Sooner

Part VIII is up. It's long... sorry.

Part VIII

The following occurs after Cydney’s friend the Peacebringer Ahren was captured by The Shades of Vengeance. He was beaten and tortured daily by Conall Cian while there, and eventually the Kheldian was ripped from him. He survived and later managed to escape - Sooner

A plane....
Cydney closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable in the cramped space of her airplane seat. The roar of the engines covered the casual chatter and the fussy baby complaints behind her, but could do nothing for the roar of anxiety in her heart. One of her dearest friends in Paragon City had gone missing and there was little doubt he was in serious trouble. Ahren, handsome, full of laughter and energy, had been her friend and teammate almost as long as she’d been in Paragon City. He’d casually announced he was headed to the Rogue Isles, lifted into the air on a bright flair of Kheldian energy, and flew away. It had been weeks - and there’d been no word. She and her fellow Ghosts had searched every contact, every rumor. Nothing.

She couldn't give up hope, but she didn’t know what else to do. Then, last night, her mother called.

“Cyd! You have to come home!”

“Mom?” Cyd pulled the phone away and stared at it in surprise. “Mom, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened to Caryn! I felt it!”

“Oh no! Is she OK?”

“Cydney, I don’t KNOW! I can’t reach her, I can’t find her. I just know something bad happened to her, and now she’s vanished.”

Cydney glanced around the base, home to her friends and her supergroup and hesitated. “Mom, I don’t know if I can leave... there’s a problem...”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. UPS 2.2, a strong, solid presence stood behind her. “Sooner, there’s nothing more you can do for Ahren here, and it seems your family needs you. Go home.”

“But, what if we learn something about him?”

“We’ll call you if we learn anything. You could use the break. Go."

She nodded, and mouthed “Thank you,” as she lifted the phone again. “Mom, I’m on my way home now.”

But instead of distracting her from her worry for her friend, she just added a new worry for her sister. Still, it was nice to be just Cydney Nation - one person in a sea of faces making her way through the crowds as the holidays approached. No one expected anything from her except that she not leave her bags unattended at the gate.

A brief layover and two uneventful flights later brought her to Tulsa International and a reunion with her mother.

“She’s on her way here now,” Colleen said. “I still don’t know what happened, but she’s ok, and on her way home. I... ah... felt it when she started pulling magic. Like I did with you.”

Cydney glanced at her mother, “You still haven’t told them, have you?”

Colleen was silent for a long time as she drove. Finally, she said, “Tonight. Cerise will be home, Caryn will be there. I’ll tell them tonight.”

---
Caryn successfully postponed her last two finals after displaying the documents from her visit to Norman Regional Hospital. The doctors there had been amazed at how well her bruising had responded to overnight care and released her the following morning. She then managed to finagle a ride from a friend driving to Tulsa by offering to buy lunch and split the gas.

She arrived at her mother’s brick split-level home after dark. The lights were on in the lower level, the family room. She grabbed her duffel out of the back seat, thanked her friend profusely and trotted to the door, still wincing at the aches and pains that had stiffened up during the long car ride. She opened the door with a smile, tossed her duffel inside, and called out, “Mom! Cerise! I’m home!”

A quick stop in the kitchen and she scored a diet coke and a handful of Oreos, then she trotted down the steps to the family room. The scene that met her eyes was so familiar that for just a moment, she didn’t react to her missing super hero sister sitting there with her mother drinking tea.

Caryn stopped dead in her tracks. “Cydney?” she breathed, just as Cydney and her mother both jumped to their feet.

“Caryn! What happened to you?” her mother asked.

Cyd vaulted the couch and reached for Caryn asking, “Who did this to you?”

---
Cerise Nation was supposed to be studying AP Chemistry in her room. She loved her room, even though she knew it was really too young for her. It was all pink lace and stuffed animals, a little girl’s room, but she wasn’t ready to change it into a grown up room yet. It was hers, and she supposed that was most of what she liked about it. She could hardly imagine either of her tomboy sisters even stepping into this room, much less living here.

She was supposed to be studying, but instead had dozed off over her chemistry book, so it would have made more sense for her to be dreaming about carbon bonds and valences, but instead, she dreamed of a pretty girl wearing in a bright wool dress with the bodice laced up over a white shirt. Her reddish hair was done up in ringlets with ribbons. She appeared far away, as if at the end of a long tunnel, and glided gracefully toward Cerise. When she was closer, green grass, tall leafy trees covered with tangles of some sort of ivy, and wildflowers expanded from her steps until they were surrounded by a open field in the sunlight. In the distance was a rustic village with smoke rising from the chimneys. It was beautiful.

The girl smiled sadly at Cerise, “It’s almost time,” she said, her voice lilting with an Irish accent.

Dream Cerise lifted her head and stood to face her visitor. “Time for what?” she asked.

“Time for you to face The Beast.”

Cerise felt a wave of dread. “I don’t want to.”

“Too late for that,” the girl said. “Too late as soon as you drew your first breath.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You must trust your enemy. Listen to me, Cerise. Even though he will kill you, you must trust him.”

“Kill me! What?” Cerise shook her head and tried to wake up. She didn’t like this dream any more.

