Thunder rolled through the dark heavens as Rachel’s back rested against the tall parapet, her vision centered on the weeping clouds. Cahira casually made her way through the manor, checking up on her men while adding playful comments that the rugged pirates smoothly dismissed—Rachel figured the woman simply loved expressing her sexuality. However, the more straight-laced martial artist’s solemn thoughts were far from the gutters.
She frowned while comparing the divots beside the walkway, funneling the gathered liquid to expel it off the Dragon Turtle’s back. Izanami revealed an ominous truth of their lives that significantly impacted her family and the way she conceptualized her future. All the Hell Lord had to do was present facts and allow her to connect the dots—she didn’t even have to present an argument since the information alone drew a compelling conclusion.
Rachel’s left ear twitched with agitation, and she adjusted her fitted white, orange, and pink cut-out cross-shaped halter-top bikini; the rain pounding against her skin was only an absent thought in the back of her mind while glaring at the flashing lightning that streaked across the clouds.
The influence of various deities—and the entities beyond them— not to mention demons, Izanami’s impact alone on Wolfgang created the Seed expansion … the lunar goddesses nudging me along … and there’s Twilight; she’s the most concerning. All the ‘basic’ stuff too, like these Seeds … the Crystals … and all of the individual human interests…
A pulse ran from her soggy tail to the tips of her ears as a shiver ran through her bones. The moment The Oscillation occurred, Cerridwen analyzed the situation in an instant before coming to the conclusion that to achieve her goals, she needed me … needed my mind to develop in a way to grasp the scope of this battlefield.
Rachel’s tongue slid out to taste the salt on her full lips, swallowing the liquid that gathered in her mouth. Twilight knows Cerridwen’s goals and manipulations—so she acted as the puppeteer to connect Scarlet to my family … For all I know, the proximity of Scarlet to me and the various personality traits she had were a factor in Twilight selecting her.
I’m in the middle of a chaotic game, and every action I take will lead the people around me—my family—down a dangerous road. Cerridwen likely contrived events that connected me to Maria, which Twilight hijacked, bringing me into contact with Tom, putting me on a global scale to reach this moment…
Her fist tightened, pressing against the cold gray stone at her back as the rain weaved through her damp hair and down her neck. I’m not the only one being pulled along to get stronger as soon as possible, and while Cerridwen began this plan, it’s far outside of her control at this point … Twilight is the absolute puppet master.
Dammit! Rachel’s jaw locked, scowling at the sky. She wanted me to know … Was the Legend’s Quest a part of her plan to begin with, or was it Cerridwen’s, and she just utilized it?
The unnatural visage of Scarlet’s possessed image flashed across her mind as Rachel recalled her time with Twilight’s limited copy, her mocking and paramount demeanor like barbed hooks digging through her ears to ensnare her brain.
No … Am I reading too far into Cerridwen’s plan? Perhaps it was another deity that manipulated events for Selvaria, Ohan, Cahira, and Vasishtha to enter our party—sabotaging us—forcing us into an impossible situation that even Moongmor found challenging to support us through. Yet, Eostre brought the Flush and Coral Moons to help me, and Twilight saw it coming to give me advice on this very topic … Gods and Goddesses … All while placing herself in a superior position.
All deities aren’t equal, and Izanami explained that dimensional boundaries separate them on a power scale … This changes my entire life … my family’s life. I’m in a race against time, and Izanami hinted that all Seeds are not equal, which makes sense … Wolfgang’s program is flawed because it’s only good as its base ingredient.
Cahira exited the house, and Rachel took a deep breath to calm her agitation, pacifying her features; she’d come to a conclusion—there was really only one direction she could go, and she hated how easily she’d been played, yet that pride also came from Cerridwen’s Branch, or it had become a part of it as she enhanced it.
Head lowering, Rachel’s illuminated four-clover irises drifted to the curvy Pirate Queen as she nonchalantly made her way through the heavy storm. It’s ironic, really … Cerridwen and Twilight may have played me like a fiddle, but the goal was to make me aware of the higher game and bring me to the table … I’m indebted to them.
She wanted to scream at the checkmate position, yet it wouldn’t help.
The red-haired Irish woman gave her a half-smile while checking her braided hair; the gale and rain had already soaked her tight blue jeans and loose red shirt, forming an outline around her bra.
