Let loose the hounds of war. Let the dread fire of the last priestess rain down from angry skies, for brother will slaughter brother, for friend will murder friend as the great horn sounds a cold dawn at Camlann. The prophets do not lie. There, Arthur will meet his end upon that mighty plain.
You slip back into the building with almost no effort.
Suspiciously no effort. It’s like -
“My dear, do you really think...”
Your fists clench, but you keep going.
“...I wouldn’t even greet you? I’m not so rude.”
You ignore Cherie. All you need to do is keep walking. You can’t do anything to them, can’t upset their plans...but you can make it easier for Naeyrn and Chimer, who will probably follow you. Maybe they’re coming even now.
A small hand rests on your shoulder. You want to bite it. Instead turn your head to look at the short troll.
The most familiar and hated features you know.
“Leave me alone.” The words are nearly a hiss, quiet against the sterile inside of the skyscraper.
“That’s not what you wanted, several sweeps ago. You begged me to make you safe.” They murmur, softly as if to a wriggler, as if every word isn’t a reminder of their power over you.
They reach up to your throat, brushing against your tattoos gently as a shudder runs through you.
“Don’t - don’t pretend you ever believed I could be.” You manage to snap, though it’s tetchy rather than truly aggressive. You shrivel inside at the weakness. You could have Cherie kneeling on the floor...if you hadn’t let them take advantage, those sweeps ago.
And for what?
For this?
“I only wanted to give you what you desired.” They say, getting even closer, a hand to your side. You hate that you recognize their perfume; it’s their favorite, citrus and vanilla. You used to mix it with oil to see the puzzled, annoyed look on their face.
“I know better now.” This time your voice is stronger with bitterness.
“You might be over me, but you’re not over her.” They say, amused now and less soft. “She has the power helped make you. Isn’t that a tad perverse?”
“You have nothing to lecture me on of perversion, Cherie Dolcez, when you keep Maidel as a prize. You’re disgusting.”
They actually pause.
“I never forced her.” They say, the faintest hint of petulance on their lips. You smile, little though you should. You could always get them to break their facade if you pushed hard enough.
“You don’t even pity her. She’ll never pity you again, now that she knows better. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Your stupid bloodline obsession. Liehde’s get should have died with Etoile. Better an idiot than a highblood so pathetic they’re fit for nothing.”
You feel them stiffen for just a second before they relax and smile again.
“It’s been lovely catching up, honey, but you’re not interfering anymore, even indirectly.”
You start to laugh, and then realize you have a splitting headache. That shouldn’t be poss - that shouldn’t be possib -
The last thing you see is the device on Cherie’s palm as you collapse, which looks unpleasantly like a nullifier.
--
Chimer Latrai || Present Day
You stare up at the skyscraper, its violet lights visible from many blocks away. Naeyrn’s beside you, mask on and biting her lip, and she reaches out a hand. You squeeze it briefly before letting it drop; the two of you have to focus now.
You take your clock in your hand.
One turn of the dial on its golden rim
Things slow.
Two turns.
The rush of the city is gone like a sigh, within the bubble Naeyrn has made. Space and time are synced into an unnatural state
for only a second as
she makes a portal and you both
step through to a perfect trap.
--
Maidel Juzuxt || Present Day
You feel you know the ceiling as well as your own horns from how long you’ve stared at it, only occasionally shifting in the plush couch provided in your block. None of your games seem appealing; none of the violet-class food in the coldbox. Cherie’s ideas seemed so enticing down in the generator...but now it just all seems insane again. You don’t know what to think.
The only reason you start to get up is the crick in your neck from resting your head on the couch arm. The cobalt-embroidered cushions lay on the floor, tossed there when you flopped down.
As you get up and stretch, you notice the corner of something poking out from under the couch’s dust cover. You get down on your knees and tug at it, easing it out until you recoil as if burned.
It’s...it’s a diary with a cute sheep design on the cover.
It has your name on it.
You tentatively flip it open.
“I beat the DLC in two days! Survived on chips alone. How’s that for an accomplishment?? W00T!”
Oh god, this sounds exactly like you when you were six. You cringe.
You flip further onward.
“I’m so bored I’ve finally started writing in this thing again. Can’t leave, something something, but it’s not like I have a lot to do. It’s not SO bad I guess, but I wish we’d just get going with things. What’re they waiting for?”
You turn a few more pages, a bad feeling growing in the pit of your digestive sac.
