The blanket of ash that lay over Baphomet’s ruin thinned, giving way to grassy plains as Ashera trudged onward. She lacked the mana to run, as well as the patience to stop and recover her strength. The sun rose and set on her path, days blending into weeks, the further she marched from Ellin Forest the better she felt. Its leeching effect dwindling as her Soul Sphere left its confines. How many weeks had it been since her death? It didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was catching up to Lorelai.

I’ll kill her.

Her body had no need for food or water, a small boon that allowed her to cover ground faster than she ever had in life. When they had first trekked into Ellin forest they had taken over a month to get their wagons through its miring ash. Now it took her days to escape her new namesake, arriving at the Gin-Ger river. The name was a dwarven joke that she never understood, something to do with the excretions of Khachugin building Gerscav. Or had they called it the extrusions of Khachugin?

Ashera couldn’t care less.

Stripping naked she swam across the river –dead as she was– the icy mountain runoff did not trouble her in the slightest. Ash mingled with reactivated blood, the water washing away any evidence of her lost humanity and leaving behind a broken porcelain doll. An ash-covered woman would stand out in Juyoma, spurring questions regarding her origin. She considered bathing in the river, but it was a common trade route for barges journeying to Takioomi from Gerscav. Floating down the Gin-Ger river to the greater Biwako where they could travel to Nao or a tributary that led to Takioomi.

Logic intervened, Takioomi was conquered. A fallen city that exported sorrow or refugees that were somehow lucky enough to escape hell on earth. An increasingly common occurrence as the demonic legions crept across the continent. Trade diminished with every fallen city, fields went unplowed as men were thrown into the grinder of perpetual war, and demons infiltrated trade cities. Waiting for the day they could aid their allies by opening a locked gate or corrupting the right leader. Gerscav belonged to the dwarves, a race that could not mingle with the Seraphim and was thus declared ‘unworthy’ by the Inquisition. They would not risk trade with a corrupted city, not when it meant allowing demons a path to infiltrate their holds. They would batten down the hatches and eschew any vagrants along their path, meaning Ashera had nothing to fear, besides an unpleasantly dwarven side eye.

Let them look. She thought darkly.

So she took her time, examining the damage Lorelai had done to her and bandaging any open wounds. Her chest had to be padded and bound, stuffing her bra reminded her of the brothels back in Takioomi, –dens of lust she had been forced to hide in more often than she cared to admit– though her friends there were far more adept at the verbose –verbusty-- deception than she was. Her face came next, tying her hair back she considered trimming Lorelai’s hack job into something passable, only to stop when she realized any strand of hair she lost would be gone forever.

I’m going to go bald… That will be… inconvenient.

Bald women were considered unclean, plague carriers, or daughters of misfortune. They could seek relief from the Inquisition where happy endings were as common as executions, but that would require an interrogation –a trial that would reveal her undeath just as surely as if she ran streaking through the capital with a sword through her missing bosom. Without an inquisitorial pass she wouldn’t be able to enter any walled city or town that posted guards. Maybe she could use illusion magic to regrow hair? She had tried to give her hair more volume and virility with magic, but never to regrow it entirely.

Can healing magic grow undead hair?

After the pinky healing incident she was not about to try. Continuing with her cleansing she bandaged her hand, mouth, and eyes. Feeling like a burn victim with a few days left to live she tied her hair into the shortest ponytail of her life. Ashera’s hair had always been long and full, unlike Jude’s thin locks hers were full and messy… Jude…

Memories of her older sister brought her to the brink of tears. Jude had fallen, watching her die on the cross. No, Jude had enjoyed the crucifixion, the only atonement for her elder sister would be a swift death. An end to her malice before she could inflict her despair on other souls.

I’ll kill her, and set you free Jude.

A tingle of power set off warning bells in Ashera’s mind. Something was coming and it was far more powerful than she had ever been. Fear wrapped its clawed fingers around her heart. There was nowhere to hide, a few sparse trees grew along the rivers edge but she was sitting in the shallows, looking at her reflection in the water.