“Aye, heh—well, damn,” she mused, cupping her chin while looking her up and down, “I ‘aven’t be seein’ so much skin on ya, and here ya be lookin’ like ya jumped outta ah playboy cover.”
Strolling up the steps, the Irish Captain squinted at her through the haze, snickering as her gaze drifted between her slick bust and butt. “Be tryin’ ta steal away the hearts of mi crew, are ya? I won’t be goin’ down without a fight, ya ‘ear!”
Rachel chuckled, masking how she felt about the uncomfortable position they were in. “I’d rather not get my casual outfit wet, and it’s not like the chill bothers me.”
Cahira waved her hand dismissively, tone disappointed she wasn’t playing along. “Bah, I be messin’ with ya, but in all sobriety, heh—‘av been trackin’ ya as ye’ve been up—seem’d tense,” she said, raising her voice as thunder rolled around them, not that Rachel couldn’t hear. “Wanna join me fer a drink—loosen yer shoulders—maybe some straps?” she winked, gesturing back in the exact direction of Ohan.
Rachel sighed; every answer was sex with this woman—Maëlle was a classy tease while Cahira sat on the exact opposite side of the spectrum. “I’d love to have a drink—unfortunately, we need to have a meeting, but after, I’m all for a little alcohol,” strain entered her voice, “eh … minus your bedroom antics.”
Curiosity glinting in her green eyes, a low rumble shook Cahira’s throat. “Savin’ yerself fer yer fire-haired lad, huh? I can respect it!”
“Eh … sure,” Rachel laughed. “I just have so many other things in my mind all the time.”
Cahira’s grin faded as a blinding ray of electricity danced overhead, drawing her focus, and silence passed between them. After several seconds, Cahira ran her hand over her wet forehead. “Mmh … ‘A’ve never met a person so driven … It’s like ya be a machine.”
Rachel’s brain stilled on the comment. “A machine?” she whispered, solemnly holding a smile. “In a way … I suppose there is some truth to that.”
The sound of pattering raindrops filled the air as they looked into the void of swirling clouds, and after a time, Rachel walked past the Pirate Queen. “Just came to check up on me?”
Descending the stairs behind her, Cahira fanned out her soaked red shirt. “Kinda—damn it be a typhoon … Eh, ah also wanted ta let ya in on the spoils—heh, I heard a lot of lasses concerned ya turned into some frightenin’ demon, and it sorta made sense.”
Her ears flicked to the side, sending liquid flying as she slowed and turned around, eyebrows drawing together. “Why’s that?”
Cahira hissed, motioning for her to stop. “Hold up a moment … Mmh, they be tricky things,” she grumbled, giving her a searching stare while scratching the back of her neck.
It didn’t take her ears to see that the woman was nervous.
Rachel sighed, flexing her toes against the soft, evenly trimmed grass. “What’s the problem?”
Her gaze drifted to the side, left arm rubbing her right. “Eh … We got some items from completin’ the whole Hell thing, and … Yours unsettles mi stomach, but Tom be wantin’ ta talk to ya first before armin’ ya up, so … I’m in a rock and ah hard place…” she grumbled.
“Items?” Rachel repeated, left arm tightening under her chest as her right cupped her chin. “Hmm … Alright, I’ll if you’re uncomfortable, let’s hurry—the sooner I clear things up with Tom, the sooner you can get rid of whatever it is.”
“Aye!” Cahira wiped the rain from her brow and forced a smile. “Heh-he, yeh be an unpredictable one—’tis never a dull moment. Eh?”
Rachel leveled a smirk at the third-story second window; Tom stood in the dark room, brooding scowl on his face while studying them. “You have no idea.”
Tom worked around his jaw and went to the door, likely moving to meet her.
Proceeding inside, she willed her outfit to swap to her casual attire and was half surprised when it changed, radiating Nia’s standard pink, orange, and white hues. Her wet skin, which should have dampened her new garments, appeared utterly dry and immune to the water already clinging to her skin, ears, and hair.
Well, I suppose that settles it … Nia’s waterproof … yet she enjoys the washer and dryer.
While heading for the way up, she swapped back to her bikini to discover the water rejected from the cloth; confirmation assured, she returned to the skirt and blouse. Her grandmother’s emerald pendant settled between her breasts as the pink metal, double-cuff earring took its place on her left ear.