“This THING showed up tonight! It was huge, with wings, and an eye on its neck, and it was terrifying! Somehow Cherie stopped it just by talking to it, and led it away...They’re really amazing sometimes. I wonder what that was? It told me it was sorry. Weird. Then Cherie came back with some weird looking troll. I don’t know what that’s about.”
The last entry is only two words.
“They lied.”
Thanks, past me! You want to scream. Lied about what? You’re so helpful! Thanks for going and hooking up with a creepy blueblood who wants to warp reality for some weird utopian nonsense! Thanks for supporting them! Thanks SO MUCH!
You shove the stupid useless thing back under the couch and it’s right then that you hear a knock, and freeze.
You get up slowly and go over to open it.
It’s Cherie, of course, and not only are they smiling (as usual) but their hands are pressed together and they’re moving back and forth slightly, as if so excited they can’t stay still.
“Maidel! Everything’s ready. Come see!”
They reach out as if to take your hand before letting it drop, looking sheepish, but their excitement is quickly recovered and they skip on. You follow, mostly because maybe, maybe this is finally ending. You can go back hive.
Again you hear the ring of a faint bell.
You go back down to the generator, but this time, it’s not only the helm columns that greet you; your mouth drops open as you see...
“Naeyrn.” Your mouth is dry, the word a hoarse croak. It’s her this time, you know it.
“Chimer?” You add, confused. What’s she doing here? Did Cherie really mean...
Both of them are being restrained inside what looks like a shimmering forcefield bubble, and both are unconscious.
There’s another troll - or is it an android? They have a visor - on a pedestal raised above the others. They’re just...lying there, as if asleep, but unnaturally still.
Erikaa, Tabula, and Priori are all standing off to the side. Cherie gestures to the olive and the fuchsia.
“Priori’s knowledge allowed me to capture them. See how the people who hurt you no longer can? In fact...”
They gesture again, and one of the columns slides open. You stumble back, terrified.
“Doroch!” You cry, but they too look like they’re asleep, and the door slides shut again.
“I have Blanca Rincon as well.” They comment casually. “It’s a shame I couldn’t get miss Lyseli too, but everything in time. Do you see, Maidel? Everyone who made you afraid...they’re all going to change.”
You say nothing. You don’t understand.
Cherie takes out a remote, presses a button, and the troll on the pedestal’s visor flickers before they sit bolt upright.
They turn their head toward you and their ears flatten.
“I’m sorry.”
The blueblood uses their other hand to take two objects out of their sylladex and put them in your hands.
Chimer’s clock. Naeyrn’s mask.
You shiver.
Then they press another button, and the troll on the pedestal warps into a horrific crouching beast, with a crackle of energy that sounds horribly, horribly familiar. It’s...humming, a deep, low lament.
The shape is different. It has legs, and only one set of wings, and a head that’s a terrible amalgam of almost-troll features and eldritch ones.
“Look at what Echthros became, Maidel! A mockery of Orthos Aviiva and itself, since it no longer had my moirail’s form to steal. Made by the very creatures responsible for all our misery.”
They smile as wide as you’ve ever seen.
“Let’s make them pay atonement for their crimes, shall we? I need you to break these objects, Maidel. It will release the creatures who shut themselves in there, one last gambit to ensure their survival.”
You look at the creature again. It’s curled into a ball, tail wrapped around it as it continues to hum, head bowed. It seems a lot less threatening than Echthros ever was.
“Don’t bother pitying it, Maidel.” Cherie says soothingly. “It’s still essentially the same being who tried to wipe you from existence. It would hurt you if it could. Do you think it doesn’t hate you for banishing it? It lies. It has always lied.”
“That’s not striiiictly true.”
Priori’s voice is the last thing you’re expecting to hear, and you still flinch slightly.
Irritation flicks across Cherie’s face for a second before they smile questioningly.
“Now’s not really the time, dear...”
“It really is, though.” She says, finishing with a yawn. “Y’see, we were all kinda like hey, I’m not so sure about this, because like, suddenly you’re only paying attention to freckleface here, and you know that’s not very reassuring and all, because like...the rest of us exist too. Including your ‘rail. You know, the whole reason you did all this anyway?”
Cherie turns and looks at Erikaa, now looking sincerely worried.
“Eri, I’m so sorry...”
“Save it.” She snarls. “Shove it into the incinerator with the rest of your garbage.”
“Eri, I - ”
Tabula takes the mask and clock from you, and everything vanishes in a massive burst of white light.
Damn Allie you’re making it clear you’ve been following me far and wide on his site for too long now. But omg yes Hermione/Harry my first ship from before I even knew what a ship was
