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Rain Harlow
Rain Harlow

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(Vol 2) Chapter 21: Charging After Denial

Bast stared and shook his head at Samantha, no words coming immediately. His mother tried to embrace him, but he ripped himself away, pushing back, shaking his head in denial. “No! No, this is a lie — a trick! It’s not- she can’t be- this isn’t her!”

He backed away several steps, instability in his features, eyes searching to find evidence for those lies in their faces. But he clearly didn’t see it. Helplessly, he broke into a sob, then dropped down to the floor on his behind. His head was still shaking as he cried and looked between them.

His mother went down soon thereafter, taking his hand in both of hers and this time he didn’t resist. He looked at the rings on her fingers, searched her face, looked into her eyes, and it was clear he lost all denial, because he knew it was all her — could only be her to have such vibrant and clear recognition amidst all the vagueness of the illusory realm around them.

A pained wail issued from him as he looked at her, and he fought desperately to control it. “But I just saw you… you were just-...” He trailed off, and Marjorie finally embraced him, so that he cried on her shoulder.

Samantha, eyes full of tears herself, was about to leave to allow privacy, but Bast seemed to notice the tiniest shift in her like it was telegraphed. His eyes shot to hers and he shook his head. Pulled back from the embrace.

Fighting down his sobbing, Bast locked eyes with Samantha and with a voice of whispered fury demanded, “Who did this? There is no claw mark over her face for nothing. Tell me whose blood I will paint the land red with. Tell me whose bones I’ll grind into ash and scatter in every cursed, rotten place!”

Samantha hesitated, and almost she drummed up some spontaneous lie. But she couldn’t, and she didn’t really know if it was fate or just her own weakness. “Demons… Naugite raiders.”

Scowling, Bast scoffed. “Raiders! No. If it is Naugites attacking the Crescent, then it’s that butcher, Zadkiel. Zadkiel is my mother’s murderer.” His teeth bared in a vicious snarl. “Not even gods are invincible. I’ll turn him inside out! He’ll die by my hand. I swear it.”

Shaking her head, Sammy said nothing. It was too early to call him a fool for thinking he could. He needed somewhere to direct the blame. Better him than her, that was for sure.

“Not as you are, boy,” Marjorie said with crisp admonition. “Perhaps you should consider leveling up in wizard another ten times before you conspire for vengeance, hmm?”

Bast grimaced sullenly but did not seem to have a counter. “Whatever it takes. And Samantha will bless my efforts. I won’t just be a wizard, Mother. I’ll wield the arcane in one hand, the divine in the other! He will perish by the destiny the Goddess of Fate grants me.”

Sammy tried not to wince, though she was glad to hear he wasn’t kicking her to the curb. “More importantly… remember that we have her soul. It is possible to put it in another body. To… resurrect her. Sort of. In-world reincarnation I guess.”

New hope and inspiration dawned in Bast’s eyes. He grabbed his mother’s shoulders. “Yes! I’ll make it my life’s work if I have to! Who better than the artist and spellmaker you trained to remake and restore you just as you were?” He touched her face, tracing the scars, frowning as anger returned to his eyes. “And this will be gone.”

Marjorie smiled indulgently but shook her head. “I’d prefer to keep the reminder. I’ve looked in the mirror a long time, here… gazed at it and realized that it is truth.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“You will. All in due time. But hush about it. You won’t get here or there in a day however you desire it.”

“Redberry may be able to help,” Samantha added. “If I can ever help her with her… memory issues. This is a large goal of mine, though, so we’re ultimately reaching for the same things. Small comfort for how daunting it all is, but it’s something.”

Bast agreed. “It is. With this, you are the giver of hope, Samantha… thank you, for saving her…” He looked away, melancholy settling in. “Is she here indefinitely? Or is there a time limit?”

This time, Sammy fully winced. She hadn’t wanted to drop the number on top of everything else. “Seven years. She’d reincarnate after.”

“Not long enough, and too long in here. We won’t lose her a second time.”

“No, we won’t.” Sammy was a bit afraid the subject might shift to how she could’ve been a Follower, but Bast did not immediately jump to it. She hoped he wouldn’t for a while. Blaming himself wouldn’t be good for him. “I would like to leave you two alone for a while. Let me know when you’re ready, Bast.”

