Cassandra Pendragon
"Sit. Watch."
"It's entirely black in here," Reia immediately retorted. "What am I supposed to watch? The inside of my eyelids? We could have done that up there." I heard the air move when she gesticulated towards the distant ceiling.
"Honestly, was I ever that bad," I asked the dryad at my side.
"No… you were far worse. If it had been you, you'd have long since gone exploring and probably managed to almost drown yourself along the way." Greta snapped her fingers which turned Reia's muttering and Lamia's anxious silence into genuine exclamations of amazement. And I couldn't fault them. Even though I had known what was coming I still felt a shiver run down my spine when the world of magic, water and life began to glow with its own, scintillating light.
The cave underneath Greta's trunk hadn't changed much since the last time I had been down here, but, like everything else, it had grown to gigantic proportions. The erstwhile serene pond had turned into a sea, the swirling waves reaching almost farther than my eyes could follow. Dancing lights rose and fell beneath the surface and filled the cavern with a gentle, soothing glow. The sound of running water and growing trees permeated the air and a fresh, invigorating smell, almost like cut grass and ground acorns, tickled my nose. Gnarly walls, made of Greta's living trunk, towered over us, sloping towards the barely visible ceiling far above our heads.
The strip of land between the waters and the walls was chock full of plants I had never seen before, their multicoloured blossoms, strangely shaped fruits and shimmering leaves a constant reminder that this was a place of magic and nature, not of civilisation. Sometimes I thought I recognised a shape or a smell, but as soon as I focused more closely the illusion shattered. A bush that looked like it carried currants was actually a young tree with leaves that resembled fern, a towering oak carried silver oranges and a small, crooked olive tree was hung with red and green apples, swinging mesmerisingly to the tune of running water.
I whistled softly through my teeth, my eyes still darting from left to right while the taste of this underground sanctuary filled my lungs. "You've been busy," I mumbled, but Greta shook her head.
"Not really. Even though most of the magic you sent my way was already tied to a purpose, a small part of it was just along for the ride. If I hadn't channeled it somewhere it'd have burned me. That's simply how it turned out. Don't ask me where the seeds have come from, though. Those plants aren't connected to me. Come to think of it, chances are that each and every single one of them will spawn a dryad in their own right once they've matured. Something else to look forward to," she added, groaning.
"I always thought you enjoyed being a teacher," I asked with genuine curiosity.
"I do," she shrugged, "but I prefer to pick my pupils. Who knows, maybe the lot of them will turn out as bad as you."
"I believe I've done quite well, considering the hand I've been dealt," I harrumphed. "Thank you very much. Well then, shall we?"
"Same as before," the dryad asked, but I shook my head.
"I won't enter the water myself. Reia and Lamia will go."
"And how do you plan on stepping in when I screw up," Reia flared up, her already pale complexion slowly approaching the colour of freshly fallen snow. She was scared. Good.
"If… if you screw up. Simple. Don't. Truth be told, I don't think you can. Not after everything you've already done."
"And if you're wrong," the vixen turned angel asked quietly… anxiously.
"I won't let anything happen to you… or her. I've already put much too much work into you to let you take the easy way out." With a raised eyebrow I turned away from the glowing ocean and focused on the two frightened girls. "Shouldn't she be asking these questions?"
"She would," Reia replied, her voice about half an octave higher than usual, "if you could maybe veil your aura again. I'm an angel, too, and I can hardly breathe." I bit my lip and immediately sealed my core again. Ever since we had come down here my magic had started to swell without me realising.
"Sorry. Better?" They both nodded and Lamia took a hesitant step towards me. She never left the comforting embrace of Reia's tails, though, a detail I picked up on all too clearly. Damn it.
"I…. before everything else there's a question I want to ask you. May I?"
"Shoot. I won't lie, but maybe I won't answer, either."
"Fair enough. Why?"
"I get that a lot. Could you be a bit more specific?"
"Why not simply seal my magic? I know you could. I've felt it. Why all…" she gesticulated helplessly, "of this?"