White mana spun in the air behind her, spinning into a gilded excretion disk. Golden silver magic could only mean one thing. Seraphim. One of the angels was opening a portal not twenty feet away from her. Ten mountains would not be enough to hide, so Ashera held still, hoping they would take pity on her or better yet, ignore her existence. The portal’s spinning slowed, solidifying into a circle that seemed to melt the air, opening into a mirror that displayed two figures.

The first figure stepped through the portal, a knight in armor so polished that he may as well have been a second sun whose presence made the dirt tremble in awe. River water flowed away from him, parting of its own accord to avoid hiding the Seraphim knight. A spear of blonde wood was in his right hand and a round shield covered in runes adorned his left arm. His glowing white eyes met Ashera’s gaze, twin gateways into the afterlife.

I can’t die here, I haven’t killed her yet.

His knuckles tightened on his spear as her thoughts reached him. He extended his shield hand, empty palm rising to eradicate Ashera from existence. She knew what would happen next because she had seen it before. Seraphim favored a form of white lightning as their offense spell, it was magic unique to the angels that seemed to test the morality of those struck by it. Any malice or sin would crack a spirit open, giving the lightning direct access to their soul and exterminating it. Dematerializing the incorporeal from this life and the afterlife. The knight’s hand aligned with Ashera’s torso.

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If you kill me, slay the succubus Lorelai Geruvah.

His face twisted into a grimace at the name, recognition dawning in his gold irises.

“Lower your eyes. Do not gaze upon my queen or offend her in any way or I will intervene.”

Every word was brimming with power, as if a legion of knight carried it on their spearpoints. The second figure stepped through the portal, a woman with sparkling green eyes, a dress to match her twin emeralds and a suppression collar around her neck. She made an arcane sigil with her hand to dismiss the portal, a casual gesture that made Ashera shiver at the impossibility.

Suppression collars were uncommon devices, they had originally been conceived as a way to imprison mages by limiting their ability to channel magic. A role they failed out of when heaven and hell began their war millenia ago, now the collars were commissioned artifacts. Used in special cases when a mage had to restrict their powers.

Movement on the Queen’s stomach pulled her eye and the Queen’s hand to where the baby had kicked. Her face, –no, her eyes, had been so luminously gorgeous that Ashera could not notice the baby bump until it moved. Instantly explaining the suppression collar with a shiver that blew ice through her vertebra.

The Queen did not wear the collar to suppress her own powers –that was only a minor side effect– she wore it to suppress the powers of her unborn infant. An antediluvian practice that only the grandest of immortal beings found necessary.

Ashera had never felt so outclassed, not as a mage or as a woman. She could feel the raw power of the beings in front of her, making her wonder if it would have been better to never be born than to face them here and now. Her Soul Sphere warned her not to look at the Queen, so she craned her neck forward, practically face planting into the river. The Queen laughed, a joyous sound that brought tears to Ashera’s eyes. Her heart beat with rapt bliss.

Have I been… She was scared to even think the word. Resurrected?

“Captain Liam, can’t you see you are scaring the poor girl. Give us some space. Us girls need to chat.”

“My Queen, please do not send me-”

“Did I stutter?” Asked the Queen, shooing away her knight with one hand.

Captain Liam –fuming– snapped a salute and marched perpendicular to the river. Running water parted for him, silent trees sizzled and evaporated in his wake, and loose loam compressed into stone under his greaves.

“I’ve been watching you since that prayer of yours, daughter of woe.” Looking down she saw Ashera’s face in the water. “Child, get out of the water and come chat with me.” Said the Queen, patting a nearby rock.

She sat on a second boulder several paces away, close enough that they could speak freely, yet far enough that they would not risk touching one another. A subtlety that was not lost on Ashera. She moved slowly, hesitantly obeying the Queen’s command. Who was this woman?

“Just this once you may call me by my name. Lily. I am wife to the Archon Uther. Oh and be sure to heed my words, if we meet again I’ll kill you.” The Queen smiled warmly as she spoke, as if they were sharing tea and cookies instead.

Gears spun in Ashera’s mind, syncing as she heard ‘Archon’. The spouse of the Seraphim’s High King was sitting across from her. Not five feet away from an undead sat the High Queen of Heaven.

“Titles like that are so pretentious, I’m no god and don’t you go about trying to make me into one. We only have a few moments to spare.”

What’s the rush?