To his distracted nod, Sammy left the Maze and returned her perspective back to her throne, in which she sat and thought for a while.

I hope he’s going to be okay…

A mirror floated over to her, etched with the image of the stately, elderly Jeeves, eyeing her with a note of sympathy, in his reserved, respectful way. “If I may ask, Your Majesty — how did it go?”

“About as well as can be expected, Jeeves.”

“I believe the young man will be quite alright, Madam. The soul is what really counts, after all. He still has his mother. To be ironic and dark about it, he’s technically closer now than he’d have been otherwise for a long time to come.”

“That is true… I had not really thought about it like that. Perhaps when the shock has worn off, it won’t be so bad.”

“Well, I hardly think he’ll be jumping ship, at least.”

“Very unlikely. He is determined and driven toward fixing the matter. New body for her. Vengeance as well. Of course.”

“Ah yes, revenge. The most manly of reactions to loss, no doubt. Perhaps the rest of us should take the cue. Shall I sound the horns, Madam? Fetch the warpaint? Possibly even rev up the Goddessmobile?”

They exchanged a brief smile, then Sammy said, “Only the most dire of situations calls for the Goddessmobile. Thanks for checking in, Jeeves. I appreciate it.”

He dipped his head. “It’s All Good, All the Time, Madam.”

She laughed. “Indeed it is.”

Meanwhile, Carlisle and Estara’s group made it to Mot Mekess, a walled city and great castle structure butted up on a river. Past the gates and down organized cobblestone roads they rode toward the primary tall fortress. The roofs of ancient houses were all painted in blue, red, or green, forming V’s above white-painted brick or wood structure. Many looked ancient. The entire city felt that way.

An aura of complete stasis. For the gentry, anyway.

While she still had the chance, Sammy contacted Marchioness Agatha. “Marchioness, good day to you. I had a special request for a gift for Merril if you happen to have one or can facilitate purchase.”

“Hello, Your Majesty. Yes, the feline boy? He’s been a wreck. I feel terrible for him. I had to have a talk with him when I heard he was trying to ‘pass’ on the knighting ceremony. Though he remained sullen, he abdicated relatively easily when I implored him to reconsider for the host of reasons he should. Anyway. What is it?”

Sammy sighed inwardly as she heard about his reluctance. He was still punishing himself for his forced retreat, she supposed. “A harp. He’s… obtained a penchant for it. If he’ll play, trust me, you’ll want to hear it.”

“He’s a harpist? How surprising! Well. I do think this calls for a special gift. Perhaps it will cheer him up. There was a minor, but special magical one that the old court bard owned. He died a few years ago. Was a dear friend to my husband and me. Without any legitimate descendants, his few possessions fell to me. I’ve kept it only for memories.”

“Wow. That- that sounds incredible. Are you sure that’s alright, though?”

“It is if he can play, Goddess. Better used like Chancey used it than collecting dust as an old woman’s conversation piece. Its only enchantments are durability, preservation of the delicate strings, and production of a slightly louder harmonic. It’s very portable despite not being a lyre. And beautiful. But I do hear it is not easy to use.”

“Trust me, he’ll get it. I really appreciate it, Agatha. Ah. By the way, when you have a private moment, let me share my real name and induct you as a full believer. I’m fairly certain that’s alright, now, and I want you in on all the primary information.”

“I’m happy to do so, Your Majesty. I’ll certainly have some suggestions for more inductees soon.”

“Good. I’ll need them. Otherwise, good luck with your day. And the ceremony. I’ll be watching.”

“This evening. I’m dead set on it and we sent word ahead for feast preparations, so it’s no surprise. Until later, Goddess.”

Sammy took a moment to appreciate the ongoing procession, which was literally announced from castle walls by trumpets and caused townsfolk to crowd the street on either side to see what the fuss was about.

She touched base with the other Followers around. Bob was another one that she needed to bring into the core. Estara was a bundle of excitement and wonder… She also mentioned she had another target for conversion though the mad dash to get to the city had stalled it. Dax was happy to hear about Merril getting a harp and they agreed it should be a surprise. Carlisle was anxious to ‘get it all over with’ so he could get home.