“Here. You will need these.” The dream girl gestured and a pair of shimmering blades made of pure red light appeared in her hands. She tossed them up into the air, and...

Cerise awoke with a start. She pushed herself off up off the thick chemistry text and frowned as the dream fragmented. “Trust an enemy who will kill me?” she repeated softly.

She stood, stretched, and turned to face her room. And there on her bed -atop the pink comforter, between an over-stuffed bunny and a unicorn with an elaborate mane and tail - lay a pair of red glowing blades. Cerise let out a little shriek... and they vanished. She reached out her hand toward where they had rested on the bed, and shook her head. Just the dream lingering on, she decided. But then, as she reached her hands out to smooth the covers on the bed, they reappeared. In her hands.

Just then, her mother’s voice echoed up the stairs, “Cerise! Please come down!”

---
Colleen Nation sat at the table in the cozy family room surrounded by trophies and pictures of her family. She let her eyes travel over the shelves, starting with Cydney, then Caryn, then Cerise. She smiled nostalgically at her own, and then again when her eyes found Daniel’s picture, the one of him in his Marine uniform, a handsome smiling man. She still missed him. Such a special man for his life to be cut so short, such a wonderful man to never get to meet the remarkable women his daughters had become.

Those daughters sat across from her. A line of music ran through her head, and she smiled sadly. Celach the strong, Cahan the swift, Carra the fair. Collen reached out and grasped Cydney and Caryn’s hands and, as was their tradition, Cyd and Caryn each took one of Cerise’s hands.

“Girls, we have to talk.” Collen said. “I had hoped it wasn’t true. Your grandmother certainly didn’t believe it, which is likely why I never heard much about it until my grandmother came over from Ireland.”

Colleen fell silent and Caryn fidgeted in her seat, finally leaning forward to ask, “Mom? I don’t know what you mean.”

Cydney glanced at her mother, then spoke, “Car’, you remember that song that Granny taught us when she was here? That we used to sing?”

Cerise smiled, and broke into song. Her alto was light and pretty and well suited to the lilting folk melody,

“To the clan ó Floinn The Beast came, covetous and greedy.
The evil craved the light of the daughters ó Floinn greatly.
To work its most foul will on the world it would steal their might.
But ó Floinn would not surrender, the warriors joined the fight.

The brave men ó Floinn...

...I can’t remember the rest...” Cerise finished.

“Yes, that’s the one,” Colleen said with a smile. “It’s the story of an evil monster that attacked one of the septs of ó Floinn because there was magic in the women of the clan. No one could stand against it until the three daughters - Celach, Cahan, and Carra - joined together against it...

Cochran ó Floinn pushed herself up slowly. Her head rang and the earth under her fingers swirled gently to her right. She would have appreciated the opportunity to rest there awhile, but that was not to be. She heard one of her daughters cry out in pain and that gave her the strength to finally push herself back to her feet.

Celach, Cochran's eldest daughter, was dressed in a man’s tight trews and a léine, while her plain wool mantle lay torn and bloody in the earth behind her. Her strawberry blond hair was worn in a long pleat down her back and tucked into her belt. Celach blazed with magic, and her face, while bruised and bloodied, was still determined. Cahan stood just behind Celach’s right shoulder. She wore a similar outfit, though she’d retained her mantle. She limped from a wound that tore open her right thigh from hip to knee, but she still stared defiantly at their enemy. In a fit of frustration, she’d cut her own red hair off at the shoulders and it flared in bright curls around her face. Carra, the youngest, still wore her pretty wool dress from the handfasting ceremony, though its bright colors were stained with blood and dirt, and she’d lost the dainty slippers. Her hair was pulled up into a fiery cascade of tendrils and curls, an intricate design that had held up remarkably well to the fight. Her pretty face was fierce and angry, ravaged by grief, and she held a pair of magically glowing blades ready.

Cochran’s daughters faced off against the The Beast, Ciara Banenighe, a demoness that had terrorized their clan for years. Only this spring had they finally realized that it craved the magic that ran through the women of the ó Floinn clan. Cochran’s mother and aunts had already been taken. Cochran and her daughters were the last of the maternal line of the ó Floinn’s, and with that realization, the clan had concocted a plan. The cost of that plan was already higher than any of them had expected, but for the ó Floinn clan to survive, they had to succeed.

The demoness was tall, with red skin, flaming eyes, enormous leathery wings, and an aggressively female body. She was dressed in little more than leather straps that showed off her form. She hovered just off the ground, her clawed feet and hands bloody from the damage she’d already done and her eyes blazing with her eagerness for more.

Poor, sweet Carra had never had a chance to mourn her Aedan. She had witnessed his death at the hand of the demoness and then been called straight into this life or death struggle. Cochran understood her youngest’s frustrated grief, but the whole clan was counting on her now.

The frozen moment hung in the air until Carra suddenly pointed one of her shining blades in a direct challenge. The demoness laughed, a slow hauntingly mocking sound. Cochran pushed herself to her feet, willing Carra to be strong enough to finish this. The demoness roared and belched fire. The flames spread out in an arc and smashed into Cochran’s daughters, knocking them all flying back.