She passed various groups of children or teenagers that paused to stare at her, paying them no mind; only a small group of individuals would hear this explanation, and seeing what she’d put Grace through, the gunslinger deserved some information. Rising up the stairs, she met Tom in the 3rd-floor hallway, silently waiting for her to begin.
Rachel put a hand on her left hip, ears, and neck tilted to the right as she smirked. “Well, come to see if I’ve fallen prey to a devil?”
Tom grunted. “You can drop the act … Maria would have informed me if it was serious. Clearly, she trusts your judgment … How bad is it?”
She followed his focus to the stairs as children crept up to eavesdrop, hanging behind the corner; unknown to him, two other parties were listening behind the closed doors, having seen her enter through the front. “Meet me in the conference room—I’ll gather everyone needed.”
The general’s large chest puffed up and fell as he released a long breath. “I’ll wake Clay and draw a direct line to The President—he’s left orders to wake him when you’re ready to report … We should all be on the same page.”
Nodding, Rachel turned and left, soaked locks swaying behind her. She first went to the dining area to gather Scarlet, Fiona, Maria, Selvaria, Ohan, and an excited Nia; the Leviathan motioned for her pet seal to follow Cahira as she led the way. Nia nervously followed Scarlet out of the room, giving Rachel a happy wave; the girl was soaking up the attention. Grace was the last one that needed to be informed.
She watched them go, Galatea reminding her of her Lunar Buns and Phoenix. Lips tightening, Rachel glanced toward the large windows that displayed a garden patio for special events—it wasn’t the class she expected out of the Pirate Queen.
Figuring she needed to start rebuilding her reserves as soon as possible, Rachel summoned her buns, causing Nia’s ears and head to dart in her direction. However, her excitement about holding the four soon fell as Rachel bent down to stare at the black blob, insides sparking with red energy.
“Hmm…” Rubbing her head, she chuckled at her cute yet troublesome smile; the female bun’s essence was created from Yseress’s energy. “I think I’ll call you Persephone, and one day, you’ll be the ruler of the underworld,” she snickered.
As planned, Nia squealed at the comparison, likely drawing reference to the deity from Scarlet’s impression.
She explained her actions to Scarlet before Rachel snatched the girl's attention again, but this time in a gloomy way. “I’m going to need to convert your energy as soon as I can, so go find a place to soak up some moonlight.”
The buns gave her a salute with their ears before hopping away to find their way into the storm—it would take a while to see any light in the typhoon, but the sooner they could convert the white moon’s rays, the quicker she could rebuild her Lunar Pools.
Looking at a nearby painting of Cahira, striking a heroic pose on a ship, Rachel hummed. How soon until Gisele recovers … Eleven days? I suppose it's to be expected after busting Lunar Glory. Where’s her feather?
Rachel’s hand pressed against her breast—since it had been swept out of range, the item was nesting inside her—it would reappear an hour before the Lunar Phoenix’s rebirth.
Questions answered, she moved through a branching hallway to enter the study Grace, Benedict, Isabel, and Edelira were using. “Ah, Rachel…” Grace muttered, lips pulling in a tad. “Ya not gone full devil on us yet. Right? ‘Cause, gah, I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime, and I hope I never see that succubus again!”
Isabel lifted her hand in a short wave. “Hey, eh … Yeah, what’s up?”
Her twin cleared her throat, giving Benedict a thankful smile as he put his tiny hand atop her thumb, and she cleared up her cheeks; they’d been discussing memories of their deceased family. “Umm … I suppose you’ve heard about the damage … ahem, damage done to Camagüey and the surrounding provinces?”
Rachel nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The cowgirl caught Rachel’s focus on her and adjusted her hat. “Got business with me?”
“It shouldn’t take long.”
Twisting her hips left and right, several pops sounded from Grace’s lower back as she moaned; she stood to stretch out her stiff muscles—it seemed they’d been sitting for a while. “Okay—You three good?”
“Totally fine!” Benedict replied, but Rachel could feel the hesitation in his voice; the Cuban trio had suffered a major mental blow from all the events.
Grace gave them a small, reassuring smile. “You can tell me more about your Uncle Gasper when I get back.”