Otherwise, she left them to deal with meeting the nobility of Mot Mekess and settling in, knowing it would be a while before the ceremonies.

Bast indicated he was ready to exit, so she released him, immediately popping into the mirror still in his hand as he continued lying in the bed. They exchanged a look.

Sammy gave a weak, supportive smile, still not sure what his reaction would be. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” He took a deep breath, eyes shifting off thoughtfully. “At least I got the cry out in a purely mental realm. Less snot to deal with.”

“We’ll figure it out, Sebastian. I promise. We have a long time, and we’ll beat that by a wide margin. I know we will.”

He nodded slightly, then met her eyes. “Thank you for what you’ve done. If I hadn’t met you, if you knew nothing of us, events would mean that my mother would be wholly gone. Due to your efforts, she has this chance. She claims the phantom state is like retirement. I am not so sure… it seems lonely. She’ll need visitors often. And, perhaps a pet? Is that feasible?”

“Entirely. I will see to it.”

“Perfect… and books. Things to read. We can do the copying trick for a variety? I have my favorites with me.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Thank you again, Your Majesty.” He paused, regarding her in thoughtful consideration. “I couldn’t help but glean she has a strong tie to you. It wasn’t random for you to help her, was it? How could it be, for the Goddess of Fate?”

Sammy did not like where such a conversation would lead. “All that matters now is the future, Bast. Her misfortune shall be changed into something greater. As will yours.”

“She picked you out in a mirror… from one flash and moment, and I still remember her eyes, alarmed, curious, and seeking. I should’ve relented then… should’ve just had you appear and make her one of us. Then perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

Damn it. She knew he would disseminate exactly that. “Bast…” She trailed off, words failing her.

“It’s like you asked, Samantha. Do I trust you? I should have. What a price to pay… to learn such truth, to see the failure of faith and the lie of my own inadequate judgment. The price… of fear.”

Bast’s eyes welled with new tears, but behind them was dark fire. “I won’t pay it again. I’ll not be the fool again to doubt such convictions as yours! Where you say I must go, I go, and what to do, I do. You’ve rolled out the carpet to the halls of power I need and I will not stray from the threads you’ve woven. I am yours. I’ll bet on you… to life or death.”

And then beyond. The thought was an echo of her greater self — of the timeless entity. She looked into Bast’s eyes and she saw the utter truth of his words. It frightened her. Because all had conspired to the inevitable end before her.

You are my Hound of Fate, the will made tangible, the wild fury and chaos held at bay, waiting to be unleashed. Passion to be honed into the brushstrokes of reality’s paint and blood upon the Grand Work.

You are my Chariot.

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« (Vol 2) Chapter 20 | Table of Contents | (Vol 2) Chapter 22: In Order to Ascend... »

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Note: Next chapter has a sheet. Also, definitely more thought to what happens at the end here, don't worry!

Comments

On the other hand as a goddess of fate should she preserve them or should she simply let them pass on to be accepted as followers once more in their next life. I wonder if she'll be able to influence the reincarnation the where and who of her followers and possibly even if they keep their memories if so that would be quite the reward for her followers to keep more of their memories or know they will stay in their world and stuff like that.

Tekbox

It's definitely a thought I had... it's already more his inspiration to be a powerful wizard than the 'side gig' of the arts and bardistry. He's another representation of the theme of having a face as one thing, a core of another, hidden truths behind a veneer.

Rain Harlow

Gotta say, I like this chapter alot. On the one hand Bast now has a much more serious bent, his fopishness is about to become a cover for the utter badass beneath. And on the other hand, he has a clear goal in life. Reviving his mother in a new body and destroying Zad.

Fortunis

Definitely something to consider. All of the 'shouldn't you think about the afterlife' type comments are super valid! If she can snag something that deals with that along with some of her other goals, that might be ideal. She will likely be considering things carefully, probably end up picking Red's brain again, when the time gets closer.

Rain Harlow

Well the most expedient option would be to pick up a domain over spirits, that would handily give Samantha the opportunity to bind Marjorie to her on a permanent basis. Perhaps as a servitor of her spiritual aspect? It would certainly open the way for her to preserve her followers after death via a combination of mazes and spirit-sworn oaths.

Venerable Ro


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