Celach climbed to her feet first. “Let us finish this.” Her voice was calm as she reached her right hand out to Cahen and her left to Carra. As their hands met, a deep red light suddenly flared around them. All three cried out in surprise, but when their hands parted, they continued to glow like three tall torches.

Celach bellowed a war cry and charged the Beast first. Her fists struck like a hammer, pounding the demon again and again. As the monster in female form reeled back under that onslaught, Cahan darted in. She added her own strength to Celach’s. The demon could not harm the glowing women, no matter how it tried. It roared furiously, but Celach and Cahan drove after it relentlessly. Carra was waiting, her face dark with grief. Cochran called out to her, “Carra, you must! You must help them!”

At the sound of Cochran’s voice, Ciara Banenighe broke free of her attackers and swooped down on Cochran. Ciara grabbed her, clutching her up and taking her chin in one clawed hand. Cochran let out one startled shriek, cried out, “Don’t stop, my daughters! You must finish--” she broke off as the clawed fingers flexed and punctured her cheek.

“Stop there, or I end this one now,” Ciara growled.

Celach cocked her head. “You’ll kill her anyway, and us as well.”

The beast laughed, “Perhaps.” she shrugged. “If you stop now, I will kill this one quickly. If not, I will give her to my imps. She will beg for death for a very long time before it comes to her.”

Cochran couldn’t speak, but she shook her head even as she quailed inside at the threat.

Celach was moving, and Cahan with her. They did not approach, instead they moved to the side, turning Ciara away from the village. And, Cochran realized, away from Carra.

“But you want us,” Celach said. “You want her daughters. You don’t want her.”

“I want all of you.” Ciara acknowledged. She made an elaborate show out of sniffing Cochran’s hair. “The power... is intoxicating. I must take it.”

Cochran couldn’t stop a terrified whimper, and she saw her two eldest daughters both wince at the sound. Sweet Cahan stepped forward. “Please, do not hurt our mother.”

“Give yourselves to me,” Ciara demanded, her triumph ringing in her voice. “Let me take all three of you, and she can go free.”

Cochran shook her head, as well as she could, but Cahan obligingly dropped to her knees there in the damp earth. Celach hesitated, appearing torn, but then her green eyes flicked - for just a moment - over Ciara’s shoulder, and Cochran remembered what the demon had forgotten: poor grieving Carra.

Ciara realized her danger just a moment too late. She dropped Cochran and whirled. Cochran scrambled away, looking back over her shoulder to see her youngest daughter, glowing with power, plunge both her magical weapons into the demoness’s chest. Ciara screamed, an outraged, pained sound and struck ineffectually at Carra. Cahan leapt to her feet and she and Celach both charged in as Carra, screaming out the name, ‘Aedan!” plunged her weapons through the demon’s red skin again and again.

With a furious cry, Ciara gestured and ripped open a portal to her home. She barely managed to brush off her attackers and crawl through. Once there, Ciara took the opportunity to curse her attackers from the safety of her elaborate throne room deep inside a complex of corridors and tunnels.

The sisters wasted no time with threats. Each of them carried a pouch on her belt, and contained in that pouch was a cabochon sphere. Each of them held a sphere in one hand, and their sister’s shoulder with the other, so they formed a triangle as they began to chant the phrases they had been taught. The shimmering red power flared around them and flowed into the spheres. Ciara let out a furious scream of denial as her magical prison began to form and then close around her. The sisters kept up the chant until the three spheres glowed with all the power that had flowed into them. As one, they turned to the portal and flung the spheres inside. Ciara screamed furiously one last time, and then the portal slammed shut.

The sisters sank to their knees, holding onto each other for strength. Celach raised her head and spoke. “There can never again be three sisters born to ó Floinn,” she reminded her sisters...

Colleen finished the story, “They defeated it, then gave up all their power to imprison it. But the prison would only hold if there were never three sisters born to the ó Floinn clan again.”

“I remember that part...” Cerise said, and sang again,

“With the last of their magic and power The Beast dread they bound.
A solemn pact by the daughters ó Floinn made to seal The Beast down.
Never again would three sisters born to the line ó Floinn ever be.
This pledge the clan made lest The Beast once again roam free.”

Colleen nodded, “Exactly. Never again would three sisters born to the line ó Floinn ever be.” She smiled at her three wonderful daughters. Strong, intelligent, good young women. Their father would have been proud to know them. “The story goes that for centuries women of ó Floinn would stop lying with their husbands after they gave birth to a second daughter. A particularly dark story is of a young woman with two daughters who discovered she was pregnant again and took her own life rather than risk a third daughter.”

Cydney knew what her mother was talking about, knew the truth of it, and she was gazing down sadly at their linked hands. Caryn’s face was going dark with suspicion, and Cerise - still a teen - appeared to be trying to hide her impatient hope that her mother would get to the point soon.

She sighed. “When Cerise was born, and nothing happened, I laughed it off as a silly family legend. But... then Cydney...”

Cyd shifted in her chair, “Then I began messing around with magic. And mom knew. And now Caryn...”

Caryn’s head dropped. “Ya. That’s what it was. That’s what happened to me. Magic.”

“Why isn’t the beast free, then?” Cydney asked. “Here we are, three sisters. Born to the maternal line.”

