An Angel’s Road to Hell

Cassandra Pendragon

“So do I. You stole parts of my kingdom, literally. Is there a reason why I shouldn’t carve my dues from your quivering hide,” Erya asked menacingly. The wolf shrugged, a strange gesture for a four-footed creature.

“It wasn’t personal and it wouldn’t make a iota of a difference for you now, would it? Honestly, what do you want me to say? Back then I would have been killed by my own people, if I had refused, and my mistress seemed like the scarier one to anger. Did you know she branded us? Even if I had considered switching sides, I wouldn’t even have lived long enough to meet you.”

“And now you’re free? She simply gave up on you?”

“As if,” he snorted. “I burned off my mark and made a run for it. Directly into the arms of one of your former subjects. My life didn’t turn out for the better, after that, I can promise you as much. I’ve paid my dues, more than once. Can’t we simply let bygones be bygones? Pretend like this never happened? I won’t get in your way again, I promise,”

“Do you actually enjoy watching this charade, even though you already know how it’s going to end,” Greta whispered in my ear. I nodded emphatically.

“Very much so. And I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. She won’t kill him, but other than that… I’m also pretty interested in his story and the few sentences they’ve exchanged told me more than I would’ve found out by my lonesome in ages. Did you know that parts of a fey realm could be stolen?”

“I did. The fey wilds are living magic and just like any spell they can be wrestled away from the caster, or rather holder, in this case. You either need the skill or the power, neither of which are easy to gain, but it’s very much possible. Why do you think Erya’s people are acting like a swarm of panicked bees, only because their realm was discovered? With enough time and some bad luck the elves might just take it from them. It’s unlikely, but a very real concern.”

“Doesn’t that mean I won’t be able to enter any fey realm without destroying it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know enough about your peculiarities to say for sure. Chances are nothing at all would happen, since the magic wouldn’t even recognise you, but it might also implode or simply become yours. I can’t wait to find out… even though I don’t have to have a front row seat.” Smirking, I was just about to call her a coward when Erya suddenly erupted:

“Are you fucking insane? Why ever would I want that?” Unfortunately I had missed a few sentences in between and wasn’t entirely sure what the wolf had said. He didn’t seem fazed, though, and smiled at her toothily, his tail wagging.

“Power, safety, fun? One of those. It wouldn’t even be difficult. Your blood still contains the key to the Silent Glade, does it not? I can show you how to use it from the outside.” Alright, that had helped. In case you aren’t a mage yourself, allow me to explain. I’ve mentioned before that a spell contains a minuscule part of the caster, or rather owner. Considering what Greta had told me, the ruler of a fey realm was probably the person who held the anchoring spell. I still wasn’t quite clear on how Erya’s children could have succeeded her, if she wasn’t dead, but those particular enchantments had maybe been constructed to hold more than a singular identity. Whatever the reason, she probably still had the capabilities to tap into the structure and reclaim her lands. A fact Carnen wanted her to exploit. Which didn’t go over quite as smoothly as he had imagined.

Fingers twitching the former queen closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath through her nose. “You’re just like I remember. Greedy, shortsighted, reckless…” he yawned provocatively.

“I’m fey, you dullard, and so are you. Don’t tell me it actually matters to you that they’ve crawled out of your womb. So what? They’d devour your heart in an instant if it meant consolidating their power. Why would you care? You wouldn’t even have to fight them yourself. If you opened the door, I’m sure the elves and all the other enemies they’ve made would line up to kick their asses for…” he didn’t get much farther, seeing as his throat was slightly constricted. In the middle of his sentence Erya had grabbed him and hoisted him into the air, where he dangled like a helpless puppy, while her pitch black eyes seemed to dig a hole through his skull.

“If you value your life,” she hissed, “you won’t finish that sentence. This is your last warning. I might not act like it but I’m still a Lady of the fey and you better remember it or I’ll turn your hide into a coat and send it back to the Purple Queen. I’m sure she’d appreciate the present.” He raised his paws in a very human I surrender gesture and croaked:

“By all means, no need to throw a hissy fit. Could you put me back down? I won’t mention it again.” Still seething she relaxed her grip and the wolf crumpled at her feet, craning his neck to open his choked windpipe.

I gently touched Erya’s shoulder and shot her a questioning look when she turned around. Sighing, she said: “it’s a long story. Most of it you’ve already figured out, haven’t you?”

