(Vol 2) Chapter 22: In Order to Ascend...

Somewhat frightened by the echo resounding in her head, Sammy could say nothing immediately to Bast, just try to shake it off and block it out enough to avoid him sensing something was wrong.

Fuck me, but however I want to separate it in my head, I can’t. I am that voice. You can want the sun not to rise all you like, but it still comes.

“So be it, Lord Sebastion,” Samantha said as she recovered, mostly by invoking [Goddess]. “I will endeavor to see that such trust is not placed in vain. Ultimately, I want what you want. To see you develop and grow into all that you are capable of. Right along with me. But for now, you should feel entirely sanctioned to mourn as you need to.”

Bast took a deep breath and nodded. “I still have her… but yes. I am unsure who else I may have to mourn. Do you know of other deaths?”

Sammy blinked. “Not exactly. I’ll… have to look into it.”

“It’s going to be worse for my brother and sister when they find out… another reason for me to hate that fucking devil. In any case, they are not in the city. Both are married with separate holdings. My mother technically lived with my older brother but was relied upon as an advisor to my uncle so almost always was in the city. But… news will inevitably reach my siblings and hurt them…”

“I’m sorry, Bast.”

“I won’t ask you to alleviate it. Risky, and they are both standard cut-and-dry loyalists. Truthfully, it is me Mother poured all of her rebelliousness into. Or perhaps gave up resisting when it was clear how much of her secret self was in me.”

Bast had another thoughtful pause. “In any case, I think I’ll be alone for a while.”

“Of course. Let me know if there is anything else I can do. I’ll look into those deaths.”

After departing from the mirror, Sammy paused in doing anything else to meditate on the… other voice, the Fortuneteller, and all the strange feelings it dumped on her when popping into her head. There was more to it, as well. The weight of the unconscious things deposited in her from her trip. Her role was important, and that felt right, felt old…

But the moment Bast spoke those words was like a stone sliding and locking into place. Or a card turning up in the perfect, proper position. And it was all or nothing. A pivotal point that ruined things to fail. Certain occurrences would be a fate worse than death for her. Because she was in pursuit of a grand purpose.

Oh, to level up was divine, but she had to make the right plays to ensure the ascension. She had to walk the lower paths before she could rise.

So the moment was an excitement of a playmaking echoing through time. Lives past, lives after, superimposing enough to come into focus and go, ‘Fuck yeah, bitch!’ For a brief moment in time, a swirling vortex of possibility concentrated its attention on a particular touch-down point and it bubbled out of her.

She realized a couple of things… First, everything had shifted and changed for a presumed better end. Because it was an optimistic energy.

Secondly, and less fun, was that nothing was at all guaranteed. A house of cards was being built and could tumble down to nothing with a misplay, with the recipe for success unclear. What could fall and the structure tenuously hold? She was blinded to it by the structure of The Rules. As ever, she felt she was fighting against the System which facilitated it all. That was hardly a surprise, at least.

But it was very important… to her, at least. What the rest of the stakes were, she wasn’t clear on. Because she cared about Calrenazzod itself and wanted to make it a better place, that had to be some element of it. That was certainly enough for her.

I succeeded here by being true to myself. By not lying to someone I care about. Love, in some fashion. Being forthright and doing what I feel is best for them. This should be my key takeaway. I almost failed with Marjorie by not doing what was best for her…

It wasn’t always going to be clear, and that was the challenge of her life. Stacking the deck. Revealing the right cards in the right placement. One by one.

Sammy instructed Jeeves to dig into who was dead in the Kenstrom castle. Because of the increasing need for more delegation of duties, Sammy went ahead and created another Mirror Resemblant Servitor. For his Special Skill, she chose Lip Reading. Not only did she pat herself on the back for this, but Jeeves complimented her on something he was sure to put to use for information-gathering purposes.

Servitor Created. Alfred is born.

A mirror soon popped up with another suited, elderly gentleman, this time balding with a little black mustache. His hands appeared to be clasped behind his back. “At your command, Your Majesty.”

“Welcome aboard! Go ahead and get with your superior, Alfred. And don’t forget to sharpen the batarangs.”

“Right away, Madam. They’ll be razor-edged for the nighttime dispensation of justice but momentarily.”

Smirking, Sammy watched one faint shadow quietly convene with another in front of a network of mirrors.