“Hmm-heh,” Isabel closed her eyes, fingers sliding through her thick black locks before scratching her scalp. “Thanks, Grace … you know, for listening—I know we’ve been a bit of a mess.”
Edelira retracted her hand to hug herself and shiver, careful of the small Pixie. “It’s … been nice having someone else to talk to.”
“I’ll be back soon…” Rachel saw the hesitation in Benedict’s face as they moved to the door—by his shifting muscles, the boy wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. Sadly, they left before he could express himself.
Closing the door behind them, Rachel led the way as he finally got a whisper out. “Izzy, Edel … Where do we belong now?”
Isabel held out her fingers for him to rest on, snuggling closer to her elder twin. “I don’t know, Ben … I don’t know…”
The three got into a solemn discussion soon after, trying to work through some complicated topics now that Grace had left—it didn’t seem like they wanted to return home, yet the thought of joining her put a quake through their frame—the experience changed them.
Silence ensued as Grace took up the rear, brown eyes studying her, and Rachel let the sound of the storm rage in the foreground. Her gaze drifted to each hallway as they made their way to the conference room; Clay had been alerted by radio and was making his way downstairs.
Not one child, woman, or man in the hushed mansion let them go without watching their passage; most were survivors of the hellscape, injured to the point it took two days for Maria to finish restoring their bodies. On the other hand, their minds wouldn’t recover so quickly.
Tom had brought three military psychologists in session with various groups, each discussing different experiences. Overall, the ordeal had been far greater than the man had anticipated, and the humanitarian aid was pouring in from the short whispered conversations a few children had.
No one appeared to be over the hushed phase, jumping at the sounds of the storm while coping with the memories of insectoid demons scurrying under their feet, flying in the air, or crawling through their walls. To some, mutters about nightmares and rambling gibberish marked their self-imposed solitary confinement, unable to hope that this wasn’t some horrifying torture to spark hope in their hearts again.
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Rachel’s heart wasn’t immune to compassion, but she compartmentalized it to handle what needed to be done; everything depended on how Tom and the President took the news she brought.
Twisting the knob to enter the decent-sized room, she let Grace close it, taking her place at the back of the area, where everyone faced. Nia sat on the edge of her seat, trying not to bounce as everyone gave Rachel somber looks, waiting for what they’d already determined was grim tidings.
She waited thirty more seconds, keeping a loose posture to lessen the group’s agitation, and once Clay found his seat beside Maria and Tom, Rachel's weighted voice became the only sound. A TV was in the corner of the room, showing President Capell’s calm and collected expression, folded hands resting against his mouth as he waited for the report.
“You’ve all heard Scarlet’s story about a female Devil and me being possessed…” The chilled temperature in the room reflected a funeral service while scanning the grave creases on the gathering’s faces as she continued. “I won’t hide it from you … I made a deal with a Hell Lord that opposes Abraxas, and it was by becoming an equal partner with her and the master of one of her slaves, a half-human Devil named Yseress, that I was able to shape this outcome.”
Nia’s hushed voice broke in. “She’s actually pretty nice … Kind of…”
Rachel watched the girl flinch as everyone turned their attention to her, making the Living Denier rabbit’s ears fold back.
Retaking the conversation, Rachel cleared her throat. “Allow me to explain in full before you ask questions—Tom, Clay, President Capell, if you could write notes if anything comes to mind.”
After they nodded and Scarlet snatched a pencil and paper Cahira extracted out of a cabinet, passing the military-provided items around, Rachel continued. “The Hell Lord’s name is Izanami—a being very similar to the Japanese goddess of creation that was killed in childbirth and sent to Hell.”
Eyes narrowing, Rachel made her voice sharp and clear. “Make no mistake, she is a Fallen Deity and a true Hell Lord; I don’t think anyone here will question the merits of what I’m saying—this is more than what we speculated on the Legend’s Quest. I’ve had direct contact with multiple beings beyond my ability to accurately describe … Far more powerful than anything we have to contend with.”
When no one interjected, she went on, watching Tom, Clay, and the President write on the paper in front of them. “Hell, gods—creatures even above them are trying to use The Oscillation to their advantage … Yes,” she said at the hard look Tom gave her, “‘some’ of the Seeds that we’ve gained from The Oscillation can outstrip even creatures that claim to be from a seventh-dimensional plane.”
