An X-Addendum fanfic
(The start of a story five nights long.)
(This one is for Tyramir, who once also dedicated an X-fic to me.)
(Also posted on AO3.)
(Banner art by Chris Sprouse.)
THE FIRST NIGHT
Katherine Anne Pryde had been in advanced classes for as long as she could remember. (Figuratively, because her memory, even of her youngest years, was quite good.) So often in her life when not among grownups, she’d been surrounded by older kids. Even then she was used to being one of the smartest people in the room.
And there was nothing... nothing... that got on her nerves worse than when the older kids—by only one or two years—had treated her like a child.
Among the X-Men, she was once again the youngest, but she’d earned their respect as a teammate and an equal. Mostly. There were a couple of them who she was still working on. And Ororo mothering her didn’t count, no rational being could possibly object to that. The point was, they sometimes forgot how young Kitty still was.
And secretly... secretly one of her favorite things about living at the school in Professor Xavier’s mansion was the fact that nobody here ever thought to wonder if young Kitty Pryde ought to have a bedtime.
That’s how she found herself wandering the dark halls to fetch some soda she probably shouldn’t be having past 2 AM. She wasn’t the only night owl on the team, but perhaps the only one who hung around indoors. Logan was weird. And sometimes a li’l scary, if you innocently asked what he did outside all night. Kitty rubbed her eyes, bleary from staring at her computer screen for what even she admitted was too long. Let the Wolverine roam the grounds all he wanted—she was happy to have these halls all to hers—
“Yaaah!” she shrieked.
A figure had appeared in the doorway to the lounge, silent as... as Logan, but much slimmer.
“Hello, Cat.” The moonlight reflected in blue eyes as the figure stepped forward. “Tch. Kitty. Hello, Kitty.”
“Illyana!” Kitty said calmly and not at all in a shrill and terrified voice. “Still up? Couldn’t sleep?”
“No,” Illyana said without further explanation. She regarded Kitty with equally bleary eyes, staring through her as if looking for someone else.
Her teammate’s sister was not scary in the way that Logan was, but she was... unsettling. That was the best way to put it. And Kitty honestly wasn’t sure if she felt that way because Illyana genuinely did unsettling things, or because she was so different. A week ago, Illyana had been six years old (“almost nearly seven!” if you’d asked her, in Russian because that was the only language she used to speak) and now she and Kitty were of an age, or close enough. Seven years of her life lost to... another dimension, where time moved differently.
“Oh... all right, then.”
Neither of them moved. That definitely counted as unsettling, right? The way Illyana just quietly watched people now, with something like suspicion in her eyes, or... sadness? Longing?
Kitty shook herself and rubbed her eyes. Living with telepaths was giving her ideas—she couldn’t read this girl’s mind. Not even Professor Xavier could, he’d let slip as much. And Kitty wasn’t sure how she felt about him trying that sort of thing without a body knowing, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t warranted. Unsettling.
Then, because it was very late at night, she yawned.
Illyana yawned back. Kitty almost laughed. No matter how stoic or weird the other girl came across, she was human enough not to be able to stop herself from doing that, even if she briefly looked cross with herself for it.
“It’s getting way too late,” Kitty said. “I’m gonna go to bed. You really should too, y’know?” Great, now she was trying to enforce other people’s bedtimes.
From a moment, Illyana looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t, so Kitty turned around and started walking back to her room, holding herself back from glancing over her shoulder.
Halfway there she remembered she’d been on her way to fetch a soda. Eh, that had been a bad idea anyway. She’d get a glass of water from the bathroom and lie awake with her brain buzzing for another two hours anyway, whether she had any soda or not.
That night, though she couldn’t figure out why, she spent most of those two hours wondering whether Illyana had followed her advice and whether she was getting any sleep at all...
The release day of my original fantasy book, what a great excuse to also reblog my Katyana fic to remind people that they did seem to enjoy my writing...
Yes, I'm back again to promote my own fantasy book that isn't even X-Men related. But look, even Illyana is joining in to promote my witchy book now!