She took significantly longer to come up with personality changes for the second faerie dragon. Dart needed to be unique… for various reasons. The biggest was that he was creative but kind of hapless. Effectively an unfazeable idiot hammer to throw at problems. One was more than enough, so she had to carefully avoid two without losing whatever made the Line distinct.

What she really wanted was something like a counterpart to Azure. Social capabilities along with that potential for physicality. A faceless chameleon as an agent to place anywhere she wanted. Someone intelligent and downright dangerous. If it worked out, she’d probably use it as a template for a few more eventually, too. She chose the Special Skill of Acting.

Playing with fire. But it is necessary.

Servitor created. Constance is born.

A great crystal burst into the form of an elfin figure with fluttering butterfly wings, clad in a diaphanous white dress. Very much like a faerie princess. She curtsied cutely, but when she smiled there was the communication of privately shared, playful wickedness. In a rainbow-like flash over her skin, reptilian scales showed, and slit eyes briefly hinted at her nature. All cultivated; deliberate.

“As kings and queens will one day, Your Majesty,” Constance declared while gazing up from the foot of the throne, “as high nobility already does, so I bow my head to the future Queen of All.”

Sammy grinned down and inclined her head. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Constance. Particularly into the confidence of important figures, hmm? I may need you for other things before I assign you your true specialty, but for now, when you are free, gather intel on the Geirkos Who’s Who. Various Followers can probably help with this. Confer as their time allows.”

Constance nodded her head thoughtfully, then did a dramatic spin, soon appearing as a colorful court jester. She then did an elaborate stage bow. “We’ll learn their game and beat them at it, Madam. I’ll make a book of tricks to place in your hand!”

Sammy left her to her work, wondering if her first really significant creative deviation from Redberry’s guidance would work out. She had… quite a bit of Sammy’s roguish side in her.

1 FE (Mirrors, Illusion, Fate, Light) obtained from [Devout] worship. Converted to Light FE.

2 FE (Mirrors, Illusion, Light) obtained from worship. Converted to Light FE.

2 FE (Mirrors, Fate, Light) obtained from worship. Converted to Light FE.

Galynth and other prayer stragglers. Worked out for a little more Light FE, though.

She re-connected to Agatha when she had a private moment, to switch her over from Greenleaf ‘officially’ as a Follower of Samantha, which was significantly more information when one included all the rank information and the Precepts.

When Agatha heard about the domains she laughed with a note of triumph. “Fate?! By the glory of heaven, we might actually have a chance with this in the mix!”

Sammy smirked at her through a mirror. “One might say the odds have indeed been improved.”

1 FE gained due to user belief/acknowledgment. Note: not yet a Follower.

Follower conversion successful. 1 FE gained. 1 Daily FE gained (total: 47).

Estara sent excitedly, “I squeezed in a big, juicy Follower, Your Majesty! The veteran scout Jerrion for Greenleaf! Conversion successful!”

Sammy winced a bit at Estara’s cluelessness, but it was par for the course, after all. “That’s wonderful, Estara! One more to go, right?”

“Yeah! Maybe tonight, after the ceremony.”

“Oh, wait, yes! Definitely do. Make sure they’re not too drunk, by the way. Drunk men with young- well, never mind. But maybe you can beat Orswyth’s record!”

Bewilderment through the link. “Wha…?”

“Oh, sorry… You wouldn’t know, duh. Orswyth converted as fast as he could for his quest. The time is recorded. I’m not going to look at it until you finish, then we’ll compare. He asked for it by being intentionally competitive, mind you.”

“I could beat the Hierophant?” There was a little surge of pride. “Well! He did ask for it, Your Majesty, because I’ll- I’ll beat that- that slowpoke graybeard for sure!”

Sammy laughed. “That’s the spirit, Priestess.”

There was one other conversion that needed doing: Bob, who had been more or less waiting patiently in some quarters of the great castle. She brought him fully into the fold as she’d done Agatha and introduced herself. He was indeed awed and amazed.

“Well paint me green and call me a sour lime, that’s a sight more than my dull brain imagined. It’s… it’s an honor and a privilege to serve, Your Majesty. You saved my liege lady and kept Oldaster from a lot of nastiness. Now I’ll be a knight. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You and the others were the real heroes of the battle, Bobarris. I just facilitated. Sorry for the deception. But it is kind of what I do, though. To survive — and hopefully to thrive.”