“I think so, but that’s not actually what I meant. Do you need me? Otherwise I’ll take Greta to the basement. We won’t be gone for long and the two of you look like you’ve still got a couple of unresolved issues.” She made a shooing gesture and forced a pinched smile onto her face.

“By all means. We’ll still be here when you return. Don’t you want to know who the Purple Queen is? After all, this is a conflict that might very well impact what you’ll have to face on the Emerald Island. Trust me, I might have been gone for a while but she won’t hesitate to exploit the brewing war. One way or the other we’ll hear from her.”

“Definitely, but you can also tell me over a glass of wine. If I’m not mistaken we’ll still need at least a day to get to the elven capital from the portal. Plenty of time to listen to your confessions.” Her smile turned genuine when she replied:

“Careful, Cassy. First a kiss and now ambiguous word choices? Whatever will your fiancée think?”

“Seriously? I guess the better question would be what you might be thinking.”

“Apparently too much. Nothing has changed, has it? No matter. Go on, we’ll still be here, once you return and no, I don’t need you to babysit me. He’s all out of magic and even if he was at his peak, he wouldn’t pose a threat to me. I’m a big girl, you know, I even reigned over a fey realm, once upon a time.”

“Never doubted it. Fine. Don’t kill him, would you?”

“I’ll try my best but he’s just… infuriating. How did you even put up with me in the beginning?”

“Didn’t have much of a choice and you’re prettier than him. I’m glad you can appreciate my struggles, though.”

“I heard that,” Carnen rasped and finally manage to stager back to his paws. “I’ll have you know I can also change into a humanoid shape, if that’s the problem.”

“Can you also show some restraint and empathy,” I shot back.

“Maybe, I never tried,” he mumbled through his still constricted windpipe. “Why would I, though?”

“Oh, it’s supposed to be good for your health, your neck especially. Alright, I’m off, then. Alassara, are you coming as well?”

“I think I’m going to stay. This is much more fun to watch than the two of you brooding over old runes. Also… if you want the wolf to survive it might be a good idea to have someone around who’s less… easily incited.” Quite the claim, considering her bloodthirsty nature, but she wasn’t wrong. The way Erya eyed the still wobbly wolf didn’t forebode sunshine and rainbows. She wasn’t yet gunning for his life, but their past must have been turbulent enough to leave a lasting impression. Also, while I had gotten used to it with her around, she herself obviously wasn’t the biggest fan of his loose mouth and nonchalant attitude. Oh, how times had changed. Having someone to care for really had turned her into a different person.

I hugged her and Alassara briefly, putting a little more force into it with the fey than would have been necessary. “Why don’t you take him to the Garden. He can have something to eat and you can also keep an eye on my mom to make sure she doesn’t manage to embarrass me completely.” As an answer to their unspoken question I added: “she’s planning some kind of farewell. I don’t know what she’s up to but I fear she might go a little overboard, especially with the new arrivals around. Have you already met Quenda and Narros?”

“Briefly, when they landed,” Alassara replied, “but they’ve mostly been fawning over Viyara or Sera. We didn’t want to intrude.”

“How considerate. Well, they’ll be around for a while, so there’s no need to rush.”

“Anyways, what do you mean by her going overboard? Isn’t it just a little get together?”

“You’d think so, but knowing her she might turn it into to an affaire d’Etat. And I…well, I’d rather not. Do keep her in check, will you?”

“If we can,” Erya said. “That girl is about as easy to control as you. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it?”

“I’m just not so sure anymore who’s the apple and who the tree,” I joked and waved them goodbye, already reaching for Greta’s hand to pull her along. I didn’t know when I had started leading people around like infants but somehow I had gotten used to it and nobody had complained, up until now.

“I can walk by myself, thank you very much,” the dryad complained when we were out of earshot and pulled her hand from my grip. “I’m neither a child nor a crippled elder, not anymore.”

“Didn’t I help raise you? You should’ve gotten used to it by now.”

“First, emphasis on help, Aurora actually did most of the heavy lifting, and two, I’m not six anymore. We had the very same discussion a few centuries ago. Want to go over it again? Spoilers, you’re still going to lose. But if you want to, you can carry me piggyback.”

“Really? I wouldn’t…”

“No. Unless we’re in a life or death situation I’m going to carry my bones all by my lonesome. I didn’t really mean it when I called you my noble steed, or did you actually take me we seriously?”

