Iratus had spent the last while at Phillipa's side, wearing the same jewel as the pretend queen. She had held him on a leash, and he had let her believe that she was in control. It was simple, her sapphire had been the slightest bit darker than his but she had already descended. And now..
Well. Now it was time for Iratus to wear the darker jewel.
It was time to show the priestess what her consort was truly made of.
He had no intention of hiding himself right now, it was important for the darkness to see he had no fear of it. That he was willing to embrace whatever he was given. He could see just how much control he had over his appearance as the priestess looked at him, instantly seeing the beast in his eyes and shying away from him as he stepped through the doors.
The offering was a whirl as he remembered so many of the things he had done with his sapphire. So much pain had been inflicted and so many screams pealed through the air at the end of the sapphire. But the red brough new ideas to the demented brain that were new and would create vibrations through the air that he would be able to feel at his core.
Then the gray.
It felt good and right and Iratus knew that this is where he was meant to terrorize the weaklings of Dhemlan. At this level, no one could challenge him and he would go unstopped. Everything about the level of the gray made him smile. He wasn't very deep in the gray but that wouldn't matter. He could still do incredible things at that level.
When he finally tilted the two jewels from the cup at dawn, he grinned and headed outside, the priestess following him everystep of the way. Once outside, he used his gray to sense the jewels around him. He started at the bottom, at the white and found all of the weaklings at that level. He did the same with every level up until he reached the sapphire.
He was slightly concerned. There shouldn't have been anything above that level but he sensed one other jewel darker than Phillipa but lighter than himself. A red. The anger in him swelled a little. There had been someone stronger than him and he had never known which meant it was probably a black widow.
The priestess sensed the rise in him and quickly went back into the altar. He needed to unleash some of his anger at being dooped and unleashed it on the little priestess who had been incharge of saying goodbye to those who had come. He sent the gray to her mind, burning through her jewels and mind in a second before going to rest.
He was going to have to find this red and see who he was dealing with.
'Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.[TCZ]Dhemlanese,22,30,[/TCZ]
Zara had woken up before the sun had risen. Even before fully awake, she felt restless a certain pull she could not quite explain. Though she was also relieved to have finally returned into her normal sleep pattern it seemed. She swung her legs from the bed and stretched. She smiled as she felt the soft soreness of her muscles. It had indeed been a while since she had done a dive and it felt in her muscles. It was a good feeling. It told her, she had done it and survived it – once again.
Her mind lingered on the events of the days before. And while she already dressed herself in some warm clothes and made her way outside to train herself a bit, she pondered the implications of the events of the past two days.
Meeting Garrick had thrown her somewhat upside down. Originally after delivering her package, she had intended to stay only a few more days to recharge, maybe get one or the other delivery in and then heading somewhere else. Amdarh – Dhemlan in general was not her favourite territory. But then... Which was?
She had also intended to keep her head low. Not that she was in danger, but rumours had reached her and some a family has been grieving the loss of a disappeared child or even women. It seemed always the women, though rarely witches who'd go astray, more Priestesses, Queens. Still. She felt uneasy. The fear the last queen had left with her ruthless rule still lingered and it made her queasy.
And then she had met Garrick. The Warlord Prince, who nagged at her competitiveness. The one who shared the audience with her. The air of being in a circus all over again, the excitement, the thrill, the want to do a show and again and again. Add to that, that she had behaved like a 13 year old short-lived girl (and felt like one) didn't help ease her mind. She – they – actually pulled up a show in the park that had attracted not only the landen children who generally roamed the markets while their parents sold their farms' goods, but also loads of Blood children and adults of any kind. She feared the park that day was busier than the market had been throughout the whole week.
She guessed she made herself as well as Garrick known like green dogs. Instantly spotted, instantly recognized. Instantly pulling attention. Would anyone ever connect her with being a Delivery Girl again? She wondered and shook her head. A reputation built over centuries wouldn't be gone just because of one lapse into he past. Wouldn't it? And everybody who ever had used her services knew where she was from anyway. A lot of the long-lived ones even still knowing the circus she had grown up in.