“I don’t know exactly what that means in terms of actual tactical data on power-scaling,” Rachel sighed, “but Izanami has told me about several deities interfering around us so far and made references that they are not quite as strong as she was at her prime, yet given her current state, she is heavily restricted.”
Gesturing to a nervous Nia, Rachel took a deep breath. “Nia, you remember Eostre and Moongmor?”
Nia swiftly nodded. “Mhm! Mhm! Eostre was so pretty, and I wanted to hold Moon-Moon in my arms and pet him!” she added in all seriousness. “He was so colorful and cute, and happy! Umm … I-Izanami was … was really scary…”
Rachel restrained a shiver by folding her arms, damp ears falling forward a tad. “There are a few Lunar Deities that have manipulated me … Our meeting, Tom,” she said, eyeing the tight-lipped military man. “The Crystals, the deities, The Oscillation, and the rest of the powerful entities converging on our planet are connected—however, the gods aren’t the cause—so far as I can tell, The Oscillation was the catalyst given to us to combat The Crystals—a balancing force.”
Again, more writing occurred.
She paused, allowing them time to jot down their thoughts. “Hmm … Izanami cannot lie to me. The deal we struck was sealed by one of the Lunar Deities, and it’s pointless for me to even doubt the validity of it so much as it is I can doubt my ability to think.”
Clay and Tom scratched an item off their list, rumbles in their throats.
“Ultimately, it doesn’t matter who these goddesses are … What does matter is they’re not alone. Various factions seem to be working amongst specific, powerful Demi in order to build us up to the point they can fight us for our Seed—it is only transferable—mmh, maybe a better word would be compatible—after we reach their dimensional level.”
She nodded at the President’s grimace, mirrored by Maria, Clay, Tom, and Ohan. “Yes, the importance of this is that we’re not just at war with the Crystal intruders, but these entities, individual Demi following their whispers, and the manipulations they whisper across the nations of the world.”
Rachel let the news sink in for a moment, everyone’s gaze on the table in front of them, and after several seconds, shook her head. “No matter how I do the math, if we don’t take their help, we’ll fall behind—the hellscape we just left is proof of that … Even that advanced Legend’s Quest barely prepared us for this, and I’m not saying that in itself was random.”
The Pirate Queen’s fists tightened against her thighs, a lump dropping down her throat as she thought on her words.
“Yes, Cahira, I don’t think your addition to our party, including Selvaria, Ohan, and Vasishtha, were accidents. My Lunar Deities used it to their advantage, but someone is behind the four of you that drew us together.”
“Ya don’t know who?” Cahira whispered, her vision on her lap.
Selvaria sighed. “I hope they’re good.”
“No … Not right now, at least, but I’m sure it was meant to try and form some kind of alliance—or force one. In any case, again, it doesn’t matter in the end but paints a picture of the overall board, but there’s a silver lining.”
“What?” Tom hissed, hands white as he put pressure against the table, mind likely spinning to find a tactical solution—aliens were one thing, but dimensional transcendent gods were a whole different ball game. “The Seeds?”
“A long term solution,” Rachel nodded, “but Izanami explained to me that—for whatever universal law or reason—some of these Seeds can make what she calls ‘singular existences,’ which basically means they warp the fabric of reality, or something similar, and even Izanami cannot see this timeline’s future because of it.”
“I see,” a strained grin split Tom’s lips. “So, even the gods are blind … I assume they can still project and plan, though … And they get in each other’s way?”
“Correct,” Rachel confirmed, shifting her weight to the opposite hip. “Izanami and I are bound together through Yseress … She grants me a link to use Lunar Hell Energy; although, as Maria can attest, it’s very harmful to me … I need to slowly adapt to it over time.”
Maria snorted. “Harmful? You’re joking! Your spirit was being corrupted, Rachel—you weren’t dying—I think it was turning you into an actual devil.”
“For real?” Scarlet squeaked, big eyes darting to her out of concern. “Over time…”
She swiftly retook command of the conversation. “No—so long as I keep it under a certain level … Hmm.” Rachel closed her eyes and rubbed her left temple. “My ability to recover is reflected by how long I use Yseress’s powers. I know how I react to it now—what happened before won’t happen again.”