“There must be more to it,” Caryn said. “Maybe if Cerise never starts using magic it will all be OK?”

Colleen shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it, I think there’s more we don’t know,” Colleen smiled at her youngest daughter. “Until we do know more, my darlin girl, do you think you can stay away from using magic?”

Cerise looked up at her mother, at her sisters. She smiled, and stepped back, drawing her hands away from her sisters. “I’m sorry, mom,” She turned her palms out, gestured, and a pair of blades made of pure glowing red light appeared in her hands. "It's too late for that."

---
Deep inside her prison, Ciara let out a triumphant laugh as the last cabochon developed a tiny flaw deep inside. That tiny flaw meant that she WOULD be free. When the last of the three died, the pact would be over, and Ciara would be free. And any remaining members of the clan ó Floinn would be grateful when she finally allowed them to die.

---
The Nation women talked long into the night. They didn’t understand why the prophecy hadn’t come to pass, but they all came to believe in its truth. And the only thing they could really agree to do was to continue to try to learn and understand and to live their lives until they know what that prophecy required them to do.

Cerise had headed for bed already, but dawn was coloring the sky as Colleen, Cydney, and Caryn finally started preparing for sleep. And that was when Cyd’s cell phone shattered the solemn silence.

UPS’s deep voice, sounding unusually strained greeted her, “Sooner! It’s Ahren. He’s home. He’s made it home.”

She gasped, “Oh! Is he ok?”

The long pause broke her heart before UPS finally answered, “He’s home, Sooner. He will be ok.”

Talk to Mordin. Ask him about art.

.... I almost choked.

Well, if Vega's not there, I can step in as MM lead, if ya like.

If he makes it, the team's all his.

I do think, once I'm over my ME2 infatutaion, I may pick up Assassin's Creed II.

Sammy says:



....I know, I know... I'm slow, and it was a weak attempt, but.. ya know... I'm really trying.... *goes and hides in corner*

I'm just about to finish the last loyalty mission. Then I'll try exploring the local cluster.

I have decided that "scanning" is my least favorite thing in the game. Slow, boring, and frustrating.

other than that, beautiful, awesome, amazing.

I'm glad I checked this thread just now.

I was going to be LATE!

Should be there with my MMs.

Part VIII is up, as well as a brief interlude reposted from another story.

Part VIII
One week later
Akando waited patiently in the shadows. Dark magic oozed off his body, creating even more shadows and shielding the trio of Ciara’s imps that skulked in the darkness with him. He glanced at his watch. His target would be getting out of her evening class very soon. She should be alone, and headed for the CARTs. He would use the same approach that had worked so well on her sister. The imps would attack and frighten her into seeking his help, and then he would guide her into the dark powers. And his mistress would be one step closer to freedom and to granting him his reward.

He spied his quarry as she trudged across the South Oval. Her attitude was dejected, her shoulders slumped, her head down, her tall, slender frame hunched over and withdrawn. She stared at the ground, lost in her own world. She would be an easy target, he thought with a smile. He’d let the imps frighten her, hurt her, taste her blood, then move in to help her. It would be perfect, and she’d turn to him for his help and guidance.

As she crossed in front of him, he started to gesture the imps forward, then movement caught his eye. Approaching from behind Caryn, a pair of figures. The man he recognized as the troublesome boyfriend, the woman.... the woman was dressed up like... an insane ******. She wore a bustier and panties, stockings, high heeled shoes with big bows all in colors like a neon Easter egg. Her blonde hair was done up in tight ringlets and trailed ribbons and bows. Her face was hidden behind an expressionless ceramic mask. As the boyfriend approached Caryn, the woman hid herself from sight - a remarkable feat given her costume. Akando held up a hand, halting the imps, and faded back, waiting to see what would happen.

---
Caryn walked to the CART stop in a miserable haze. Ben had ruined everything. She’d given him her heart, her trust, and he’d dumped her for that blonde. She couldn’t seem to get past that. It seemed she lived in that moment when he denied there was another woman, and the moment that he walked away from her and climbed into the Corvette. Over and over again. And now.. Now she’d made a C on her final and that would certainly cost her the A in the class, and that could cost her Magnacum Laude, especially since she knew her grades were wavering in all her classes.

A scuffing sound penetrated her misery, and she turned to see Ben striding purposefully toward her.

“No, forget it, Ben!” she said. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

She was turning her back on him, and didn’t see his fist as it slammed into the side of her head. She crumpled, completely stunned. She’d taken the occasional glancing blow in spars, when someone didn’t pull their punch right, or she’d leaned into it, so she thought she knew what it felt like to take a punch, but she was wrong. It was as if her brain had turned off for a moment in shock. She was too stunned to react, and was still down, shaking her head when he bent to punch her again, his fist connecting solidly with her jaw. She went flat on her back, tasting blood from her split lip and bitten tongue. The part of her brain concerned with survival was starting to wake up, though, and she twisted away from a brutal kick that ended up just grazing her hip. She rolled to hands and knees and scrambled frantically away as he kicked again, this time aiming for her belly.

She made it to her feet and took a shaky stance. Her conscious brain was still struggling with the idea that Ben had just hit her, but her body knew what to do. He plowed towards her, swinging wildly, and she recognized that he was depending on brute force, but little skill. She easily danced away from him, a forearm block deflected the only blow that came close.