She needed clarity. She needed to know what to do. Mother Night, she was attracted to this giant of a man. Deep in thought she shook her head. Her mind dived in large circles around the core of her uneasiness. Only slowly pulling close to what she needed to think about most.
He had made clear that he wanted her. She felt it. She felt the sexual pull their bodies had toward each other. The tension between them. He was smart, intelligent and adapt in many ways. He was distant and carefully tried to control all of his environment. The deepest display of emotion she had seen was when he had nearly attacked the children. She had felt the disappointment in himself. He was a Warlord Prince through and through. She knew, to be content in the long run, he needed a Queen at his side. She managed this time, to pull him around from the killing edge he had slowly been gliding into. She had managed once to draw his attention back to her. She knew, in jewel ranks, she was darker than he was – she was actually surprised it did not seem to bother him in the slightest. She could have used those against him, to keep him from doing something stupid. She wouldn't want to have to use her Jewels against his. A little bit, they might make up for their difference in caste. Still... In the long run, he would need a Queen to serve, a Queen to keep him sane. It's what Warlord Princes are.
With his advances he had tossed her composure in a swirl. She shook her head in thought once again, her feet moving beneath her without her even noticing. She needed clarity of her feelings. Deep inside actually she was scared. His marriage proposal and his insistence threw her off. She was used to one-night-stands, vanishing before the male could wake up again. She was used to be on her own. Alone! She did not bond! She never had met another Eyrien, whenever she glimpsed one, she either threw a sight shield around her or changed direction. She avoided them like flames would avoid water. She had never really cared whether her one-night-stands were with short-lived or long-lived. She did not bond!
The pain of losing her father still sat deep. She had been fifty and never before that had she been so painfully aware of the distance it made to be of her kind. She had wrapped her heart in a shell since then, avoided friendships, avoided more than fleeting acquaintances. It was Garrick's presence now making her aware of how lonely she actually was. But wasn't it better to be lonely as opposed to having to constantly live with the loss of those you love?
The thought gnawed at her painfully. Unbidden, Snippets of Theresa's words entered her mind “... having the cutiesiess... You've not made your offering. You mustn't wait much longer... He is dangerous... Wings... Keep him... you might be too much for him“
Within just moments of being in her presence, Theresa had stripped a layer of the shield around her heart. Still, she refused to lay everything bare. She refused to change the life she had led for centuries now, just because a man who'll be gone in a glimpse again was able to topple her heart rate upside down. She groaned and soundlessly cursed the longevity within her veins.
She had wanted to find a suitable training ground and her legs had carried her through the town. When she looked up, the sun just started its ascend over Amdarh. She must have wandered for quite some time already and she looked down at her arms. Soft goosebumps have formed on he skin and she shuddered. It was a chill morning and she wrapped her wings tighter around herself. Looking up, she found herself before the Dark Sanctuary.
It pulled strongly at her inner barriers, suggestive and luring, warm and caring. Security and Clarity. Was this her time? Already? She looked at the building in surprise. It couldn't be! And yet, the way her Jewel responded to the Darkness in the vicinity of this building, it could not mean anything else. Was that the pull she had felt all morning? The restlessness?
Theresa's words again thrumming in her mind. Don't wait too long for your offering. The old woman had urged her. Was it a warning? Definitely not! She decided. Still, the Darkness pulled at her, guided her, wanted her. With an instant certainty she knew, if she did not go in there to claim what called her, she would wander aimlessly and restlessly without knowing her goal for the rest of her life.
Hesitatingly at first, she stepped inside, ducking her head through the door. It was quiet and only a few candles lit the way. She was here early and almost doubted that one of the Priestesses might be awake already.