"First off," I chuckled, "I like to show off. Secondly. Look, I know how… cheesy this sounds, but I can see you for what you are. There aren't many things that can still impress me, but a young girl that kept her kindness alive while the world around her turned into a hellhole of violence and cruelty… even if my sister hadn't… if she wasn't… oh, for god's sake. Why does it even matter?"
"Because the world isn't nice. And when something good happens… it's usually for a reason. I…"
"You're afraid," I finished her sentence, "but I think I know how I can assuage your fears. I promise, I have no ulterior motives. I genuinely want to help you and there are no strings attached." I had thought I had known what my promises caused. It turned out I had been wrong.
Up until now my oaths had been bound to me and my inherent power had made the world recognise them for what they were. A promise never to be broken. Now, though, it was different. My core resonated with the very souls around me, especially the one I had made the promise to. Lamia raised her head, her eyes finally meeting mine openly and for a fractured, but almost infinite moment there was something between us that would never again be taken away. Truth.
My promise didn't allow me to hide and under the transcendent pressure neither could she. I felt my wings elongate as they swirled around me, drawing the sparkling silhouette of a towering fox around my figure while a shadow of her haunted past rose around her in swaths of dark, foreboding shadows.
"That's a good start," I whispered and raised my hand, my fingers veiled by a silvery blue glare. With a flick of my wrist the shadows dispersed and the overwhelmed and underfed phoenix simply fainted. Luckily her tailed guardian was a wee bit faster on the uptake than I had been at her age and caught her before she could hit the, admittedly soft and mossy, ground.
"What have you done," Reia asked tiredly while she brushed a strand of hair form Lamia's cheek. Great… she hadn't been an immortal for more than a day and she already sounded old.
"Nothing. Well, nothing bad. I'm not sure… she's a blighted. Her magic feeds on whatever it can get its hands on and that girl has been to hell and back twice over. Maybe some of her magic fed on her pain and became separated, maybe the scar her father left her with opened again under the pressure of my power… I honestly don't know, but I do know that she's looking much better now than she did a minute ago." Metaphorically. She was still dirty, emaciated and generally in poor condition, but there was no denying that she slept soundly, her fingers still buried in Reia's fur.
"She is looking better, isn't she," the angel replied quietly while she scrutinised Lamia's face with a caring intensity that seemed utterly out of place on the face of a young girl. Even the backdrop sounds of running water the smell of sweet blossoms fitted right in. I could only sigh.
After several seconds she raised her head and asked: "what now?" I shrugged.
"Strip and get in. Take her with you. Once she's submerged I'll nudge you in the right direction."
"And how are you going to do that," my sister asked while she carefully placed the phoenix on the ground and slipped out of her garments. Much less carefully if the sound of tearing cloth was any indication.
"Forcefully. I'm sure Sarai could have done much more, but you wanted me and that's what you're going to get. A light touch isn't my forte. But I'll get you there, in the end, even if I have to drag you all the way." I knew there was a message in there somewhere when she didn't even slow down and took everything I had said in stride. For the fraction of a second I was touched by her sincerity until she said:
"As if. What are you really going to do?" I deflated. So much for romantic gestures.
"What I've said. Except without the dragging your screaming and kicking arse along. It's not difficult." This time it was Greta who interrupted me when she couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Something funny," I added, disgruntled.
"You… watching the two of you, especially you trying to explain magic, it's just hilarious. It's not difficult my formerly wrinkled ass. It shouldn't even be possible, but I guess sprouting wings comes with a few perks. Can I take over now? It's going to spare us all quite a bit of grief down the line." I smirked. I knew there had been a good reason to bring her along.
"By all means. If you think you know what you're doing…" she snorted.
"Neither do you, but that's never stopped you before. Besides I didn't mean to replace you, but I think the explanations should be delivered by someone who has at least an inkling of what's going on." I did have an inkling, or maybe a vague idea. Just for the record. But I wasn't conceited enough to argue the point. There was no denying that Greta knew a tad bit more than me when it came to the intricacies of spell craft. And, truth be told, I was also curious what she actually had to say. Lilith or Sarai could probably have given an even better explanation, provided they could have been persuaded to stop laughing long enough once the mighty Lightbringer had had to ask for help. Which was why I hadn't immediately gone to them. Don't ask me why, but begging my sisters for anything seemed… wrong. Greta taking the Mickey out of me was much preferable.