“I thought you’d feel honoured. Almost everybody I can think of would pay an arm and a leg and then some for the opportunity.”

“They’re all bozos who don’t know you that well, yet. Ahri is an exception. Why don’t you ask her? I’m sure she’ll have some choice words for you as well.”

“Probably. You know, I actually missed you, but now I’m not so sure why, anymore.”

“My innate charm and grace, not to mention keeping your perky ass from charring. On a more serious note, though, I’m glad it worked.” We entered the burned building and I had to pause for a heartbeat to allow my eyes to adjust to the dim light.

“It…,” I mused. “Do you actually know who engineered the spells you used?”

“Ah, Auguros spilled the beans, didn’t he? Of course I knew. I’d have recognised an immortal’s handiwork anyways, without being in the loop. Did you think I didn’t?”

“I wasn’t sure. Why did you trust Amazeroth?’

“How could I not? When it comes to your ilk trust is not really voluntarily given. Us mere mortals either do as we’re told or we die, simple as that. Plus… yes, I do believe he doesn’t mean you any harm… at least as far as his own definition of harm goes. Pain, blood and suffering, sure, but death? No… he wants you alive, whatever that’s worth. I think… oh boy, I don’t think you’re going to like what I’ve got to say, but I think he’s… grooming you. Not to fight a war, but to fight his war… in his stead. Tell me Cassandra, do you remember ever meeting him in person?”

“Once,” I answered hesitantly, “as you very well know. It was when we met for the first time.”

“And he stole my sight, the bastard. Except… I don’t think that was him.” I snorted derisively and she explained: “oh, it wasn’t someone else, but I believe it was an illusion or something similar. I only found out while I taught you on Boseiju but magic an immortal casts within their own body doesn’t leave a trace. None at all. I have several theories as to why, but the important part is, that even after all those years I can still detected minuscule traces of the spells Amazeroth used during the cataclysm. Why? Most likely because he didn’t use his own vessel to craft them.”

I ducked through the opening in the cellar wall and waited for her to climb through. “I’ve known you for years now, what are you getting at? That’s not just some interesting tidbit you stumbled across. Why do you think he used a facsimile?”

“Your guess is as good as mine but there aren’t many reason that make sense, are there? Either he doesn’t want to or he can’t meet you in person. With you being… you the former is a very real possibility but I don’t think that’s the case. Even for an immortal the energy expenditure to create a copy you wouldn’t see through immediately would be daunting. Why go through all that trouble unless there’s no other choice. Now, the real question is why can’t he meet you… especially since he’s seemingly doing everything in his power to guide you towards a very real encounter, somewhere down the line.” I tried to wrap my head around what she had said and especially the parts she hadn’t voiced out loud while we passed the final door and found ourselves on the shores of the underground lake.

“Fine, I’ll bite,” I mumbled, my eyes glued to the dark, towering temple, my tails quivering in the freezing cold air. “I can’t come up with an explanation from the top of my head…”

“Really,” she interrupted me, her voice slightly distorted by the sheer amount of mana she was beginning to gather. “You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I swear, while I’m growing up, you’re starting to regress,” I hissed. “If you have something to tell me, do so, but don’t beat around the bush.”

“Antsy. Being separated from Ahri isn’t good for you, you know that, right? Anyways, I’m not insinuating that I know the truth but I’m also not buying that you can’t come up with an explanation. Let’s just pretend it’s a story someone told you. Two enigmatic beings are constantly dancing around each other, butting heads, meddling with each other’s choices,” that was mostly him, but pointing it out wouldn’t help much, “but yet, they never come face to face… or rather, they won’t until… the very end. What does your intuition tell you?” I swallowed dryly.

“That one or both of them believe they’ll have to fight to the death, once they meet, or… they might just be…”

“Connected more deeply than it seems, like two sides of a coin. Precisely. Now, Cassy, tell me, what do you think is more likely?” I hesitated, my head spinning. Could she be right?

“Honestly? Even amongst our own people we’re… feared. Should the Lord of Mirrors and I ever engage in a real battle… I don’t even dare imagine the outcome. Chances are that’s why he doesn’t want to meet me in person and, truth be told, I share the sentiment.”

“If you say so. I don’t agree, however. There’s a simply reason for it, too. You’re still alive.”