“What are you DOING, you *******!” she yelled once she got her breath back.

He was muttering under his breath he moved into her again, and she got a chill as realized there was no emotion on his face at all. It was completely blank, like he wasn’t even there. “You dared to touch me.” he mumbled. “You’ll pay. You’ll pay for laying your hands on me. Your face won’t be so pretty once I’m done with it. See how many men you’ll attract with no teeth and a crooked nose, you little *****.” He just kept coming towards her, and she kept backing away, too confused, too stunned to do more than circle around him and try to make sense of it. His angry mumbled rant confused her and wounded her heart. His wild swings and clumsy lunges were nothing like the athletic, graceful man she thought she’d known. Of course, the man she’d thought she knew would never have ever taken a swing at her.

“Ben! Stop it!” she yelled, backing even more. “Stop!” She wanted to get into the light and on solid footing, but he kept moving to push her back onto the soft, damp earth.

“Finish her!” he muttered suddenly, “quit playing and finish the *****.” with that he charged her. She danced backwards, blocking his wild punches easily until his fist manage to smash into her ribs. She flinched and her foot landed on a protruding root. Her ankle twisted with a sharp pain, and she crumpled. She rolled frantically on the cold, damp earth, but it wasn’t fast enough. He landed on her like a linebacker. She squirmed and fought, but he was bigger and stronger than she was, and she couldn’t get her arms free to fight back. His fists plowed into her face again and again, until she was too stunned to move. He rose off her then, and all she could do was curl up into a tight ball of pain as he started using both fists and feet on her.

She drifted, as if she were separating into two people: one above the pain and betrayal, the other living it - or perhaps dying from it. She lifted into a world of swirling colors, like a swarm of fireflies with glowing contrails. Red, blue, yellow, soothing green, purple, throbbing orange, deep midnight indigo, purest white and darkest black. It was beautiful. She reached out a hand for it, vaguely aware that when her body did the same, a heavy booted heel crushed that hand into the mud. The colors swirled closer, as if curious about her. She felt herself starting to fade, she saw the colors start to dim and flare in a rhythm like a heart beat... like her own slowing heart beat. Her drifting self felt a moment of fear, and a moment of longing for help. And in that moment, the colors swarmed into her. She felt her spirit swelling with power. And determination.

She plunged back into her own pain-filled body, and opened her eyes to see her body glowing. She could see the magic pouring into her, powering her, healing her, making her stronger. A heavy fist was coming for her again, but it was moving in slow motion. She easily dodged away from it, and had all the time in the world to get to her feet again. She ducked back from one wild swing, and dodged underneath other. Then, as he overbalanced, she stepped quickly towards him and snapped a kick into his belly. As he doubled over, she lifted a knee into his face and felt his nose crunch. He straightened again, and she twisted, planting her foot right onto his knee. She felt the power of that kick drive his knee back. He dropped then, but was still coming for her. He was like a wild animal, a robot, with one goal: to hurt her. But he was injured now, and she was filled with strength.

He lumbered to his feet and lurched after her again. The limp was slowing him down, but he was still focused on her and driving relentlessly after her. She took out his other knee and he fell.

“Oh, you wretched little *****. I hate you.” he said in that horrifying monotone.

She paused, stunned. Even after everything, even after this attack, it still shook her to hear him say he hated her. He took advantage by lunging forward and grabbing her around the knees. He pulled, trying to get her on the ground again, and she responded by slamming her fists into his ears. His head dropped back and she finished the fight by smashing her elbow into his jaw. He dropped like she’d hit an off switch. She stood ready over him, ready if he moved again, still rushing with the power filled her. After a long moment, she stepped back.

“Goodbye, Ben,” she said. She turned and jogged away toward the CART stop.

---
A slow, fierce, triumphant smile parted Ciara’s full lips as the second glowing cabochon flared. She pushed against the magical barrier and laughed as her clawed hands sank into it.

She picked up the last of the three spheres and stroked it. “Soon,” she crooned. “So soon.”

---
Akando stepped out of the shadows as the strangely dressed woman ran to the fallen man and began kicking him.

“Stupid, worthless man!” she hissed. “Waste of time, waste of flesh! Couldn’t even beat up one defenseless woman!”

“I owe you thanks,” Akando said.

She looked up at him, her expression hidden by the mask, but her eyes were filled with frustrated fury. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“I want to thank you. You have done me a kindness.”

She straightened. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome. Now get lost.”

He shrugged. “What will become of the boy?”

She kicked him again, and he let out a low moan. “He can die for all I care. I was going to make him one of ours, but he failed me.”

“Let me take him, then. My mistress might have some use for him.”

She laughed, a beautiful, musical, crystalline laugh. “Take him. I’m done with him.”

The imps skittered forward and the blonde looked on with interest as they transported themselves and the broken body of Benjamin Tenkiller away.
------
This is the last of the material that was posted already... from here forward, it's all new... well... except for this brief interlude.

