Darian sat up and shrugged. “You left him with our clan for a reason. Starting a fight will negate those reasons. Remember, you came to us.”
The space between them writhed and rippled as the two stared at each other.
“You want to stay near Darian,” Sword Immortal Darian said without looking away. “Fine, I understand. As long as you stay in character, as you put it, I have no problem with this. However, if you’re going to be Stella, Darian’s mortal servant, then you need to be Stella. Everyone needs to act their part for this to work.”
Stella continued to meet his stare, before looking away first, frustrated. In her frustration, she flicked her finger to the side. A large area of the Silverwood in that direction exploded into dust. When the dust settled, there was a large gouge in the earth.
This did little to vent Stella’s frustration, but she held back from doing anything else. That was one of the downsides of becoming an Immortal. The world around them was just so fragile.
“Very well,” she said, her voice harsh. “At least let me handle this trash first.” She gestured to Jaime. “I would be doing your clan a favor after all.”
Sword Immortal Darian looked at the unconscious woman.
“Ah, her. I’m already aware of her, and her compatriot.”
“Then why haven’t you done anything? She’s come near my son twice already!” She added the next part as an afterthought. “She also killed two of your mortals.”
“Our policy is to let the rest of the clan deal with lesser foes. They’re more than capable of defending themselves. We focus on the bigger threats.”
The look Sword Immortal Darian gave Stella left no doubt that Clan Wind Dance’s Honored Ancestors considered her one of those bigger threats. She found it flattering.
“Then you shouldn’t mind if I deal with her myself.”
Sword Immortal Darian stared at her for several more seconds, before looking up, as if beseeching the heavens for guidance. Too bad that his own ancestor, Dancing Immortal Cyd, wasn’t here to give him advice.
“Fine,” he said. “Go ahead. Do what you will with her. I don’t care. She forfeited her life the moment she came into our home and killed our people.”
Good. Stella grinned and looked down at Jaime.
“What are you planning on doing with her?” Sword Immortal Darian said.
He pushed off the branch and landed on the ground next to Stella.
“I thought you didn’t care?”
“I don’t, but I am curious. Killing her would be the simplest solution.”
“It would be, yes. I’m not that merciful, however.”
“Given what you put your own son through, I’m not surprised,” Sword Immortal Darian muttered.
Stella ignored him. Instead, she crouched down next to Jaime and pointed to the woman’s face, before looking back at Sword Immortal Darian.
“Take a good look at her.”
He gave Jaime a concentrated look that lasted a fraction of a second. Like before, Jaime let out a moan of pain.
“Huh. That’s interesting. I’ve never seen anything like that mask before. It seems demonic in nature.”
“It is, but not in the way you’d think.” Stella gestured to Jaime’s face, or rather the mask she wore. “It’s called the Mask of the Mortal Face. It was a treasure of an extinct sect that existed thousands of years ago called the Reborn Demon Sect. This sect was comprised of demonic cultivators who wanted to redeem themselves for their sins.”
Demonic cultivators were those who practiced techniques that warped and twisted their souls. Instead of becoming Immortals, demonic cultivators worked to become True Demons, the demonic equivalent of an Immortal. While they weren’t necessarily evil, those who walked the path of demonic cultivation usually weren’t good people. Most found their techniques abhorrent, and demonic cultivators often committed atrocities in order to fuel their cultivation. Or just because they felt like it.
The Pit Viper Sect, as bad as they were, were more akin to bandits masquerading as a sect than anything else. They were evil, but not demonic.
Possessing bodies, enslaving spirits, human sacrifice. The crimes committed by demonic cultivators were long and varied. Most clans, sects, and schools sought to eradicate demonic cultivators whenever they popped up.
There were a few demonic techniques that were tolerated, if not accepted. The Dawn and Dusk Sect had a few who practiced these more acceptable techniques. Stella even had a few friends among them. One, nicknamed the King of Sin, had taught her how to deal with her inner demon. He had also been an invaluable partner in one of the most important projects of her life.
“These Reborn Demons, as they liked to call themselves, performed good works in order to purify their souls,” Stella continued. “Once they were pure enough, they would put a piece of a mortal’s soul into the Mask of the Mortal Face and then put on the mask. It would mix the piece of the mortal’s soul with their own, letting them be reborn as someone new. It’s a form of pseudo-reincarnation. Once they were done with the fusion, they would take off the mask for someone else to use.”