Bob grinned into the mirror. “It’s fine by me. I like to pull a fast one or two on people myself every now and then. Or at least a wee pun.”

“In that case, you’ll fit right in!”

As the time of the ceremony arrived, the audience chamber of the castle of Mot Mekess was filled with witnesses of all manners of folk, as the castle had been opened up to everyone for the oncoming feast. In many cases, children were sitting on the shoulders of fathers and brothers, to see the event.

Marchioness Agatha was resplendent in a fine dress of gold and white, with a cloak of purple over her shoulders. The coronet atop her head was elaborate and bejeweled with every color of stone. She stood on the steps up to her throne, which was fine enough to fit any king or queen. Somehow Sammy felt like it once had.

Trumpets blared calling for quiet, and then her nearby Herald spoke, “So we are gathered this day to make knights of mortal substance with the kiss of the heavens. So we are here to make new guardians of the March of Oldaster. As of old. As of forever.” After a dramatic pause he said, “Estara Nightsong, come forth and stand before the Marchioness of Oldaster.”

Estara solemnly stepped forward from the front, and once she was positioned directly below the Marchioness, bowed.

Agatha declared, “Let all those with eyes and ears bear witness to this reception of my authority as granted by the Dominion of Wisdom and heaven itself. By her proven virtue, valor, and honor do I, Marchioness Agatha, seek to raise Estara Nightsong to the rank of knighthood.”

She lifted a hand out to Estara, palm up. “Do you acknowledge the one before you as your rightful liege? Do you swear fealty, to defend and obey me to the death if necessary?”

“I do so swear,” Estara breathed.

“Then let this be the final blow you ever suffer without matching in kind.” Agatha then more or less slugged Estara in the shoulder, in a somewhat slow but heavy strike, enough to make her stumble backward.

Oddly, after the strike, despite that it had to hurt, Estara seemed relieved — Sammy realized it was because she had feared being knocked down. Meanwhile, those old knights in attendance who seemed to have taken her under their wing were beaming extra proud, like ‘coaches’ might.

Estara then stepped back forward and knelt before Agatha, muttering to herself briefly under her breath — perhaps rehearsal reminders. “I, Estara Nightsong, do solemnly swear my body and sword to my liege, Marchioness Agatha. I shall guard and obey her until this throne is relinquished or my flesh perishes. So too do I swear to always conduct myself as a knight should, in honor.”

Agatha nodded with approval, then leaned down to take hold and kiss her on the forehead. “And so do I swear to keep, guard, and honor you as suits your station. So I charge all others to recognize.”

A sword in a scabbard was brought to Agatha, with which she drew and tapped Estara lightly on both shoulders with. “I dub you Dame Estara. Arise, oh knight, so I may gird you with what you shall defend me and this very land with from hereafter.”

Dame Estara arose.

The quest “Engaged No Longer” is complete. 22 FE gained. 2 exp in [Bard] granted.

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« (Vol 2) Chapter 21 | Table of Contents | (Vol 2) Chapter 23: A Note of Many Layers »

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Samantha, Virgin Goddess of Mirrors & Illusion
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Goddess Level 2 [15/20]; Minor Deity

Domains (3/4): Mirrors, Illusion, Fate
Faith Energy: 243/2500
FE (Mirrors): 6 ; FE (Illusion): 14 ; FE (Fate): 10 ; FE (Light): 9
Followers: 37 (Daily FE Gain: 47 [51])

Devout: 7
Priests: 3

Brute: 0
Rogue: 0
Wizard: 1 [14/20]
Bard: 0 [7/10]

MP: 22/28

Special Skills: First Aid, Tarot Reading, Priestly Ordination, Holy Relic Investiture, Create Servitor, Read Runes, Spell Construction, Detect Magic

Special Traits: Token User, Immortal, Demiplane Domain, Conceptual Body, Fueled By Faith, Avatar (Samantha; Core)

Spells: Identify (5 MP), Icebolt (3 MP)

Powers: Faith Energy Utilization, Grant Prayer (Illusion), Grant Prayer (Fate), Mirror Sense, Mirror Communication, Intuition, Alter Fate, Create Illusion, Grant Invisibility, Dazzling Spectrum, False Auras, Mirroring Duplicates, Reflect Force, Mirror Maze

Status: Token User Promotional Bonus (8/30)