(Vol 2) Chapter 13: Salvaging What's Squandered

“What the hell is he doing? Why am I feeling this? Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Sammy popped back into her primary throne realm, stuck with an awful feeling in her gut. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to channel through her Intuition ability. But it was like sailing an ocean for a problem island. She had too many variables, too many potentials to pare down into a proper guess. The other aspect, the hunch effect, was what she was already getting.

And it was getting worse. She was running out of time.

Fucking hell, I have to figure out someth- yes!

“Sys! I want a tarot deck, which will work with my abilities related to it… and I want the images used to be variable and interpretative to my Intuition. Tied to Fate.”

Acknowledged. It has been created and 1 FE has been deducted.

A deck flashed into existence in her hand, with cardbacks showing her pyramid and cult symbols. She closed her eyes and began shuffling the cards, going by inspiration.

Technically, there was nothing overt in her abilities about using it on herself. She couldn’t ‘Grant Prayer’ to herself directly. But it was wrapped up in her core identity through Fate. It was core to her across the entirety of time.

“I am wound into the purpose of the past, I am the heart of the future, and I will it to reveal this doom as the Fortuneteller.”

She flung a card up from the deck to float in the air, spinning rapidly horizontally until it stopped on a dime, revealing a card face.

The Magician, as a beautiful woman in the finest of robes and jewelry. She was holding a glowing magic wand up as if in fear or defense as shadows with slanted eyes were surrounding her. The infinity symbol above her head had a break in it, transformed into something like a rapidly deteriorating fuse. Her hair was brown, in a mass of curls.

Immediately, Sammy knew. Bast’s mother. ‘Marjorie’ she’d heard at some point.

New Quest unlocked: “A Spell Too Late?” — Discover the incident in time and save Marjorie.
● Rewards: +50 FE, 5 exp in [Goddess], 1-5 exp credit to most relevant sub-class used during quest.

When she drew up the mirror she’d once seen her would-be Follower look into — the mirror she’d avoided spying in, the mirror she had to push away — she regarded a scene of horror and chaos. Screaming and sounds of battle. A few hideous demonic bodies were injured and writhing on the floor, dealt wounds by magic.

Vaguely, the thought materialized: Zadkiel sneak attacked Kenstrom, another key part of the Southern Shores-

On the far wall, there she was, surrounded by four more wicked, winged creatures, horned devils black as night. She was torn up and her face had been cut as if by a claw, one eye sliced, and two spears had already been driven into her, an obvious counterattack from her last stand. Blood spurted from her mouth and in even one more moment, she’d be gone.

But to Samantha’s presence in the mirror, the final gaze once more locked — one last time was reflected that shadow of fate as it should’ve been.

Already grieved, breath caught in shock and terror for what she saw, Sammy did all that she could in that instant, all that was left of her to do. She Mazed her.

In that state, Marjorie was only going to resist — and with a stubborn, strong will at that — so Sammy utilized her Alter Fate ability in that moment, to force her to fail it. As it was entirely mental, there was no telltale sign of it happening.

Sammy dropped her into a Maze that was simply her bed in her room, with no one in it. The noblewoman shot up almost immediately in alarm, whirling around, making frantic noises, touching the ‘wounds’ at her gut and face. The former was gone, of course…

Oddly, her face was still scarred as if by a claw, one eye cloudy as though blind. She called out, “Who’s there?! Who are you?!”

Meanwhile, her body in the real world was stabbed again and again, before the demons finally moved away, some back out through a busted door to a balcony.

Sammy had to deliberately fight down her loathing, disgust, and sheer horror to focus on the task at hand. She formed a commanding version of her own voice within the Maze. “You need to listen to me. Do not resist further, or your mind will be gone. Your body is dead. I am trying to preserve you… somehow.”

Marjorie had a kind of hysterical laugh as she was spinning around trying to locate the source of the voice. She shook her head. “Why should I listen to you?! Tricks of some demon to take my soul!”

The sorceress ran out onto the balcony… to just a sky like a void, above and below, as though the room floated upon nothing. Sammy had not had time to fashion the castle grounds and city…

Sighing, running out of time, knowing her ‘quarry’s’ mind was still in a resisting state, Sammy appeared right in Marjorie’s face — appeared just as she was, crown and all. Grabbing the woman by the shoulders, she all but yelled, “Because I’m the eyes in the mirror! A goddess and muse of your son, your precious bird Sebastion! Don’t resist, please!”

Right on the heels of her words, the time limit came up, and the shocked, despairing woman could resist and likely break it if she wanted — break it and be gone forever.

Eyes staring right into Samantha’s, she yielded.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sammy created a chair to sit down in, as some needed some gesture of calming influence. “Thank you.” She then made another chair behind Marjorie and pushed it forward to scoop and plop the noblewoman down into it with a yelp.

Marjorie’s hands went to the chair arms as if she might immediately rise, but she stopped short, staring over at Samantha. She said nothing for that spell of time.

“There will be one more resistance opportunity in a minute,” Sammy offered. “Let it happen and you have up to seven years here. Again, the alternative is reincarnation through the System.”

“Where is here?” Marjorie asked, glancing at the great void of blue sky.

“A Mirror Maze realm, some separate mental dimension for your psyche. I can do it to enemies, but I can also use it for… this. I guess.”

“What will happen to me? Can I be returned?”

Sammy shook her head in uncertainty and looked away because she flatly didn’t know. At best, it sounded completely miraculous to arrange.

Bast… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have listened to you… against my instincts… There are consequences for rejecting Fate and now we all suffer… I must never do it again. I must. Never. Do it. Again.