“You are. If I stay here too long you’ll crumble into dust, a most undesirable end for the Lady of Ash.” Said the Queen, winking at her.

Uh… Yes, Lady Lily, uhm- how can I be of service?

The Queen’s grin took on a sly cant, a giggle escaping her lips at Ashera’s thought. “Seraphim do not demand service, we serve. You cried out to all angels and demons, myself included. Though, I would not be here if someone more crucial had not heard you first.” Her hand fell across her baby bump as she spoke.

You’re here because your… baby? Fetus? –you can’t be six months pregnant– heard my prayer? Thought Ashera, her incredulity twisting her undead face.

“Don’t overthink it, my son will inherit this world and for some reason he decided that the first person he would speak to is not his mother or father, but you… A broken saint of a dead god.” Said Lily, her tone turning so cold that Ashera’s beating heart froze once more. Riverwater chilled to cold sweat.

Did you kill Loki?

“Oh dear, you misunderstand. I meant metaphysically, Loki the god is dead, not the Loki you know.”

That doesn’t make any meta-sense! Eek, don’t get quippy with the High Queen of mother-fucking HEAVEN. Thought Ashera, trying to keep her thoughts internal.

Lily’s dimpled smile told her that no thought was private.

I’m sorry, how can I serv- uhhh, how can… you serve me? Thought Ashera, stuttering her thoughts.

Lily placed a hand on the suppression collar, mana flowed through it igniting the runes and making it glow with Heaven’s light. “Despite this collar I am plagued by visions of the future. Every night I am treated to the play of ten centuries. A thousand years of events that always end with my son’s death. Your suffering is not unique, you are but one of the millions of victims, but you are one of the rare beings who defy their fate. None of my visions showed you as the revenant you are now.” Lily started, squeezing her eyes shut abruptly as her baby kicked.

Her belly wiggled, moving more than Aleyander had at any point during Ashera’s eleven months with him. Though, what did Ashera expect? The High Queen of Heaven’s child would possess the power to level mountains with a sneeze.

“That may be true, but in every vision I see he always dies. I will not allow that. Which is why he led me to you.”

Me? I’m no one, a dead mage with a vendetta. Not god’s wet nurse!

“You’re certainly missing the equipment for that calling.” Said Lily, her relaxed gaze hiding the joke for an instant too long.

Uhm… Thought Ashera, working her jaw as she looked down at her bandages.

“I try, but Uther always says my humor is like a tsunami of cleavers-”

Ashera could only agree with the Archon.

“Hush you! No more pleasantries, just look at your hand.”

She glanced downward to see that her fingernails were discolored in a harlequin. As if they were metal losing their temper in a fire of coals.

“Listen, in hundreds of futures my son will lose his way three times, first when he discovers his heritage, second when he learns his nature, and thirdly when I lead him astray.”

Discovers his heritage, why keep it from him in the first place? Raise him yourself and prevent the future you see. You are the High Queen, if there was any malice in you the Archon would have rejected you. Raise your son as you see fit, teach him to be honest, and do not conceal your love for him.

“Your faith in me is comforting, if only it were as simple as you say. Indeed I am the High Queen, beacon to humanity and enemy of half the universe. Our enemies must kill me for him to survive. There is no future where I am allowed to raise him, in every vision I try to keep him safe he falters, digging his own grave alongside mine. Ten thousand visions, nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety nine deaths. A fate I know you can relate to.”

Ashera shivered, wanting to gag at the profane blasphemy she was hearing. Lily continued without missing a beat, voice tensing as time ran out.

“Naomi will raise him, and as one who has accepted her boon you will be bound to aid my son.”

Naomi? I’m not Naomi’s servant… A migraine slammed into Ashera’s mind, recoiling from the verboten knowledge as she came to know the Huntress’ first name.

Of course Lily is on a first name basis with the grandmother of humanity.

“Of course I am.” Said Lily, nonplused at the idea of name dropping primordial gods. “Now do you agree to my terms?”

Wasn’t sure I had a choice… Thoughts of Aleyander entered Ashera’s mind. Choice or not she could only answer in one way. Aleyander and Ephraim’s eyes compelled her from on high.

As you wish, I will aid your son.