Cassandra Pendragon
As I blearily opened my eyes, the scenes from my past still superimposed upon my surroundings, I felt a tiny bit lost. Usually my dreams had some kind of connection to what was going on. Another piece of a puzzle or an explanation for some strange occurrence but this…. Unless I really had forced a familiar's curse onto them, I didn't understand the impact of the memory. Could I call one or several of them? Maybe, but even if I could, I'd have to know the names I had bound them to, which I didn't. Why, then, had I remembered this particular scene?
With a cute snort Ahri snuggled deeper into me, her hair a flowing curtain of light on my lap. She didn't wake and judging from the position of the sun I hadn't slept for longer than half an hour. There was still plenty of time. Distractedly I started combing through her sparkling tresses, the smooth, silky feeling enough to calm my mind.
Greed… in essence, it had been a warning. Grant someone an inch and they'll take a mile. Gods… had I made a mistake? The pond we had created would slowly feed into the groundwater, effectively turning every mouthful into an arcane remedy and maybe even a catalyst to awaken hidden powers. Who knew, with the sheer amount of energy we had used it might even allow the ungifted to become fully fledged mages over time. As to why I had opted for this drastic measure, my reasons had been simple, maybe a bit too simple as it turned out.
Firstly, a city filled with mages and even magical creature, ranging from rats to birds, would pose much more of an obstacle to Amon. Secondly, the differences in power within Free Land mainly stemmed from the city's structure. If each and every one living here became a practitioner in their own right, it stood to reason the structure would crumble, hopefully making way for a more equal form of society. Ordering slaves around was only fun as long as they couldn't throw a fireball your way, after all. Thirdly, with powerful individuals bargaining and compromising was much more efficient than force or duress. This much I knew from personal experience. Lastly, playing around with their newfound abilities should, in theory, quell the thirst for even more strength, at least temporarily. Long enough for this city to change, to evolve.
All in all I had thought elevating the population of Free Land would solve most of our problems in one fell swoop and I had even managed to convince the others of my scheme. Unfortunately I wasn't quite sure if they had taken my arguments to heart or if I had inadvertently used a tiny bit of my power to bolster my voice and make them more… susceptible to my ideas. Well, Ahri and Viyara were an exception but, as much as I valued the two of them and their opinions, they were about as well educated as me when it came to the human condition, which is to say not at all.
I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Was everything going to become even worse? A chaotic battlefield, fuelled not only by mortal desires but now also arcane arts? Was I condemning this city to a swift and bloody end in a magical explosion? Gods, never, in all my different lives, had I striven for power or responsibility and I was slowly starting to understand why. I was even beginning to sympathise with my oh so misguided brother. Maybe Michael's mistaken hadn't been the compromises he had made but rather his ambition to become involved at all?
There was a balance to the world, to existence. Mortal problems should be solved by mortals. If we got involved, our might, our strength would make everything worse in the long run. No matter our intentions, immortal solutions would only warp the mortal world, turn it into something it was not. Like a city waking up to magic running rampant through its streets, exacerbating differences instead of solving them. But then again, it hadn't been me who had started to meddle. Gaya was already changing and I was simply trying to pick up the rags my family was leaving behind… or fighting the spectres, their arrival was already casting back through time. Jesus Christ, reincarnating as a spoiled kitten or a sloth, a wish once uttered in jest, was truly starting to become appealing. Especially with the sneaky listener, hiding behind the crumbled walls, just beyond the verdant grass. With another heartfelt, but admittedly quiet, groan I carefully disentangled myself from Ahri and stood up, making sure I didn't disturb her sleep. At least one of us should have the chance to recuperate fully.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I whispered and vanished in a shower of sparks. Perched on a blackened pediment high above the street I watched an adolescent boy squirm, his head moving from left to right, like a dog searching for a scent, while he tried to figure out where I had gone. There was no nimbus of power around him, no magic setting his blood ablaze. Truth be told, he looked just like another street urchin, unkempt and dirty with a mop of unruly, dark brown hair. He didn't wear a shirt or shoes and his trousers had already seen much better days but the maze of crisscrossing, faint scars on his back told a story of hardship and pain. Which, unfortunately, didn't come as much of a surprise. His smell I'll leave to your imagination. Still, I was intrigued. Somehow the little creep had snuck past our friends and had managed to spy on us for quite a while without me noticing. An impressive feet, all on its own, but I didn't plan on congratulating him.