Before anyone else could butt in, she pushed forward, trying to get the discussion over. “We have leeway because of me, but Wolfgang’s dream of a utopia was flawed from the start—Izanami didn’t come out and say it, but she strongly alluded to the idea that not all Seeds are created equal … or can bond equally to their host. These deities are only interested in those that can.”
Straightening her back, Rachel scratched her neck, glaring at the wall. “Tom, we need to prepare for a trip to the U.K. after this—the giant tree that’s there can transport us to a higher dimension to get proper answers and for Fiona, Maria, Selvaria, and everyone else to find a powerful entity to support them…”
Tom’s deep chuckles drew everyone’s gaze as he studied her. “Rachel … If I didn’t know how much you hate something like this, I’d be far more concerned by what you’ve told us. How do you really feel?”
Rachel’s fists slowly knotted, and she took a slow, calming breath before she answered; her jaw tightened, forcing her to pry it open as the heat rose in her breast. “I’m pissed…” she snarled. “Hmm-hmgh … What agitates me the most is that I was manipulated down this path from the start … Meeting Scarlet, Maria … so many events and changes to me … my own personality has slight deviations I’m slowly picking apart every time I think about it.”
Her cold eyes centered on the general. “I’m indebted to these goddesses—despite the conflicted emotions in my chest—I can’t deny that they have helped … In so many ways, yet it doesn’t change the fact I was played like a puppet, which, heh, is also in their calculations.”
“Rachel…” Scarlet whispered, clearly wanting to help her and not knowing how.
She turned away, taking in a long draw of air to ease her thumping heart before releasing it. “I want answers … These goddesses of mine want to be partners, and Izanami has injected herself between them. We’ll have other nations that have their own godly help, which means we need to stay ahead of the curve.”
Still feeling the sting of being a pawn, likely influenced by not only Lunar Pride but Yseress’s pained heart at being thrown away, leaking into her, Rachel fought past the discomfort. “We need to start making preparations now to go to the U.K.—get permission from their government, or whatever it takes since I’m guessing not just anyone will be able to hang around that massive tree.
“In addition,” her focus drifted to Selvaria, making her sit straighter. “I suspect we need a Legendkin artisan to craft the keys required to open a divine gate—I have the crystals from the Legend’s Quest that will provide the base material.”
Tom crossed most of the things off his list, either not essential to discuss, or he’d found his answer from her speech. “In short, The President will deliberate on how this information should be used for the nation and prepare negotiations with the U.K.
“In the meantime, I’ll task Clay with searching our databank on Demi for a list of artificers to narrow down a possible candidate to bring into the operation—of course, I’ll have you vet them since you are the key to all of this,” he assured, receiving a nod from the dark-skinned man next to him.
The general paused, vision shifting to the U.S. President as something passed between their stare. “For now, I’ll go over the details in greater focus with you as we arrange everything to crush the final pieces holding Cuba hostage … Is that acceptable, Rachel?”
Having one of the most powerful men in the world ask her helped her wounded pride. “I can do that—however, I ask that when we return, you allow my family to be the first to receive a Seed from the twins.”
Scarlet’s eyes lit up at the news, overjoyed for Alexa’s wish to be granted so soon, but Tom sat back with a frown, pondering the request; of course, Maria’s presence helped to convince him of the words she spoke, knowing the Sunlit Unicorn would balk at any lie. “Hmm … Didn’t you say these Seeds are inferior?”
“I’m guessing they are from the cryptic message of a Hell Lord,” Rachel groaned, running a hand through her damp locks. “Quality could be dependent on the individual, the twin with the replicated Seed, or possibly the original has a stronger nature—there are a lot of ways to interpret her words, and certain things she cannot say because Eostre didn’t want it divulged so soon—conceivably because it might change our perception … maybe.”
President Capell grunted. “Enough to pull us forward but enough to make us cautious … I’m thankful for the aid you’ve given your country when you were called upon, Rachel—and I know there is an incentive, but you are here, nonetheless. I have a lot to think about; I need to decide how to water this down for the Pentagon. Tom, have a detailed report for me in the next two hours.”
“Sir!”
He cleared his throat, giving Rachel a long stare. “Mmh … Tom, I’ll approve her request, but I can’t hold off your group’s psyche evaluation once you’re finished with this mission. Congress and the Senate have tied my hands.”