The Reborn Demon Sect had also been masters at soulcrafting, the art of manipulating and shaping the soul. They had needed to be, in order to purify their souls and become reborn. Stella had studied a lot of their techniques and methods in order to prepare for Darian’s conception. It took literal ages to collect all the necessary artifacts, scrolls, and writings.
In all the Shattered Lands, she was likely the foremost expert on the Reborn Demon Sect and soulcrafting. Not bad for a woman reputed to be a lustful drunk with an insatiable appetite for violence.
“These Reborn Demons wanted to redeem themselves,” Sword Immortal Darian said in a wry tone. “Yet they had no problem with mutilating mortals’ souls for their own gain.”
Stella shrugged.
“They took pieces from volunteers who were willing to endure the pain to help others. Besides, the soul is more durable than you think. It can be healed. Even if you shatter one, it will eventually recover.”
Stella had seen it happen in the Underworld, the realm of the dead. She had gone there in order to study the soul and the process of reincarnation. Souls that had been missing pieces, or had been torn to shreds, were made whole again. That had been an interesting adventure, and one that had given her great insight. Learning how to repair souls had been necessary to her goals.
Sword Immortal Darian crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at her.
“I’m very curious as to how you know all this, Stella,” he said. “And why. You never struck me as the type of woman to care about this sort of thing.”
Stella just gave him an enigmatic smile. When it became clear that she wouldn’t answer, Sword Immortal Darian just shook his head.
“What does this have to do with your plans for Jaime over there?” he asked instead.
“One of the Mask of the Mortal Face’s most important features is its ability to erase a cultivator’s cultivation without killing them, or damaging them to the point where they couldn’t cultivate again. Even though they wanted to redeem themselves, the Reborn Demons were still demonic cultivators. Demonic techniques, by their nature, twisted and corrupted the soul. Why purify themselves, if they couldn’t cultivate without undoing all that effort? The Mask of the Mortal Face was their answer.”
At that, Sword Immortal Darian started.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“So it doesn’t just suppress one’s cultivation, like Jaime believed?”
“She was an ignorant fool who played around with something she didn’t understand,” Stella said in a flat voice. “Now she will pay the price for her foolishness.”
She looked down at Jaime, who wore a pained expression on her face despite her unconsciousness. It amazed Stella that a treasure of the Reborn Demon Sect had somehow ended up in the Pit Viper Sect’s repository. The fools probably hadn’t known its true value. Somehow, that same treasure had ended up in the hands of a woman who would pursue Darian for her own ends. Darian, whose conception and creation had been the result of the Reborn Demon Sect’s methods and techniques for soulcrafting.
This was not a coincidence. Stella suspected that fate was at play here.
Fate was a tricky and fickle, but real, force that governed the universe. Trying to understand it, to manipulate it, was no easy endeavor. People still tried. Divination, lucky charms, fortune telling. There were countless methods to try and discern one’s fate, as well as change it. A few grew quite skilled at it. Stella knew of one Immortal whose cultivation revolved entirely around that concept.
Of course, cultivation was all about defying fate and ascending to the heavens.
Regardless of who they were, only fools ignored fate, or denied its existence.
Did this Jaime woman have fate with Darian?
Stella loathed the idea. Then again, this woman wouldn’t be just Jaime for much longer. She would be someone who had both Jaime’s and Cassandra’s memories and life experiences. While that wasn’t much better, in Stella’s opinion, it was an improvement. Jaime had been a monster who only cared about gaining power, while Cassandra had been an innocent. Mingling the souls of both could result in a decent person.
Maybe.
Regardless, if this Jaime woman had fate with Darian, then Stella’s initial plan might backfire. In that case, perhaps it would be a better idea to work with fate instead. Directing a current was easier than working against it.
“Initially,” Stella said, breaking her silence. “I had intended to let the mask finish its work, before dropping Jaime off at her sect. While the Mask of the Mortal Face erases one’s cultivation, it doesn’t make one mortal again, despite its name.” She gave Sword Immortal Darian a smile. “Imagine having the body, mind, and soul of a cultivator in the Core Shaping stage, but not the cultivation. She would be the equivalent of a weak spirit beast born at that level.”