Quiet like a whisper I glided down and landed behind him without so much as moving a pebble. "If you're looking for me, you'll have to turn around," I said and folded my arms below my chest. He flinched and swallowed audibly, slowly raising his hands in an I-surrender gesture. His left pinky was missing and more pronounced scars circled his wrists, hinting at a prolonged time spent in chains. Hesitantly he straightened from his crouch and faced me.
Intelligent, lively, brown eyes, squinted against the light, roamed over my figure to finally settle onto my wings, still dancing in the warm breeze behind me. He didn't pale, instead his lips twisted into a smirk. "I'll be damned," he replied, his voice a grating bass, unbefitting his young appearance. Maybe he had caught an untreated cold in the past. "The useless scoundrel hasn't lied." As if remembering his manners, he bowed awkwardly and added: "I'm a friend of Pete's. Jimmy's the name. A pleasure to make your Highness' acquaintance." Another inconsistency. His vocabulary didn't fit his state and mannerism in the slightest. Somehow he reminded me of Richard, the burly fighter who had led us to John and whom I still had to tell of his brother's fate.
"Really, now? From where I'm standing you didn't seem too keen on actually meeting me. Or is there another reason why you've been hiding?" He scratched his head embarrassedly and even blushed a little.
"Shyness and a healthy amount of paranoia? I mean… have you looked in a mirror, lately?"
"Cut the crap," I snorted, even though I could feel the corners of my mouth twitch. "If you're Pete's friend you already knew what to expect. How did you even get here without a trashing?"
"Who said I didn't get caught? Maybe I convinced your… guards to let me through?"
"Right… shall we go ask them?"
"I'd rather not… fine. Some parts of the city are riddled with tunnels. Escape routes, abandoned plans for a sewer system, tunnels for smuggling, you name it. If you know your way around, are small enough and not afraid of dirtying your clothes, you can easily get from one side of the city to the other without so much as ever setting foot in the sun. It just so happens that the building behind you is connected to the harbour in a very roundabout way. I even had to crawl through a… anyways, aren't you even a little bit curious why I'm here?"
"Not really. You seem like the kind of person who'd simply try to see us for the fun of it. I imagine Pete has told more stories about his travels than I'd like and you came here to make sure he isn't full of shit. Incidentally, was it worth it?" He shrugged.
"Depends. If you're going to turn me into an ant or a spider, probably not, but I wouldn't mind getting spanked for my troubles. You're not really thinking about hurting me, are you?"
"I haven't made up my mind, yet. Still depends on why you're here. Why are you?"
"Like you said, curiosity… maybe a bit of ambition and a pretty old debt. I've been watching you for a while." His expression changed, turning pensive. "You and your sweetheart. I'm not a peeping Tom," he added quickly and defensively when I cocked an eyebrow, "but I had to know… care like that can't be faked. You're not like the other people with power I've met."
"Don't be too sure. Even an evil bastard can fall in love. Still… assuming I'm not a cold blooded, power crazed pariah, are you going to tell me what kind of debt you owe and to whom, assuming that's why you're here?" He sighed like an old, tired grandfather.
"To a friend and… Pete. He's saved my life, more than once. I'm here on his behalf."
"Really? And why didn't he come himself? No offence, but his chances of persuading me to do him a favour are much better than yours. He should know that."
"He does. And he already thinks he's so deep in your pocket that he won't ever find his way out. He'd… Ah, hells, I'm not good with beating around the bush. Look… one of my friends, one of our friends, she's dying. Quickly. It's dumb luck that Pete even had the chance to meet her again. When he told us about his exploits I wanted to know why he doesn't simply ask for help, yours or one of your friend's. He reckons you'd say yes in an instant, if it was him coming to beg. Don't ask me why, but he doesn't want that. He wants you to think about your answer because there is nothing he…we could offer you in return. And he also says you don't owe him. If you agree, there won't be much of a bargain. We don't have anything." My temper stirred, vehemently.
"And he thinks that's the only reason I'm helping out, in the first place, does he? No wonder you've been hiding. Has he painted me to be some kind of detached, winged monster?"
"Quite the contrary…" he blushed again, "he said if there was anyone he'd willingly follow, even into the depths of hell, it would be you. You and yours. To tell you the truth, I think he expects you to come with me, either way, he simply didn't have it in him to ask you for yet another favour. You know, after saving his life and even his soul. Don't know if you've noticed, but actual courage isn't a common commodity. Plus, I don't think he could leave Brianna's side, even if he wanted to."