“Lady Tourmaline” she suddenly heard a familiar voice. A Priestess stepped forward. “Priestess” Zara replied, turning toward her – recognizng her. It was her latest customer, the one who had sent her back and forth between Dhemlan and Glacia. She served here? Zara gave a polite smile, inwardly rolling her eyes. Of course she would! This was the largest Dark Altar after all. It suited her. “So you have come for your offering” the Priestess stated and once, Zara found herself surprised. Was it that obvious? Did everyone know but her? As if feeling a slight uncertainty within Zara, the priestess chuckled softly “Don't be nervous. Many come here, feeling the pull of the Darkness without knowing quite how close their time of Offering is. Step closer, Green Girl and find what is calling to you.” With those words she led Zara to a separate room. An Altar stood in its center, candles were lit around it. A chalice stood on top of it, a chair, a bench. Stars and Mosaics reflected the candle light and with a gentle “Take your time” The priestess left behind a loaf of bread and a caraffe of water.
Zara – now alone – walked toward the bench and sat down, taking in the mood of the sanctuary. As she sat there, the colours of the Mosaics playing over her face in the candle light, her wild circling thoughts returned. Snippets of memory flicked through her mind. Her very little spectacular Virgin Night, shadowed by her briefly thereafter dying father. Centuries for her griefing mother in a circus that suddenly had lost a large amount of love and colour for her. Her mother on her deathbed gifting her with her grandmother's leather folio. The letters. Explaining her heritage. The rage upon first learning about her grandmother's rape, upon learning about the breaking of a queen. Her ever so growing dislike for Eyriens. The buried, not yet accepted yet sure knowledge, of one day maybe giving birth to a Queen, like her grandmother. Sudden realization of what this meant. Sudden understanding of responsibilty. Denial, Escape.
Her rushing through the decades, centuries, never staying in one place long, never bonding, never loving, never being loved anymore, not knowing whether she could be as strong as her mother. Loving a short-lived one despite knowing the searing pain it would bring toward the end.
She had sat there unmoving for hours. Her muscles felt sore and she stretched legs and wings as far as she could within the small room. Through a small window, the afternoon sun shone in. The afternoon sun? She had spent almost a whole day within the sanctuary and still not even started her offering yet. Maybe it wasn't her time after all? She could still feel the pull. Stronger than ever before, and yet she had the understanding to wait until dusk. And so she sat down once again, reached for the water and the bread. She ate slowly, drank just as slowly.
She allowed herself to probe the nagging feeling. She probed the darkness within her, giving herself time to spend within the layer of the Abyss her Green offered. It meant comfort. It stabilized her, gave her security. She sat. She waited. Her mind cleared, her whirling thoughts came to a still stand. Her mind settled into a meditative state. And she knew what she wanted. “Mother Night, Darkness – I found my peace. I heard your call. Grant me the strength to love, to protect those who need to be protected!” thinking knowingly for the first time of the potential her grandmother had bestowed upon her.
When next she looked up, the sun had vanished from the small window. Zara made her way to the altar. Her legs felt stiff. She ignored it. She called in a little purse. The little purse, she had tied around her waist just yesterday, before her flight. She opened it and four cut but not yet set pieces of her Green Birthright tumbled onto the Altar. Carefully, she reached for the chalice on the altar, held it between her hands. Its depth called to her. She found a small dagger on the altar and used it, to prick her vein. She counted the drops as they fell into the chalice. One. Red and rich. Two. Hot and searing. Three. Cold and calm. She closed the wound with craft and knelt, the chalice before it. She climbed deep into herself. Deep into the webs. As she passed the Summer Sky, she lingered for a brief moment, smiling for the memories it held. The Purple Dusk – she thought of her father, who had often used this as his birthright to communicate with her. The Opal – the one her mother descended to, holding quiet promises.
She reached the Green. Her domain, her beloved Birthright. Her solace, her safety. Yet, the pull from the abyss grew stronger, the longer she lingered. Knowing, no matter where she'd end up the Green would still always stay with her, she descended deeper. Deeper ranges of her green she had not delved into. The pull still strong, she moved on. Sapphire, she stopped for a moment, getting to know its feel, its web. It was still close to her birthright and she felt comfortable. Yet, the pull still was strong. She followed.