The following was previously posted as part of the epilogue of Homecoming. It is being posted here as it is about to become a bit more relevant.- Sooner

Interlude

Conall’s Lair
Deep inside a magically constructed series of maze-like caves, Conall Cian crouched holding a beaten copper bowl. From the ceiling above him hung the body of a young hero, one of the Ghosts Reborn. He’d taken her from the streets of Kings Row, targeting a young recruit of the Ghosts specifically as vengeance for the damage they’d done to him. And this one had been an excellent choice. She had generated more power than he’d dared hope. He waited until several seconds passed between each drop of her blood, then lowered her body to the floor. He scratched his sigil into the skin of her back and then used a scrap of his hoarded power to send the corpse back to Kings Row.

Using her blood, he painted an intricate symbol onto the floor of the cave, taking care to make every line and angle perfect. His body was humming with power, and he used it to rip his way through into another dimension - his home.

He breathed deep of the familiar scent of the air and spread his wings wide. He bared his fangs in a smile and glanced over as pained whimpers caught his attention. Nearby a tiny red-skinned imp tormented a victim she had chained to a rock, and he smiled in admiration at her skill.

But, he had business here, and it was time to proceed. “Arano!” he bellowed.

“I am here,” the sepulchral voice of his long-time ally answered. Conall turned to see the hooded and cloaked figure approaching, surrounded as always by the magically bound corpses of long-dead kings. He glided towards Conall and stopped a few feet away, irritably waving back the corpses.

“It is time, my old friend,” Conall announced. “Time for you to join me.”

“You can bring me across?” Arano asked.

“I can. You can work your will directly on the humans, you can do as you will, as long as you come when I call, and stand at my right hand.” Arano considered it briefly, but the bargain had been in the making for hundreds of years. It was merely a formality when he nodded. “You will be the first, the first of many. I need allies to achieve my goals, Arano. And you will stand high above them.”

Arano nodded again, and the deal was punctuated by the sudden high-pitched despairing screams from the imp’s victim nearby. Conall turned to see her reaching her dainty hand deep inside her victim and removing chunks of tissue that she then used to paint a pretty design on the skin. Conall smiled broadly and carefully assessed his hoarded power. It should be enough.

He reached out with a tendril of dark energy and grasped the imp. She squirmed and cursed, but he held her fast, drawing her to him. Remembering the struggle so long ago when he had been bound by another, he was determined to win this one. “And you will be the second,” he announced.

She cursed him thoroughly, in several languages, before announcing, “I want to stay HERE!” He wrapped her more tightly in dark power and pushed her to her knees. Her barbed tail lashed like a cat’s, her delicate wings flailed uselessly, she cursed, she twisted and fought, but she was no match for his stolen power and finally she bowed her head, admitting defeat. “What do you want from me?” she asked sullenly.

He trailed one claw down her cheek, “Your name?”

She hesitated - names were power in that world, but he could not begin this by allowing her to defy him. He took her jaw in the palm of his hand while he wrapped his dark power even more tightly around her. “Excruciatrix!” she spat finally.

“Excruciatrix....” he said. “I want you to come to the other side, serve me, and do to the human’s world what you just did to that,” he said, pointing at her victim still writhing and moaning on the rock.

She smiled, revealing needle-sharp fangs of her own. A tiny thing, she was, less than half his height and a fraction of his bulk, but when she looked up at him her eyes were red and gleamed with fire. Tiny she might be, there was a kindred soul inside her. She nodded. “Yes!”

With her agreement, it was done. His will wrapped around hers, and she was his to command.

Conall tore open the way back and carried the first two of his allies back to the world of humans.

Yep. It went really well.

Thanks, everyone!

Part VII is up

Part VII

Ben woke up in his apartment with a foggy head and vague memories of a very explicit dream. The hint of an expensive perfume still seemed to linger in the sheets. He lifted his head from his pillow, but was instantly dizzy. Something was very wrong with him. He tried to remember what day it was, but couldn’t. He tried to remember what he’d done to feel so sore and tired, but couldn’t. His whole body hurt and he couldn’t even think. He struggled to wake, fought for consciousness. After a supreme effort, he lifted his watch and blinked to focus on it. He read SA 11-27 2:28PM and frowned. That couldn’t be right. Saturday? Oh... no.... he was supposed to have gone with Caryn to have Thanksgiving dinner with her family. Had they talked? Dread filled his belly, and that gave him the strength to roll out of bed. He grabbed his phone as he dragged on a pair of jeans. Caryn’s phone rang twice and then went to voice mail, which meant she’d hit the “ignore” button on her phone.

“Caryn... No no... c’mon...” he muttered as he ran through the apartment. He paused for just a moment to stare as he passed a mirror. His body was covered with bruises and scratches and he had no idea where they’d come from. Then he pulled on a t-shirt and he ran out the door. It was far too cold to be running around outside in short sleeves, but he didn’t waste the time to go back inside for a jacket. He sprinted, still barefoot, to his truck and pulled out of the parking lot with squealing tires. He tried again to call Caryn, but this time it went straight to voice mail. She’d turned off the phone.

He blatantly double parked and ran across the dead grass, the cold concrete sidewalk, and up the steps to Caryn’s door. “Caryn!” he yelled, banging on the door. It seemed like forever before he heard the locks turning and then the door cracked open.