Sword Immortal Darian grimaced.
“I doubt the Pit Viper Sect would welcome her with open arms, and aid in her recovery. They would most likely harvest her for parts, or use her as a human pill furnace. A cruel fate.”
He said that last part with a hint of admonishment.
“You’ve seen her memories,” Stella said. “You know what she did. She deserves a cruel fate.”
“You said that was what you intended initially,” Sword Immortal Darian said, changing the topic. “That isn’t the case anymore?”
Stella picked Jaime up with ease.
“It would be a waste to just throw her away without making use of her,” she said. “Her soul is very malleable right now, thanks to the fusion. I’ll put a number of mental compulsions on her. That way, she’ll no longer be a danger to your clan or my son. After that, I’ll let Darian decide her fate. Let it be a lesson against trusting others too much for him, as well as an opportunity.”
Stella would also make some other changes to Jaime, including a soul binding, though Sword Immortal Darian didn’t need to know that. After all, few people knew that the purity of someone’s spirit root could be changed under special circumstances. Changing the soul caused changes to the mind and body, which Jaime found out when she put on the mask. Otherwise, how else would she look like Cassandra?
Those who used the Mask of the Mortal Face paid a heavy price, but it gave them the opportunity to remake themselves anew. This included altering the path of their cultivation, though there were limits. In some ways, putting on the mask was the best thing that could have happened to Jaime. It gave her the chance to remake herself, though Stella doubted the woman would see it that way.
As for what effect the soul binding would have on Jaime, she would let Darian decide that.
Stella would have to take the mask away after it finished changing her. That way, no one else would misuse it out of foolishness.
Sword Immortal Darian frowned.
“Unless you have objections,” Stella said when she saw the look on his face. “She attacked your clan first. If you want to decide her fate, let me know.”
“No, it’s not that,” he said, shaking his head. “My intuition tells me that you’re up to something devious, though not anything harmful to Clan Wind Dance. Honestly, I should just kill the girl. It would be kinder than whatever you have planned for her.”
Stella couldn’t deny that, so she remained silent. After a moment, Sword Immortal Darian made a dismissive gesture.
“I stand by what I said earlier. Do what you will. Just make sure nothing harmful happens to Clan Wind Dance.”
Stella smiled. Good. Now she just needed a suitable space for her to work, preferably one with a suitable amount of spirit energy. She could handle the rest. It would have to be close too. Dawn wasn’t too far off, and she wanted to bring Jaime back to Vera’s home before then. She also needed to make sure that Astra was informed of her plans. That way, her junior sister could advise Darian, and help him make an informed decision.
She looked forward to seeing what her son chose to do.
“Sword Immortal Darian,” she said. “How much would it take for me to borrow one of your clan’s immortal caves?”
----------------------------------------
One of Astra’s clones lay on the ground next to the newly built entrance to Darian’s secret realm. It had been a long time since she had been this exhausted, and she was never the best at building things. Her technique was called The Nine Gates of Destruction. Let it never be said that she didn’t love her nephew. After all the effort she had gone through, the boy better be grateful.
There was also all the work her main body had been up to, and was still in the middle of doing. Astra’s clone had advised her main body to ease up, since there was no need to rush. However, her main body had been in a frenzy after learning about the appalling state of Darian’s education.
Astra’s clone didn’t blame her main body. Darian’s clan should have at least made the effort to see to his learning, even if he couldn’t cultivate at the time. He was still a Young Master of their clan. Did they have no pride?
Darren had an excuse at least. He had been too busy recovering from his injuries to pay too much attention to that aspect of Darian’s life. He had assumed, rightfully so, that his family wouldn’t let him down. Apparently Darian himself had never brought it up. When Darren had found out what happened, he promised to help fix things.
That said, Clan Wind Dance wasn’t entirely to blame. Senior Sister Nova also played a part.
When Astra got her claws on her senior sister, she would shake the woman for the way she had treated Darian. While she could understand a little why Senior Sister Nova had done what she did, Astra thought she had taken it too far.
A presence made itself known at the edge of Astra’s awareness, or rather the awareness of her clone. The presence approached and landed near the clone.
“Ugh,” Astra’s clone said. “What do you want, Sword Immortal Darian? I am not in the mood to deal with you right now.”