Red. A jewel strength she was overwhelmed with. It was strong, pulsing through her and yet, still was dominated by the pull. Deeper. She felt the pang of fear. Deeper into the Abyss? Yes... it called and she did not feel all too comfortable within the red, its searing heat being numbing. She dove deeper. And was greeted by calmth. A warm feeling of welcome spread within her. Certainty. Clarity. Ability. Soothing after the searing heat of the red, the web she found herself on felt cool. The Gray. She felt herself wrapped by it, infused by it. This was her place. The pull had stopped. The abyss was quiet. Zara had reached her destination.
When she left the Sanctuary, she carried not only the pieces of Green in her purse around her waist, but also five pieces of one cut Gray jewel. She felt their power brim and felt the new strength through her. And now she knew, how she wanted to have them set. Finally!
When she left the Sanctuary, the sun was rising again. She had spent twenty-four hours inside. For a moment, she wondered if anyone had missed her and chuckled. The only one who could have had an interest in meeting her was Garrick. She wondered if he had missed her? She was hungry.
Rayne stood in front of the entrance to the court’s Sanctuary. She took a deep breath before she pushed the doors open and stepped into the ante-chamber. The court Priestess was waiting for her with a bight smile on her face. Over the past few months Rayne spent a fair amount of time with her learning as much about what would be happening tonight as she could. She wanted to be prepared for when the Darkness called to her once again. While Rayne fully enjoyed being spontaneous there were some things she would rather be prepared for. This was one of those times.
The sight of her friend’s smile caused he own excitement to build back up to the surface. After speaking to her parents and Lady Orin about the fact that it was time to make her Offering Rayne had tried to stay calm. The time for celebration would come once her Offering was completed. She took a moment to regain her composure, in the past few decades she had seen an improvement in her emotional control and she was pleased that it worked now. The Priestess held out her hands face up in a formal greeting. Rayne stepped forward and place her hands about the other woman’s.
The Priestess smiled once again when Rayne accepted her greeting. “Lady, everything has been prepared for you.” She gestured to the door behind her. “I’ll see you when you are done.” With her greeting over with the other woman stepped back in order to let Rayne pass.
Rayne nodded at the Priestess’ statement before her lips quirked in a small grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that statement she moved past the Priestess and quickly entered the inner chamber used for offerings.
She silently made her way to the altar in the center of the room. The only noise in the chamber came from the swishing of her full skirt against the floor. Rayne had chosen to wear one of her favourite morning dresses with an un-boned corset. The dress was a beautiful jewel toned pink that matched the Rose jewels currently resting at her throat and on her delicate finger. It was also extremely comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to pass out because she could not breathe properly. When she reached the altar she ran a hand down the front of her dress before pushing her skirt out of the way as she sunk to the ground.
One at a time she removed her Rose pendant and ring and placed them on the altar before her. She took a moment to admire the delicate gold setting her mother had chosen for her birthright jewels. She then called in her offering and placed it next to her Rose jewels. Rayne took a deep breath to settle her nerves and then began a slow controlled descent into the abyss.
The truth was she really wanted to dive as fast as she could to discover her new strength but patience was another trait she had been working on as well as emotional control. So rather than giving in she decided to utilize the time she had until dawn. It seemed like no time had passed before she felt herself easing into the level of Rose. Rayne stopped as she felt herself nearing the edge of the Summer Sky. It seemed that even after all the excitement she found herself nervous about taking that next step.
After a moment Rayne sighed and shook her head mentally. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She once again began to slowly descend deeper into the abyss. Entering the Summer Sky was an interesting experience. That level of strength had a different feel than she had ever experiences before but it did not feel quite right. That feeling changed the moment she slipped in the level of Purple Dusk.
Warmth spread over her the moment she settled into the Purple Dusk. It felt like home, some place that she was protected. Rayne was not even tempted to try and descend further to the Opal. The Purple Dusk was where she was meant to be, she knew that with every fibre of her being. So she settled in to explore her new strength.
Hours later she rose of the abyss just as slowly as she had sunk into it. Take time to enjoy the tiny changes she could feel between the different levels. When she final had risen completely out she raised her head and took in the sight of her new uncut Purple Dusk jewel resting in the place of the offering she had brought. She could feel a smile cross her lips before her eyelids closed and she sunk to the ground asleep.