(Definitely what she's doing, no need to ask her or the excellent Rod Reis any follow-up questions.)
The Necrowitch: Child Sacrifices (by Niels van Eekelen) comes out in one week! A young witch, childhood trauma, a man trying to use children for his own magical ends. It's not an Illyana story, but that's not to say there isn't some influence there, some overlap in themes that I hope would interest many of you.
You should be able to find it on whatever e-book service you prefer, but here are some links for Amazon US, Barnes & Noble and others.
Not convinced? Why not give the first two chapters a read? They're free under the cut!
(Cover art by @drawnbylillac, who I've only just now realized is also on Tumblr.)
I
VOICES
NO MATTER whether the dead were muttering to themselves or shrieking at the top of the lungs they no longer possessed, their voices always maintained the quality of a whisper. Perhaps it was trite to describe the actual ghosts of the actual departed as 'eerie,' but if the shroud fit...
Besides, Tamatadara was far beyond caring about being accused of using hackneyed expressions. The voices haranguing her were eerie, and they'd just have to live with that. So to speak.
Huddled in a hollow at the foot of an ancient tree with her knees drawn up to her chin, Tama clamped her hands over her ears. It didn't really help shut out the voices of the dead, since she didn't hear those with her physical ears. But it usually made her feel better to try.
And what, you think you deserve to be rid of us? came a whisper that sounded like someone speaking directly into her left ear.
Killer... murderer... monster... other voices echoed from her right.
As the chorus of babbling and wailing whispers continued all around her.
The children were always the worst.
Most of the dead faded in and out--sometimes they were fully aware of what they were and how they'd come to be that way, other times they were only able to give voice to a terrible confusion. Too often, the children cried out for their mothers and fathers to come protect them. There was nothing Tama could do except try to explain why that was impossible. And take their blame as they hurled it at her.
By the First Spirits, did she ever need a drink. Alcohol was one of the few things that silenced them--or deafened her to them, same difference--as long as she poured it down her gullet in great enough quantity. Exhaustion was another, and at least the worse they harassed her, the sooner she reached that point.
Mommy... I want to go home! Mommy!
Wait... I know you, one of the voices turned suddenly lucid. Tama knew it was addressing itself to her, and braced herself for what was coming, squeezing her hands tighter over her ears until her elbows touched in front of her face. You were there! Back when I was alive. When I... NO! Aaaaiiih!
"The dead are not your fault," Tama whispered. "The dead are not your fault." It was a mantra she repeated to herself, over and over, until--on good days--she began to believe it.
Mommy! I don't understand! I didn't mean to get lost, I'm sorry!
YOU MURDERED US!
Murdered... murdered... muuurdered...
Today was not a good day. It was the culmination of a sequence of increasingly worse days that she hadn't been able to find a way to break out of. It didn't always help to be able to see the pit your mind was digging for itself.
The dead echoed the shout-whispered sentiment, whether they were dead who Tama had heard whisper before or not, whether they'd even met a violent end or not. Individuality was fragile in the afterlife, and a strong emotion could spread like wildfire.
This was the worst Tama had endured in a long while. Perhaps she'd begun to forget how badly some of the dead hated her--after all, she'd been traveling through civilization, with towns and inns spaced close enough together that she'd never been too far from a few strong drinks whenever the dead got in a mood. Ah, civilization... provider not just of alcohol, but also hot baths in which she could scrub herself clean of all this nature around her, which she was lacking here in the wilderness. Why had she decided to cross this untamed forest again?
Oh yeah. Because with civilization and towns came burial grounds, and there were far fewer dead around here to bother her. Which was a nice theory, but unfortunately she had her own dead, who followed her wherever she went.
"The dead are not your fault. The dead are not your fault."
When the mantra wasn't working, Tama's other best remedy was to keep herself busy. She didn't think she'd make it all the way to her feet in the current state she was in, but there were other, physical--real--sensations she could focus on all around her.
Am I dead? No no no I don't want to be dead...
She was sitting with her back against the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree, pressing against it hard enough to feel its knots and ridges through all her layers of clothing. Her hat was sitting crooked because she'd been rocking back and forth, bumping its wide brim against the bark.