With a voice that reminded me so much of how she had sounded underneath Boseiju's roots that I inadvertently ducked the dryad began: "the metaphor isn't far off. Your friend is hurt, fundamentally so. To make her whole again you'll have to tear open the wound and reseal it properly. The second part shouldn't be to difficult. She's a phoenix. Her magic, her body, they want to live. If we can provided enough energy, which won't be a problem, she'll come together nicely all by her lonesome. The trick is gong to be to reopen the scar without…"
"Hurting her," Reia interjected while she waddled towards the pond, her precious burden pressed tightly against her mid. "A good thing she's unconscious."
"I was going to say kill her," the dryad continued with a shrug, "but if it makes you feel any better let's go with hurt." Silence settled and Reia froze on the spot.
"Kill her," she echoed softly.
"What did you expect? Her wounds are an integral part of her. You'll have to cut them out, for want of a better word, to make space for something new, something healthy. In other words you'll have to make her body forget what it has grown into so it can heal itself properly. And yeah, that's devilishly dangerous. Not to worry, though, between your sister and me we should be able to get her through this."
"Should?" By now the vixen sounded even more anxious than she had been when she had nearly faltered under my pressure.
"There are no guarantees," I interrupted. "That's why I want you to do it yourself. Knowledge and power won't ensure the outcome. The bond between you two on the other hand…"
"I see." She squared her shoulder and took another hesitant step, but when her toes touched the glowing waters she paused again. Without turning around she asked: "and what if we fail?"
"The girl will…" Greta began, but I cut her off:
"We won't. You won't. Trust me. In the last months I've seen and created more impossible magic than should be allowed. I know what I'm talking about. It won't be pretty and it might become a tad more demanding than we expect, but you're going to pull through. She'll pull through."
"Promise," I could barely catch her whisper.
"Yes, goddamn it, I promise. Satisfied?" Another thing I learned that very moment: my promises to another immortal had also changed. They had become quite similar to a leash the holder could pull on. In this case, Reia was even able to protect me from the consequences of breaking my word. The promise was hers to control. Not that it mattered now, I wouldn't have allowed Lamia to suffer either way, but it also meant I wasn't going to promise any one of my siblings anything anymore, with the exception of Reia and Ahri.
The little winged devil felt it as well and with a pinched smile she replied: "more than." The shimmering waters sloshed quietly against her slender claves when she finally found her courage and took another handful of steps. "Are you sure you don't want to join us? Just to be safe?" I shook my head.
"Actions have consequences, Reia. This is me, taking a step back. If I became involved directly, your magic wouldn't stand a chance against mine. In the future, maybe, but now…"
"Are you honestly telling me that it'll make a difference from where you channel your powers," she asked incredulously.
"More or less. Like I said, what we do is often more important than the spells we use. You're right, whether I cast my magic from here or there shouldn't make a difference… but it does. Maybe it's only because of what I believe or think… maybe it's because that's just how creation works. Will, intent, magic and the ways they work are interconnected, are more convoluted than you know… hells, more convoluted than even I know. Now we're going full circle, but it's also the reason why you're going to succeed where I'd fail, even though you might struggle quite a bit more than me in the process." She paused and pondered, before she exclaimed in a rush:
"I… is that also why you're always in the thick of it, whatever happens?"
"I'm getting better, am I not," I chuckled, "but yes. Choices matter…"
"Just look at me," the dryad added. "I'm the living example. What I've done… there should be no coming back from that. I was flayed by transcendent forces. Lucifer's own power. But still I did. Admittedly, it took the help of an immortal and years and years of preparation, but if I hadn't actually been prepared to die for Cassandra that night I wouldn't have been able to keep the dispersing strands of my soul together. That, more than anything else, allowed me to return."