The final resistance of her captive came up with a warble through the realm, and — not without fear and hesitation — Marjorie neglected to resist.

The quest “A Spell Too Late?” has failed. Partial credit for salvaging a psyche: 11 FE gained. 1 exp gained in [Goddess]. 1 exp gained in [Wizard].

With a deep breath, the queenly sorceress Marjorie leaned back in her chair, eyes angled upward. “I am truly… dead, then. It happened so fast. Winged demons.” She had a long, sober pause, but then finally sniffed derisively. “I’ve never seen their ilk before, and so many. Insane. A raid directly in our lands already. Taking advantage of this darker trouble, I suppose…”

This woman is tough as hell… she’s taking being dead in stride. Or maybe she’s still in shock?

Samantha shook her head. “It’s not a raid, Marjorie. It’s the Demon King Zadkiel.”

Marjorie’s eyes returned to the goddess, squinting. “I assumed he was a myth. Are you sure?”

Samantha had a bitter laugh at that. “Oh, I assure you I am. He’s bringing war. Conquering. He’s taken Merrington, is taking Heimus as we speak. Maybe your land? I’m not sure. I need to check, soon.”

“He’s mad. The Dominion cannot be defeated by his like. He’d need a whole pantheon of hims, I’d assume. Though I suppose I am no expert on gods.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Marjorie studied Samantha, bit by bit. Recognition seemed to deepen. “I’ve seen you in my dreams. Your face, at least. I’ve heard your voice…”

Samantha felt absolutely awful. Like an utter failure. So much wasted potential… “I’m sorry, Marjorie. I wasn’t in time. You were supposed to be mine. Your son, he… he didn’t want you to be endangered… I…” She just shook her head, unable to continue, but her eyes were utterly held by the imposing woman across from her.

Marjorie's intense, haunted gaze held Samantha’s as she absorbed it all, felt it all. Her eyes brimmed with tears though none fell. She swallowed and said faintly, “Yes… yours. You speak truth. In the night, a need, a reaching for something I couldn’t grasp… taunted by a gossamer thread floating free and hidden somewhere in the void…”

She lifted a hand up as if catching something intangible to lay in it. “... perhaps a strand of your hair, Goddess. A little part of you, hidden from me, lost… yet always there. Teasing to whom it led.” Her hand dropped and her eyes broke away.

Sammy did not have the willpower or seasoned steel of the woman across from her, despite the former being a goddess and the latter being a mortal, and the sympathetic pain she felt for that loss drove deeper than perhaps it should have.

Tears poured from Sammy’s eyes in mourning and misery. It just wasn’t right, it wasn’t what was supposed to be, and she could wave no magic wand to make it so.

Feeling a touch confused by the intense grief, Sammy shook her head and exclaimed, “I haven’t been here even two weeks! Why does it… feel…”

Marjorie’s beautiful, marred face was painted with conflict. “I’ve dreamt of you since I was a child, Goddess. Sometimes mother, sometimes sister, later a daughter… so many things, all confused together, none of them fully true, none of them measuring to the weight of the hidden truth… which I now see before me, too late.”

Sammy shook her head in disbelief, though some part of her knew it as another… deeper, mysterious connection. “I’m a Transplant… I came here through a coin from a world with no System. I don’t understand why or how I could have any such connections…”

Once more, Marjorie studied Samantha. “What is your name, Goddess?”

“Samantha. Goddess of Mirrors, Illusion, and… Fate.”

“Fate is the past and future of souls… the patterns they make across a vast tableau most cannot see even the merest stitching of. You have the potential to see it all.” She squinted her eyes in thought. “I’ve never heard of a deity of Fate. Luck, Fortune, yes. I’d assume that particular word illegal. The province of the System alone, the choosing denied or shifted to another.”

“I didn’t choose it. I simply had it from the beginning… unknowingly. When I figured it out in an epiphany, I simply told the System to fully unlock it and reveal it.”

“You told the System that, and it did it?” Marjorie was shocked. She laughed in a brief cough. “From ‘the beginning’ you say. But I surmise you don’t know the actual beginning. Who does? Yet we sense the complexity of More To It, hmm? You and me here now, between the two of us. Even this. Do we not have some other beginning?”

Sammy could only shake her head in uncertainty. But also, watching and listening to Marjorie, she felt such warmth and fondness. Admiration. And this made tears bubble up again. “I’m so sorry, Marjorie… I failed you… I didn’t listen to the things I’m sure you would have… I’ve killed you! It’s my fault!”

Face calm, unreadable, Marjorie gazed a long moment back at tear-filled eyes, then rose. She slowly walked over, and Sammy was ready for some attack, a slap perhaps — something she’d accept — but the woman dropped to her knees by the chair, and, after pulling out something from her pocket, reached a hand with a handkerchief to dry Sammy’s tears in both eyes.

Then she placed the rather fancy-looking piece of cloth into Sammy’s hands and wrapped her own around them, meeting the younger woman’s eyes insistently. “It is not your fault, Goddess. Do not take away the wrong from murderers just because you failed to stay the blade or buttress the slain. I’ve lived an easy and privileged life and my own first and true love is already gone. This?”

Marjorie looked around with a faint smile. “This just looks like an early retirement.”

All but entirely calmed by Marjorie’s comforting gestures, Sammy still shook her head slightly. “It is so much potential squandered… it’s just awful… and Bast…”

“Sebastion will endure… my sweet boy… already flown away and just in time. Truly one of yours, then, to have such strange coalescence of luck. If you look after him, if you watch over him and keep him safe… I am as happy here as anywhere.”

“I will, Marjorie. I swear to you I will. And I will ensure his dreams come true. Well… most of them.”

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