A few hours later as the sun was rising over the crystal blue ocean Rayne rose out of her sleep and pushed her semi-rested body off of the ground in front of the altar. Just as meticulously as she had removed them she replaced her birthright Rose jewels. Once they were safely on she vanished her new jewels. She stood and smoothed her clothing out the best she could before making her way out of the offering chamber.
Like promised the Priestess was there waiting for her as she exited. Rayne paused momentarily to smile and nod at the other woman but was honestly in to much of a hurry to stop and make small talk. The Priestess seemed to recognize this fact and simply waved as Rayne walked past. The moment she was in the hallway Rayne gave up any pretence of calm and took off at a run, excited to share she new jewels with her family.
Those things which are precious are saved only by sacrifice
Former Ruler of Seaveu District, Dhemlan, Kaeleer. Pending Ruler of Dhemlan Kaeleer.
Atropos sat on her bed, her face in her hands. The Black Widow Queen sighed deeply. Everything always changed – or at least that’s what she was telling herself. Then again, it seemed that any time a major change happened in her life something bad either had, or was about to happen to someone she loved, and since Raz had left the coven, there were very few people she would consider that she cared enough about their leaving her would hurt. Sure, she liked Nera and several of the other witches that were part of this Coven, but she doubted they had enough of her that if would hurt if they left her. Then again, that’s what she’d thought about the Warlord; his leaving had hurt more then she was willing to admit even to herself. He’d been the closest thing to a lover she’d had in a very long time, and he’d been a source of comfort. Atty wondered now if she’d taken advantage of that comfort. Perhaps he’d not been as content to be the boyo she played with at home when another body hadn’t caught her interest.
Again that sigh issued from deep within her as she slid her hands down her face to rest her elbows on her knees and then her chin on her knuckles. The Queen’s golden eyes followed to the two bags packed near the door. One was filled with her favourite weaponry, and anything else that she used while on assassination business, the other was filled with clothes and the other whatnots of trip taking. Dea al Mon. Every time Atty thought of the place she got a little chill up her spin. It was a change, and someone would likely get hurt, and those someones would likely be her sisters.
She squeezed her fingers into fists under her chin. The whole situation bothered her to be honest. How had this NM heard of them? They generally found their proprietors, not the other way around, and the fact that they’d been heard about as far as the elusive Territory that belonged to the Children of the Wood really struck a nerve with her, and she wondered just how much this NM and whoever they were with really knew about her and her sisters. Had they just heard of good assassins and hired them or did they know the whole game? And who the hell was it that they were supposed to assassinate that would be so difficult and likely important that this NM had bothered to reach outside of the Territory? Was it simply because Dea al Mon had no one skilled enough, or was it because they didn’t want a trail within their own Territory that could incriminate them later. Atropos was used to dealing with shady people, but this one stank for her. She had no problems killing, hell, she’d been doing it professionally for a very long time now, and through sheer experience she doubted any of the short-lived race could match her talent for the kill except perhaps the most determined Warlord Prince.
The Queen snarled. This was a big job, if only for the fact that they’d be going to another Territory. In many ways Atropos would be happy to get out of Dhemlan and be able to be who and what she was without webs and secrets for fear of being discovered and hunted more then she already was. But what if this was just some elaborately set up trap?
She stood and started pacing, her three inch heeled boots making a dull sort of clicking as she did so. Everything inside her was all muddled up. And finally she stopped dead in her sitting room, a solution to her current dilemma having come to mind, but, the solution scared her to bits. Her Offering to the Darkness. If whoever at the other end knew who they were dealing with and were itching to off her and her sisters, they’d be prepared to deal with the Red, not the Gray, Ebon Gray, or… she shuddered… the Black. Atropos had put off her Offering for centuries despite the call of the Dark Sanctuary for well over a millennium. Afraid. She was afraid of wearing the Black. Afraid of being called Witch. Afraid of being that thing, the physical embodiment of the being that people danced for during the Winsol celebrations. She didn’t want to be alluded to the last Black Jewelled Queen who had walked the Realms fifty thousand years ago, and she would be, not only for the Black but because that Queen had also been a natural Black Widow as Atty was and had also been Dhemlanese, though of the Terreillian variety.