Breathing a long sigh, she accepted the eventual meeting with the doctors she’d met what seemed ages ago. “I understand.”
She was a little surprised as he promptly cut the feed, yet given the short heave he made before it ended, she assumed it was to vomit; between the images he’d been shown of Camagüey and the possibility of that coming to the nation under his watch must have been an enormous amount of pressure, and now she’d added gods and Hell Lords to the mix.
Turning to her friends after the political leader left, her party revealed that Vasishtha had infiltrated one of the main factions that controlled a chunk of Havana and its surrounding provinces, and he’d be reporting soon, yet before that could happen, Cahira was bouncing on her toes to unveil her unique ability’s reward.
Rachel settled down with everyone else, including Tom, who seemed just as curious as the rest to see how she’d react. Keeping her expectations in check, Rachel could feel her heart thumping—the last time the Pirate Queen’s Passive gave her a gift, it had been Nia and powerful lunar crystals.
A short hiss passed through her teeth as the snickering, sharp-eyed woman gestured to the table for blue flames to expose the items—a pair of black demon-hooved boots with Hellfire heels, showing red sparks of electricity down their blazing length.
Rachel took the full outfit in with narrowed eyes following the barbs that shot out of the boots’ back; it would tear and penetrate anything she kicked, and given the devil’s flame lacing the spikes, they’d leave quite an aftertaste in her opponent’s mouth.
“Oh! My! Goodness!” Nia cried, jumping onto the table to pick one up and study it. “I love it! I love it! I’ll make it a part of the outfit ASAP!”
“Well,” Cahira mused, eyeing her. “What be yer thoughts on the those lil’ beasties?”
Rachel hadn’t missed the indication, lips pulled in as she watched the Living Denier fawn over the boots. “Honestly, I wonder how they’ll react to walking on the carpet…” she grunted, staring at the burning heels.
Maria leaned forward, arms crossed across the table. “Heh, aye, what’d I say, Scarlet—Rachel’s the practical type; extra twenty in the bank!”
“Aww,” Scarlet shot a light glare her way. “C’mon, I thought you’d be totally like Nia…”
“Pfft!” Nia smirked, colorful eyes drifting to Rachel. “Her? Please, I’m totally the fun one—all Rachel thinks about is the best way to kick someone’s face in.”
Giving the girl a shrug, Rachel returned the smile. “Mhm, and who’s the one that was freaking out about the washer and dryer before finding out it was like a roller coaster? Of which, you’ve never been on one, by the way, and besides, you’re waterproof.”
Nia’s face turned bright red. “H-Hey! Besties aren't supposed to say that stuff! And, eh, of course I’m waterproof … You never asked,” she grumbled, returning her attention back to the boots. “Erm … thanks, Cahira … I love them!”
Knowing she was trying to pull everyone’s attention away from her embarrassment, even if she shouldn’t be, Rachel’s chest shook with laughter; teasing the girl did improve her spirits, and it wasn’t like it was difficult. “Considering they’re not burning up the table—knowing what it is—I suppose it has some kind of safety mechanic. Thanks, Cahira.”
Maria nudged the Pirate Queen. “Aye, show her mine!”
“Hmm?” Rachel leaned forward, intertwined fingers resting under her chin as she waited; since Cahira had them in storage and the woman wasn’t wearing them, she figured the gangster wanted to surprise her, as well—it was show and tell time.
More blue flames formed into a pair of white-hooved boots.
“Unicorn-themed, huh?” Rachel asked, watching brilliant white light mold into its heels as the white luster of the leather shimmered. “Pretty cool.”
“I mean,” Maria shrugged, trying to play it off. “They’re cool, I guess—not really my style, but at least it does match the tail and ears stuff—not that I wanna look like a horse…”
“Of course not,” Rachel chuckled. “So, I got some battle boots from Hell, huh?” Her curious clover-eyes drifted to the cat-smiling pirate. “Why do I get the feeling you’re saving something for last?”
Her inquisitive stare turned to suspicion when a secretive smile spread among the room’s occupants, and Cahira’s half-smile twitched while snapping her fingers to divulge the final artifact. “Heh, so, what do ya think? Now, what would Anthony think about ya with this, huh?”