"So you volunteered? What does that make you? The knight in shining armour?" He blinked and his gaze traveled down to his bare chest and over his filthy trousers.
"Rather the curious bastard who couldn't stay away from a princess and an angel to boot. Just… don't go all heavenly wrath on my ass, please, even if you're feeling insulted." I chuckled, my anger gone and my mood much better than it had been just a few seconds ago.
"Don't worry. Alright, scurry along, then, and get her here. I'll…" I paused when he shook his head defeatedly.
"I can't. It's bad, really bad. Making her move… she won't arrive here alive."
"Of course she won't," I sighed, "and you still wasted some of her precious time ogling us… Fine. Come along. You've got to meet my better half." So much for her refreshing nap.
"It's not my fault," he complained, falling in step behind me. "Honestly, do you know how you look, especially when you're with her? I mean, I've seen my fair share of pretty girls, but…" he shrugged helplessly and spread his hands. "Like I said, not my fault."
"That's debatable at best. Still, for a juvenile delinquent you're surprisingly well spoken. Are the others just as… mature?"
"Others," he asked hesitantly. I smirked.
"The rest of your gang. Brianna I already know of and I assume Pete is something akin to an older brother. How many more are there?"
"Quite a few, but I think you've got the wrong end of the stick. We aren't a gang… we simply try to watch out for one another and get by as well as we can. Which isn't all that great, to tell you the truth. We're… friends, I guess, and there are five of us. And Pete. Does it matter?"
"No… probably not. Alright, what can you tell me about your friend's condition? You said she's dying. Anything more specific?" He remained silent long enough for me to turn around. He was rubbing his eyes furtively, the first real emotion I had seen him display. To preserve his pride I pretended I hadn't noticed.
"She's… withering away," he finally replied, his voice a little strained. "I don't know how else I could describe it. A while ago, maybe a week, she stopped eating and within a day she couldn't get up anymore. At first we thought she had caught just another bug, the way we live isn't exactly healthy, but when it became worse by the hour… there isn't much left of her. She's pale and clammy, her skin has become almost translucent, except for her veins. They're dark, almost black, and she's constantly whimpering… all of us can deal with a little pain but she's almost screaming as soon as we even try to touch her. And… she smells like candy. Or lilies, maybe. Not like, you know, stale sweat or sickness but sweet and somehow… heavy? Does it ring a bell?"
"No," I answered slowly, "but I don't think it should matter. If she's really sick, I think we'll be able to help her…" I felt his hand touch my shoulder hesitantly, his fingers trembling.
"This sounds an awful lot like there's a but coming. If so, please tell me." I sighed.
"But I'm not sure if it truly is an illness. I… do you know what lilies stand for?"
"Death," he replied quietly, unable to meet my gaze. Gently I took his hand and squeezed it.
"That's not all. They also symbolise purity, even fertility and rebirth…" my words trailed off. I couldn't quite bring myself to voice my concerns but I owed it to the kid. Man up, Cassy. "Look, Jimmy, I don't know anything for certain but a young girl, withering away while she reeks of lilies… to be completely honest, it doesn't sound like an illness to me. It just fits too darn well. If it's something else, I just don't know what's going to happen. I… as much as I'd like to, I simply can't promise you everything will be fine. I can, however, tell you that I'm going to do everything in my power to get her back and if you've listened to Pete, you'll know what that means." I didn't promise him that, either. As much as it pained me to admit the truth, I simply couldn't afford to spend as much time and energy as I might have to to make good on that particular oath. He granted me a smile, tremulous at first but it widened quickly enough.
"I know. Or at least I can imagine. However much it may be worth to someone like you, whether you're able to help her or not, I'll never forget that you tried, when you could have simply walked away. It means the world to me… to us."
"Are the two of you an item," I asked in a blatant attempt to change the topic. He shrugged.
"I don't really know. We like each other but we've never… you know, done anything. Maybe, if we even get the chance…" he fell silent again, wrestling with a rising tide of fear.
"She's one…" I had been on the verge of saying lucky girl, but it would have sounded cynical at best and plain nasty at worst. "She's lucky to have a friend like you," I finished lamely.
"Is she? You've got to meet her. She's…special. She could have her pick, maybe even among the bigwigs, but still she's staying with us. If something happens to her… it would be my fault."