Caryn’s roommate, Angie, stood there, short, dumpy, dishwater hair pulled back in a sloppy
ponytail. She shook her head at him. “Dude, you screwed up.” she offered helpfully.

“Just let me in, Angie.”

“Your funeral...” she said with a shrug and stepped back. “Caryn! He’s here!” she called.

Caryn came stalking down the hall like a lioness on the hunt. “You... get out!” she growled.

“Caryn, c’mon... let’s ta-”

“Talk?!?” she scoffed. He could almost see the sparks flying from her eyes. “By talk you mean telling me you don’t know? You can’t explain? You don’t remember?” She snatched up a dufflebag from the floor by the couch. “My mother made cherry cobbler for you, you *******!”

“I’m sorry, Caryn, I don’t know-”

“You NEVER know!” She advanced on him, fury twisting her face. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Dammit, Caryn, I love you, let’s talk about this.”


“You don’t LOVE me!” she yelled. “You don’t treat people you love like this!”

“But I do! You’re everything-”

“Shut UP!” she yelled. “I’m so tired of hearing lame excuses from you!” She flung the dufflebag at him. It bounced off his chest, striking the huge blue and purple bruise there, and he winced. He had no idea where that bruise had come from, but the pain was sharp and surprising.

“Caryn... please calm down and listen to me.”

“Fine! Where were you? Why didn’t you call?”

“I don’t-” he broke off at the look on her face. “Caryn, really... I don’t remember. I just woke up today and-”

“Is it another woman?”

He gaped at her, stunned. “No! Of course not!”

“Drugs? Are you doing drugs? Drinking?”

“You know I don’t-”

“I don’t know anything! I especially don’t know you!” She pointed at the bag. “Get your ****. Get out of here.”

“Wait! No, Caryn...”

She took the last two steps toward him and shoved him back. “GET OUT!”

He winced when she pushed on that bruise. “Stop it, Caryn. Talk to me.”

“I am DONE talking to you.” She pushed him again. “Get OUT of here!” She pushed again, “I don’t ever want to see you again!” She shoved him even harder, and he hissed from the pain of the repeated pressure on that bruise. He reflexively reached up and grabbed her wrists.

“Stop it,” he said, “Just stop it. Calm down and talk to me.”

She twisted her wrists out of his grip. She drew her arm back and landed an slap on his face. Like her sisters, Caryn was a tall, strong woman. Even an open hand slap had power behind it. His head snapped back and he tasted blood where his lip had smashed into his teeth. The sound of it, the sharp concussive sound cut though and echoed in his head. Shock froze him as she twisted the ring off her right hand and threw it into the dry grass. With one last fiery glare, she kicked the duffle outside and pushed the door closed in his face.

He stood there for a moment, then pounded a frustrated fist into the door. “Dammit Caryn, I need your help and now you refuse to even listen to me at all! I'm hurting here and I don't know what the hell is going on, I can't explain it to you because it doesn't make any sense to me! I can't believe you think I'd touch drugs or go on some bender, if you think I'd do that I guess you don't know me as well as I hoped you did!” He pounded his fist one more time on the door and stepped back, hoping that she’d open it up again, even as he knew she wouldn’t. Finally he turned and searched through the grass until he found the ring. He gripped it tightly in his hand, picked up the duffle and trudged back to his truck. He took a deep, bracing breath, but couldn’t make his throat work above a whisper. “I need you Caryn,” he breathed. “I love you...”

---
“It appears the boyfriend is no longer a problem,” Akando said. “In fact, the situation may well work in our favor.”

“You finally killed him?” Ciara asked.

“He has left her for another woman. She is alone, and upset.”

“Make your move, then. Quickly. I am tired of waiting and may take out my frustration on you. Or give the boyfriend to me, and I’ll make him pay for the delay.”

The next day....
Caryn landed hard on her back on the soft mat and her breath whooshed out of her. Her instructor stood over her, and shook his head. “You’re distracted, you’re not centered” he said. “You’re not here.” She experimentally shifted her jaw back and forth. It didn’t appear to be dislocated. He reached down to help her up. “Shin, gin, tai , Caryn. Is it mind, body, or spirit?”

“Bad break-up,” she muttered. “Really bad.” She shook her head. “Ya, I’m distracted.”

He nodded. “Cool down, then. We’ll call it early today. But, Caryn...”

“Yes?”

“You need to take this seriously: shin, gin, tai. Think of it as a tripod. If one leg is weak, the whole cannot stand. You are off balance today. Why?”

“I’m hurt. And sad.”

“Your spirit is wounded.” She nodded. “Don’t neglect the spirit, Caryn. Shin, gin, tai. Remember it.”

She gathered her belonging, shrugged into her parka and trudged out into the cold, dingy day. She was miserable. School started back up tomorrow, she had two tests and a paper due, and she just didn’t care. All she could think about was Ben. What had changed? Why had he suddenly become a stranger to her? She so badly wanted to call him, to beg him to explain what had happened, but she knew it would be more of the same: excuses and evasions. Whatever it was, it was obvious she couldn’t change it by talking about it.