“I come bearing a message,” Sword Immortal Darian said, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Since it has to do with your charge, you’ll want to read it.”
He tossed a token towards her. She caught it, and then perked up. The token had been made from Immortal-grade memory stone. Certain materials worked best when used for certain purposes. Memory stone, which was lapis lazuli after it had been infused with spirit energy through a rare natural process, was suitable for recording knowledge, memories, and thoughts. Some people used lapis lazuli tokens instead of scrolls to record their techniques.
Unlike recording crystals, which recorded images and sounds around them, the knowledge in a memory stone token had to be inscribed directly using mind sense at a high enough level. It could only be read using mind sense too.
It didn’t take Astra long to figure out who had sent this token.
“I’m surprised that you’re willing to play messenger for Senior Sister Nova,” she said, still studying the token. “I thought she wasn’t allowed on your precious Mt. Wind Dance.”
Sword Immortal Darian shrugged.
“As long as she’s willing to pretend to keep up appearances, so am I.”
“Why do you tolerate her so much? If your roles had been reversed, she would have driven you off or killed you a long time ago. I love her, but I am well aware of my senior sister’s shortcomings. Impatience is one of them.”
At that, Sword Immortal Darian grinned.
“Would you believe me if I said that it was because she named her son after me?”
Astra gave him a flat look.
“No.”
Sword Immortal Darian chuckled at that, before looking at the sky.
“She saved my life,” he said in a soft voice. “A long time ago, when I was still mortal.” He looked back down and grinned at her again. “And that is all I will say on that. You should read that token.”
Before Astra could respond, he was gone. All that remained was a rush of wind, and the echoes of his laughter.
“Show off,” she muttered.
While Astra was tempted to ignore the token, and whatever message it contained, she didn’t. Senior Sister Nova was still her senior, and Astra loved her. Besides, if it had to do with Darian, Astra was obligated to read it. As his aunt and mentor, she was supposed to look after his well-being.
Astra used her mind sense to read the token. She smiled after she finished. So, Senior Sister Nova had found the rat. While Astra was a little disappointed that she would be able to enjoy this particular hunt for much longer, the results would be interesting to watch.
What would Darian do when presented with this choice?
----------------------------------------
When Jaime woke up, she was surprised to find herself in her bed at Young Mistress Vera’s house. The pale light of dawn streamed through the nearby window. Her mind felt fuzzy, as if someone had stuffed it full of cotton. It took Jaime a moment to orient herself.
Had last night been just a dream? It couldn’t have been. It had felt so real.
Jaime tried to reconstruct last night's events in her mind, to try and steady herself. She had met with Reggie and killed him. After that, she returned to Mt. Wind Dance, where she had run into Darian. When she had realized what the Mask of the Mortal Face was doing to her, she had decided to indulge herself for a bit before leaving Mt. Wind Dance and taking it off. Unfortunately, Stella had shown up and scared her off. After that…
She remembered everything. Fleeing Mt. Wind Dane, running through the woods, hearing Stella’s voice before passing out. Jaime exploded into action as she searched her body, mind, and soul. She found nothing different.
No, that wasn’t right. She found something. There was a new addition. Rather, it was something she had been aware of, but it had changed. When she had first put on the Mask of the Mortal Face, she had become aware of Cassandra’s memories and personality, as well as her aura. At that time, she had compared it to a blanket covering her real self. After that, she hadn’t given it much attention. She had been too focused on her mission, and on taking advantage of Darian for her own benefit.
Looking at it now, Jaime saw that the parts of Cassandra she had acquired from the mask were merging with her. They were fusing with her mind and soul.
The Mask of the Mortal Face was changing her into another person.
As a cultivator at the Core Shaping stage, Jaime was more aware of the state of her soul than cultivators at lower levels. However, these changes had occurred so slowly, that Jaime hadn’t noticed them until now.
Feeling revulsion, Jaime reached up to remove the mask. She didn’t care that she was in the middle of enemy territory, and that she was about to reveal herself. All Jaime cared about was removing the mask, and halting whatever changes it was doing to her. She would not lose herself like this. The very thought horrified her.
However, when she tried, Jaime found that she couldn’t remove the mask. She felt it, and even grasped it, but when it came to actually removing the mask, her hands refused to budge. As she tried, she heard a voice speak in her head.