We're all dead and you're still breathing, how is that fair?
Bark overgrown with wet moss. The occasional fungus. With First Spirits knew how many bugs crawling through it. Spores wafting from it. She was probably breathing them in right now.
Daddy warned me never to wander into the forest. I didn't mean to, I swear!
Oh, dung. This had been a mistake. Suddenly Tama was inexorably aware of everything filthy and alive surrounding her in this forest. Without meaning too, she reached out with her death sense and felt it all, from the long-dead animals in the ground and the tiny organisms consuming their bodies to the plant life and insects all around her--alive for now, but creeping towards their end like all living things did.
It's all your fault your fault your fault! You carry death with you!
Some kind of putrid liquid was seeping through the backside of her trousers. She'd been sitting in the dirt for too long and had been too overwhelmed to properly make a seat for herself of her water-resistant cloak.
What way is the edge of the forest? It's so dark and big!
A bug buzzed towards her through the air. It was probably a dung-eater and would land its filthy legs on her if she didn't regain enough control to shoo it away.
Her breathing became more uneven, and the world began to sway as it sparkled unnaturally before her eyes.
You murdered me! I used to be alive!
Cold sweat sent a shiver down her spine. No matter how disgusting it was, sweat came from her, so Tama usually found it easier to deal with than external grossness, but right now she just felt betrayed by her own body. Yes. Grab hold of that anger.
Dead. We're all dead here.
Hey, what are you sitting there for! Why don't you go make us some more company!
With all the energy was able to harvest from her anger, Tama roared, "SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU JUST... SHUT UP!"
Miraculously, they did. It wouldn't last, never did, but it was something. Almost worth the guilt she felt over it. Tama could hear herself breathe and lengthened her inhalations, wheezing as she sucked in air.
That episode had absolutely worn her out. But she knew she had to get to her feet and find a way to distract herself before the dead returned, or she'd be overwhelmed all over again. In fact, she realized, one of the dead was already back, or had never stopped softly whimpering. The children were always the worst.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't understand what's happening the forest is scary...
Hearing the one voice isolated from the cacophony, Tama finally realized what the girl was saying, what she'd been saying all along.
"Wait..." she said. "You know this forest? You didn't come here with me?"
You're talking to me?You can hear me? Oh, thank you thank you thank you.
"Yeah, yeah." This could be what she needed. Her angry dead hated being ignored, but as long as she was talking to someone dead, someone who might even be of help as a guide... "So you lived here, or on the edge of the forest at least? I guess a lot must have changed by now, huh?"
It's scary here. Wait... is that the elder oak? Yes, that's where the lightning hit it during the winter storm. It's so much taller than the other trees that we can see it from home. Oh, I can see so much more clearly now. Please, can you help me? Then maybe I can find my way home to Mommy and Daddy...
Tama turned her eyes up, knowing instinctively where the dead girl was looking. And sure enough, she spotted an enormous tree with the markings of a lightning strike, fresh enough that they couldn't have dated from before this past winter.
Not only was this girl local and had died here, but she had done so very recently. No wonder she was confused, because Tama knew instantly that she'd died by human hands.
II
WITCHCRAFT
TAMATADARA, after all, had more experience with those killed by human hands than she could ever hope to forget, and certainly more than she'd had reason to expect when she first discovered her ability to manipulate the mystical forces. And she knew all about lost and confused children, as well.
It hadn't been all that many years since she'd been taken from the safety and comfort of her parents' home herself. While it might not have been death that took her and she'd been eager to see her destination, she doubted any child went through the experience without some trauma. And her feet had hurt like crazy, that memory stood out clearly. She'd never walked that far before.
"You're sure I can't convince you to let me carry you a while, Tamatadara?" the witch had asked her a couple of hours from home.
"No, thank you, ma'am," Tama had said, looking away so as not to have to meet her eyes. Not out of pride of being too old to be carried--she was practically walking with a limp by now and would've welcomed the relief. But although it was far too rude a thing for her to ever say, the witch was, well... filthy. Perhaps that came with a life on the road, the way she had warned Tama that many witches lived. Tama didn't want to make assumptions about her sense of hygiene.