Atropos sighed. If she made her Offering, she’d be able to protect her sisters, and very few would be able to challenge her again. Fewer then could even now. The Queen glanced at the clock on the mantle and nodded. Not too late yet. Quickly she scribbled a note to her sisters, telling them that she’d had an itch that needed scratching and that she’d be back in time for them to leave tomorrow. They’d assume she meant getting laid, though she was talking about an itch that she’d avoided scratching for far too long.
Donning her black cloak and throwing a shield around herself, she left her room and on her way down the hall slid the note under Lachesis’ door before carrying on down the stairs, through the common room and out into Amdarh where she reached for the Winds and rode them to one of the remote Sanctuaries that was not regularly tended by a Priestess, though she knew that Clotho kept an eye on it from time to time, and so she knew that it would not be overgrown. This way her Offering would not be recorded on the books. She suspected she should have brought someone with her now, but she wanted to keep this secret, even from her sisters. The trump card no one knew about for the time being. Something she could use to protect those she loved more than anything else.
The Queen knew what to do, and she stripped out of her clothing. Then she waited for dusk before beginning one of the most important rituals of her life. She fed the Darkness her life blood, Offering it up to great Mother Night, begging it to give her what she needed to protect her sisters, but hoping, praying that it would be merciful and not give her a burden that she did not want to bear.
Quickly she descended through the ranks of the light Jewels. Pausing only a moment at the Purple Dusk to pay homage to her dear father, and then again at the Green to do the same for her mother. The two deaths that had derailed her life and changed her so completely. Atropos sent out a silent promise into the Abyss, the same promise that she’d given over their graves: that she’d protect her sisters with her life and that she would find their murderers and make them pay. Only then she’d not though it would take this long.
Then she plunged on until she came to the Red and trembled. This was it, the moment she’d feared for so very long. There was no going back. If she chickened out now she’d fail her Offering and never achieve her true potential. Then, with a deep breath, she slide through the Red Web that had been her home fro so very, very long and into the depths of the Gray.
The shear difference in power between the Red and the Gray was astounding to her. This was what had lurked just a single rank beneath her? For a moment she wondered just how deeper, darker, and more powerful the Black was. Quickly following that thought was the realisation that the Gray did not feel like home as the Red had when she’d received it as her Birthright. Following that was the feat that the Black was where she was meant to be. Atropos barely stopped herself from retreating up and into the Red. The Queen took a deep breath.
And another.
And another.
She continued to take those deep breaths until she was calm. No. She would not fail. The lives of her dear sisters may depend on her not failing. So, with one last deep breath, she plunged herself quickly through the Gray and into the unknown depths of the Ebon Gray. Again she gasped at the difference in strength, and she trembled. Then she stopped trembling.
Atropos liked this place. It felt like home as the Red had felt like home. The Ebon Gray. Her Jewel of rank would be the Ebon Gray. Atropos thanked Mother Night; not just for providing her with such strength, but for not making her have to live her fear of wearing the Black Jewels. She spent the next several hours acclimatising herself to her new strength and building her new inner Web. Then she rose up through the levels of the Blood, again astonished by the power she now called hers.
By the time Atropos would awake it would already be mid morning, and she knew that her sisters would be beginning to wonder about her as it wasn’t like her to sleep late. Hopefully they’d toss it up to having gone another round with the itch-scratching boyo. The Queen put on her clothes and fingered the dark gray, uncut Jewel in her hands before vanishing it and reaching for the Ebon Gray Wind and riding it all the way back to The Silver Spider. As she stepped through the front door her stomach grumbled it’s displeasure at having missed first breakfast. Atropos grinned, and hoped that her sisters wouldn’t notice how much more she would be eating for breakfast – or how exhausted she was. No male had ever left her feeling as drained as she did now… nor as invigorated at the same time.
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