Rachel’s jaw and muscles tightened as the blue flames dissipated, and Nia’s eyes became saucers. These girls would love to see me in something like this … Overall, it’s not terrible; far better than how Nia first looked, but … Mmh, why do I think this is intentional by Yseress?
“Ehh?” Nia gasped, ears mischievously falling forward as she directed an impish gleam in her direction. “Oh—should I add this to our battle outfit—would Big Sis approve?”
Another sharp hiss passed through Rachel’s teeth, eyes closing while everyone giggled. “Let’s not go down this path all of you are thinking—I don’t even know how to use that weapon … Thank you, Cahira, and Nia, I’m going to have to think about this because as far as I’m aware, it’s a Set. Correct?”
“Not gonna look at the powers it's got, huh?” Maria hummed, trying to hide her slightly red cheeks while looking at the primary item that averted Rachel. “We don’t know since it’s yours, but uh—who knows. Right? I can see it, he-he.”
Rachel puffed out a long breath, vision opening to settle on her gift—Cahira’s comment about Anthony told her everything she needed to know about how everyone else saw it. “Can you all get your minds out of the gutter … Of course, I’ll keep it … After all, I kept Nia.”
“Wait?! W-What’s wrong with me?” Nia choked.
“Nothing,” she smirked, “but why does everything I get not compliment my style … at all—not that this is terrible—I’ve seen far worse around Miami…”
Tone bright, Scarlet jumped in. “Uh, eh-heh, have you ever considered this ‘might’ actually be the style you like? I’m just saying!”
“Mgmgh-hm-hmm,” Rachel shook her head. “Nice try, Scarlet.”
Attempting to put the thought in the back of her mind, Rachel grimaced as Nia took the items, giggling while running out of the room. “Big Sis is gonna love them!”
It’s totally Nia’s style, mixed with Yseress, I bet … Gah, maybe Cahira’s ability is cursed … Moongmor? Maybe…
She dismissed the jabs everyone made, getting back into the details of the serious situation they were in; changing locations to sit beside Tom, she buckled in to get into some of the finer details down.
Selvaria, Galatea, and Scarlet went to hang out with Nia with what time they had, the three expressing their relief that she was doing better; Rachel was more than willing to move beyond her new Set pieces considering what was on her mind, but secretly, she couldn’t deny she’d look good in it, despite the two questionable additions.
Redirecting her mind, she helped the general write everything down, answering what questions she could from the remaining group, much of which was about her personal safety.
* * *
A shudder quivered through Anthony’s muscles with every step he took—running, walking, standing still—no direction or waiting helped to ease the foolish and enlightened visage of the mass surrounding him in the elongated hall. Time was meaningless, yet when he turned around, he wondered if it was really the way he’d come; hooks eased into his mind, drawing him in whenever his numb legs faltered—a ruinous melody that whispered visions of hidden futures and innumerable paths.
He paused as one of the wooden doors pulled open, releasing a mesmerizing torrent of shimmering fog; he stumbled inside.
Nora’s long, cheetah tail swayed in a spellbinding motion as she stared out of an open window, hidden behind her gradient yellow and black locks—no one else could be seen but the narrow way that had opened up, leading to the seventeen-year-old girl. However, the voice that compressed his withering soul forced his spear from his hands, ice shooting through his veins.
Low, clicking roars that drifted to him on wonton clouds—a whisper in a gentle breeze—hovered just below the surface of Nora’s solemn and haunting voice … The Harbinger spoke. “You wish to save this vessel, yet she teems with the resonance of the Mecroaf—hums seep into your hollow mind, drawing you to the harrowing abyss to await her…”
A monstrous, gnawing inflection came between the words, sinking into his skin to fracture his bones; brittle psyche cracking as a coiling mass weaved through his chest, making Anthony forget how to breathe.
“Nora is the specter’s scar, so pure—a holy horror—a glimpse of obscurity … Are you strong enough to transcend the summoned guise; alas, what is courage to The Sinking Deep?”
Paralyzing tendrils wove around through his marrow as the floorboards left his feet—he fell into the liquid mist—the source of untold fear shifting around him as The Harbinger in Nora’s form faded in the distance.
“Uncover the keys to the unknown and unlock the veil—learn from the lost what awaits you in the dark to entreat the forbidden realm of dreams, and pay the cost of a soul’s entry beyond the wall of sleep…”