You will not remove the Mask of the Mortal Face.
The voice spoke with absolute authority. Jaime could not disobey it, even though she wanted to. No matter how hard she tried, she could not take off the Mask of the Mortal Face. What was this? Was it some kind of mental compulsion?
The Pit Viper Sect knew a few techniques that allowed a cultivator to compel another person’s mind. Jaime knew a few herself. At the highest level, mental compulsion techniques could turn someone into essentially a living puppet. These required a lot of power and were difficult to perform, however, so most settled for using the lower level ones.
While useful, mental compulsions could be defended against. No one liked the idea of being under someone else’s control, cultivators especially, so they had developed a number of techniques and magical items to defend their minds. Even a sufficiently strong will was enough sometimes.
This did not feel like a mental compulsion Jaime knew about. This felt like something else. It was as if this command had been woven into the very fabric of her being.
She felt a chill deep in her bones. This had to be Stella’s work. She was punishing Jaime for coming near Darian. Despair filled Jaime’s heart as she realized that if she couldn’t remove the Mask of the Mortal Face, she would become Cassandra, or she would become more like Cassandra. Regardless, she would lose who she currently was. She would lose herself, in a literal sense.
“Cassandra!” Bella’s voice said, interrupting Jaime’s thoughts.
The woman herself appeared, barging into Jaime’s room, or Cassandra’s rather. Under normal circumstances, the invasion of her privacy would have incensed Jaime. However, compared to what Stella had done, Bella’s actions were a drop in the bucket.
“Get up, you lazy bones,” the handmaiden said in a cross voice. “I know you spent all night with your farm boy, but that’s no excuse to slack. Today is the day we leave Mt. Wind Dance. We have a lot to do. Get to work!”
With that, Bella left Cassandra’s room without waiting for a reply. Jaime watched her go, when an idea popped into her head. If she couldn’t remove the Mask of the Mortal Face herself, she would ask someone else to do it for her.
She would have to contact Darrell. Before they had separated to complete their mission individually, they had given each other ways to communicate with one another, should they need assistance. As much as it grated on her to ask Darrell for help, and fearing that he would use it to his advantage, it was better than losing herself.
As soon as she had that thought, however, the voice spoke in her mind again.
You will not reveal the existence of the Mask of the Mortal Face to anyone, be it through action or inaction, except for a chosen few.
No, this couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. No. Jaime wouldn’t let it. She would leave Silverwood Vale, head back to the Pit Viper Sect, and put her hopes in her Master figuring out the truth and freeing her.
As if to mock her, the voice spoke again.
You will not leave Silverwood Vale. You will accompany Vera to Darian’s secret realm.
No.
No.
No!
Jaime felt trapped, a prisoner in her own body, as she awaited her fate. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Why? Why do all this? Why not just kill her? Death would have been preferable to losing herself, or rather, it didn’t make a difference. Jaime as she was now would die anyway, once the mask finished its work.
Wait. Was that it? What if she…?
The voice spoke once again.
You will not kill yourself, nor allow yourself to be killed.
Jaime let out a laugh, one full of bitterness and despair. So, she wouldn’t even be allowed to die. In that moment, she understood what it was like to be one of the mortal prisoners captured by her sect. Weak and helpless, and at the mercy of those stronger than her.
Jaime had ended up right where she began, before she had joined the Pit Viper Sect. Things hadn’t changed for her at all. She was all alone, filled with despair and without hope.
The voice spoke in her mind once more.
When the time is right, Darian will decide your fate.
At that, Jaime paused. Why would the voice tell her that? What was the point? To let her know that her fate had been decided for her, like a blade hanging above her neck, and all she could do was wait for it to fall?
Unless Darian chose to be merciful. If he was the one to decide her fate, then there was hope that he would free her. It was a slim, fragile hope, but it was enough. Even if Darian didn’t free her, then maybe the fate he chose for her wouldn’t be so bad. She had to believe that, or there was no point in continuing on.
Heh. So that was the point. Hope could be cruel, when used as a weapon like this.
Jaime took a breath to calm herself down, or at least ready herself. As Bella said, there was a lot of work to be done. The sooner Young Mistress Vera went to this secret realm, the sooner she could meet her fate, whatever it was.
It was better than waiting around, wallowing in despair.