"No trouble if you change your mind, child. I can fold away your weight so you wouldn't be a burden at all. Haha, you might even enjoy the sensation of bouncing around like you don't weigh nothing."
Tama shivered, and kept putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the way her shoes felt like they were crushing her feet. Although the idea of magic being used on her didn't come entirely without fear, it was too exciting a thing to give her pause. When the witch had passed through their town and her parents had gently suggested asking her to test Tama, she'd leapt at the opportunity without properly realizing that the result which they'd all seen coming would mean she'd be leaving home. She certainly hadn't considered that it would involve being outside this much. Tama had always preferred to stay indoors. Where she could keep the rooms clean.
Oh, First Spirits, was she getting blisters? Was that what this burning sensation on the soles of her feet was? What if they popped inside her socks? The sores could get infected! She could lose the foot!
Then Tama nearly jumped a foot into the air as she felt a hand land on her shoulder. At Tama's panicked look, the witch immediately withdrew it with a gentle smile, and Tama drew a breath as if she'd been swimming underwater.
Blushing, Tama realized the witch had said her name repeatedly, but she'd been gone too far inside her own head to notice. Nevertheless, the witch didn't get angry at her for not listening, or make fun of her, or decide she was simple and dismiss her. Maybe... maybe there really were other witches who were like this, too--like Tama.
"I remember when I was first welcomed into the Witchcraft Sisterhood," the witch reminisced. "Didn't sleep through a full night for a moon at least. I'd never been away from my mother and my siblings, you see? Nobody wouldn't be at least a little bit terrified."
Tama might only have been eight, but even a six-year-old could have seen what the witch was doing. Didn't mean it didn't work, though. Her words distracted Tama from her anxieties--distractions were always the best medicine, and her curiosity about magic and what was waiting for her nearly blinded her to anything else.
"Were... were you my age? Ma'am."
"Oh, a little older I suppose. Our village was pretty remote. Had to wait until a witch stumbled upon us before I could be tested. In the bigger towns and the cities, the opportunity comes up more regularly. You'll share a coven with plenty of girls--children--your age, some a bit younger still. And I've told you, call me Corel. I'm not your teacher, and us witches aren't big on no formalities. Well, most of us aren't. Some of the branches fall in love with the rituals they practice a bit too much, if you ask me."
"Branches?" Tama asked.
The witch smiled at her. "There's thirteen branches of witchcraft, thirteen kinds of magic," she explained. "But you don't need to worry about that yet. The Sisterhood will teach you about all of them--when you dedicate your inner magic to one of them, that's for life, so we want to make sure you're well-informed first. No apprentice is allowed to make a choice until she's at least sixteen."
Enraptured, Tama didn't pay attention to where she was walking and stumbled over a broken branch left on the road. Swinging her arms wildly, she only just managed to recover her balance before going down in the dirt. She breathed a sigh of relief, but the incident brought her mind back to her painful feet, which she'd almost forgotten. She could definitely feel blisters now. Not to mention the dust of the road--she could see it on her clothes, even feel it on her face.
But she so wanted to be brave. She wanted to become powerful enough to control her fears. How could she become a witch if she was too scared to leave home?
Doing her best to even out her breathing, Tama raised her eyes to the horizon.
Only to realize that she couldn't see it. All around them on either side of the road, tall hills rose up, hiding it from view. Behind and above the hills, what must have been mountains rose up even higher, misty in the distance. The land surrounding Tama's town was flat as a pancake as far as the eye could see.
Confused, she turned to the witch accompanying her and received a knowing wink.
"Just a little trick to speed us along," she said. "Not that I'm not enjoying the company, but I don't think either of us wants to be on the road for weeks when a little witchcraft can get us where we want to be so much faster."
People, I really love beefy collections that collect a lot of issues. So I really love Marvel's Epic Collections.
Can we make these two real?