As she walked, her eye was caught again by the Tai Chi studio. Today there was a class in session, a dozen students swayed in graceful synchronized movements under the direction of the instructor. She watched, drawn in by the beautiful movements. The instructor glanced up and caught her eye. He smiled a welcome and gestured to her to come in.

“Shin, gin, tai,” she muttered to herself and approached the door. Her hand was on the handle when she saw Ben’s battered old blue pickup screech to a stop nearby. He looked terrible as he jumped out. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his normally neat long black hair was a bird’s nest around his ashen face. He'd missed a button on his shirt and it hung crooked on him.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you here.” he said. She could hear how tired he was.

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Please, listen to me, Caryn. Something is wrong.”

She sighed, tired and hurting and not ready for another fight. “Ben, no.. just leave me alone.” She turned away from him and reached for the door of the gym.

“Caryn, dammit! Let me explain!” Ben shouted, moving around in front of her. “I don't know what's going on, I'm not even sure what day it is anymore! Something very wrong is going on, I'm so confused. I need you to listen to me, instead of accusing me of stuff you know isn’t true! I know you're mad, I.. I know I’ve screwed up recently. I should have talked to you before but dammit something is seriously wrong!” He yanked open his shirt and revealed his chest and belly covered with huge purple bruises, welts, and scratches.

“What....” Caryn was stunned. She’d seen strange bruises on him before, but he looked like he’d been through a war. “What did that to you, Ben?”

Before he could answer, the Tai Chi instructor stepped out of the gym onto the street. “Is everything ok?” he asked, with an expression of concern.

“Caryn, c’mon. Come sit with me, and just talk for a minute.”

“Is this young man bothering you?” the instructor asked.

“No... no no,” Caryn answered both of them. “I need a minute... just... give me a minute.”

“Caryn!” Ben reached out and took her elbow in his hand.

Caryn narrowed her eyes and slowly looked down at his hand. She saw the ring he’d given her on the pinky of that hand and that caused a fresh spurt of pain. She masked it quickly with anger. “You’re going to want to move that hand before I move it for you, Ben.” She glanced at the Tai Chi instructor, watching intently with concerned eyes. She remembered his name suddenly. “Akando, isn’t it? Yes, I think I would be interested in learning Tai Chi.”

“Wait wait...” Ben stepped forward suddenly. “His name is Akando? Akando? You’ve talked to him before?”

“Ben... go home.” Caryn said, suddenly just very tired. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to be jealous, now. Ya.. He asked me before if I wanted to learn Tai Chi.”

Ben put himself completely between Akando and Caryn. “You stay away from her!” he growled. “You just stay far far away from her.”

“What are you DOING?” Caryn demanded.

“Caryn, you don’t want to learn anything this man might teach you. Stay away from him, please.”

“What are you talking about?” She shook her head and closed her eyes, not sure how much more she could take.

“Akando is an Indian name,” Ben glanced over his shoulder at her, and suddenly she could see that warm look in his dark eyes, the one that was just for her. And worry. His eyes were filled with genuine worry for her. “They are... wrong... they... ” he looked confused suddenly. “...and he means you harm. I don’t know how I...”

“What are you talking ab-” Caryn started to say when a hot pink corvette convertible pulled into the slant parking nearby. Caryn’s jaw dropped when she saw the gorgeous blonde step out. Caryn hadn’t seen Ashley since the day she’d ejected the blonde forcibly from the apartment, but recognized her instantly. Her eyes narrowed.

“Ben, darling?” Ashley called. Ben’s eyes went cold and he turned away from Caryn to stare fixedly at the blonde. “Come on, sweetie, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

“Yes, Ashley,” he said quietly, and walked away without a backward glance.

Caryn just stared after him with her jaw hanging as he folded his tall frame into the corvette. Ashley then spared one single bright smile for Caryn before she settled behind the wheel and drove away.

Akando turned his dark eyes on Caryn then. “Today might be a good day to get started, I think,” he offered gently.

Caryn threw her hands up in the air. “No. No no no.” was all she could bring herself to say as she stalked away across campus to the CART. She relived again and again and again the moment he denied that there was another woman. And each time felt like a fresh betrayal.

I've already got two ready to go.

I'll be glad to help anyone else grab some.

I forgot one of my favorites:

If you find a big open space with lots of barrels of explosive material scattered about it for no apparent reason.... you are about to have a fight.

1. No matter HOW urgent the objective is, I still have time to thoroughly explore the region looking for loot, talk to every villager, or go capture, breed, and race Chocobos.

2. If your objective is the SE, there is unbelievably cool stuff to be found to the NW. ALWAYS explore in the opposite direction of your objective.

3. Reload or die.

4. Cover is your friend.

5. The best gear is totally worth it.

6. There is always better gear.

7. Sometimes, people just don't mind if you walk into their house, rummage through their locked belongings, and take what you want.

8. Most situations require violence to be resolved.

9. All women are smokin hot.

10. Most men are too.

.... what have YOU learned from video games?

Ok... I'm liking ME2 more as I play it. Initially, it appeared that very few of my choices were going to matter... but...

---I'm striving to not drop any real spoilers here, guys ---

I was DELIGHTED when I happened across a reference to the Rachni queen, and there's been more. Oh.. now I really wish I'd finished that "fan" story in ME1. I bet that'd pop up, too.