Two Epic lines for Illyana, one classic (of which 95% of material will be in the X-Men/New Mutants lines, but there's some missing gems I want) and one modern era (I just started with the Allen run, but we can do earlier volumes too).
So many gamers out there who have discovered Magik and who we could point towards these entry points...
Comics with Illyana's name on it. All pretty damn good stuff, but we really need to get back to this whole "having more than one issue" thing.
Personally I'm a fan of the "having triple digits' worth of issues," but I guess we can compromise somewhere in between.
...A while later, and we have a "more than one issue" thing going on, and this post is gonna need constant updates! (Just one cover per actual issue, though.)
Some X-Orcists thoughts now that it's been long enough that I can take a break from the cheering:
1. "X-Orcists." Cool title. Also easy to see as a sort of mini event book. The kind that lead into the launches of new ongoing titles. Am I thinking too far ahead? Yes, but I don't care.
2. This is launching pretty much as DNX ends, Illyana and Cain are in this, X-Men is supposed to get a shake-up post DNX. Could they be leaving the main X-Men book?
3. Who are we all hoping to see as part of this "powerful lineup of mystical heroes?" Personally, I think I'm rooting most for Nico Minoru. (If we're talking actually plausible options. I mean... Leah is also a powerful mystic.)
4. I wonder if Hesli is also back on colors? It seems likely, but Allen and Peralta have been very good in including his name in mentions of the creative team, and nothing here. Though that could be a Marvel thing--the writer and artist get mentioned in the announcement, and that's it.
X-ORCISTS #1 (OF 5)
Written by ASHLEY ALLEN
Art by GERMÁN PERALTA
Cover A by BEN HARVEY
Cover B by DIKE RUAN
Cover D by RUSSELL DAUTERMAN
DEMONS, BEWARE… the X-ORCISTS are here! When a demon escapes Limbo and begins terrorizing humans and mutants alike, Magik and Juggernaut of the X-Men team up with Madelyne Pryor, the Queen of Limbo, to take it down. But this demon is unlike anything they've ever seen before, and they're going to need help to stop its ruinous rampage. On Sale 11/18
Wooooo! This is the announcement I spent all of SDCC waiting for, thank you very much. No "Magik" in the series title, but with the creative team returning, it very much feels like this could have been "Magik and Madelyne," with Illyana as the true lead.
(And what's that, Madelyne? You done messed up again letting Limbo demons rampage across Earth? Any more comments about how Illyana was the one lacking as a ruler? My relationship with the usurper of Limbo will always be contentious.)
"The dark bond between mutantkind and magic unleashes a terrifying new threat on the Marvel Universe this November in X-ORCISTS, a new five-issue limited series by writer Ashley Allen and artist Germán Peralta. The acclaimed creative team behind Magik and Magik & Colossus reunite for the next chapter in their celebrated Magik saga as Illyana Rasputin confronts a demonic invasion from the realm she once ruled. But this time, she won't stand alone. Fellow X-Man Juggernaut, rival sorceress Madelyne Pryor, and a powerful lineup of mystical heroes join forces with Magik to battle a major X-Men supervillain whose return could unravel mutant magic forever."
"On the latest evolution of her work on Magik, Allen said, "Round three, baby! In all seriousness, I'm incredibly grateful to continue this journey with Germán and the rest of the Magik team, telling the story of a character so close to my and fans' hearts. Magik and Madelyne are both women who have been told what their paths should be, only to choose their own destinies. Exploring this has been such a powerful and rewarding experience and I'm excited for fans to see these two characters reclaim their power, evolve from their pasts, and discover what it means to truly wield themselves."
"If you had told me as a kid that I would be drawing X-Men comics, I wouldn't have believed it," Peralta shared. "This is a special X-Book exploring the mystical and dark side of the mutant world—what more could I ask for? Well, I think just one thing, and luckily, that happened too: having Ashley Allen again as the writer!"
"I really enjoy working with Ashley," he continued. "She perfectly understands the characters, not just their powers and how to use them, but also their emotions and motivations. I couldn't imagine a better partner to embark on this new journey with our beloved Illyana. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as we are making it."
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