A small moment of reprieve, the calm before the storm.
As soon as Samarie rose from the ladder, she felt the change immediately. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, as her brand profusely bled.
The green hue was denser here than anywhere else. Enough to bring her mind closer to the mad ravings of the Trickster.
Whispers clawed at the edges of her mind, murmurs of powers greater than Samarie's own understanding.
Her knuckles turned white, the girl's grip tight over her spear.
In the church of Alll-mer, the group was not as safe as they thought.
The air grew thick with a silent pressure, building at the back of their minds.
Before them was the church's basement, a dull gray space made from brick and mortar lit with the flickering flame of candle light.
However, to Samarie, that was just the beginning. Corpses laid strewn about haphazardly, the walls were scorched with the after effects of countless spells.
And their casters…
Some were little more than ashen bones, while the lucky ones only had one or two limbs left.
All of this chaos stood before a statue, one which bore the appearance of a kneeling angel holding up an effigy in one of its hands.
Was it ritual sacrifice? That might have been the case. But she did not know for sure. Whether it was the effects of the Green Hue, or done on purpose, was anyone's guess.
Anyone except for the priest that stood on the ground floor of the church.
He knelt at the altar, head bowed to the floor. Muttering prayers underneath his breath, clutching his rosary with a white knuckle grip.
Maybe he had answers. But with her history, she didn't have a good feeling Samarie had a feeling she wouldn't get the answers she was looking for.
"The left corridor leads to a murder suicide ritual," The girl announced, brows furrowing. "And the only other 'person' in this church seems to be one of the priests."
August scowled for a moment before he mastered his features. Meanwhile, poor Bella just seemed confused.
"The only one alive? Do you think-"
"Lass, it's almost a certainty," The arrow in the older man's hand shone an ethereal green. "These types… I've found myself on the wrong end with them one than once, usually in rural cults, far from society at large. I've just… never seen one operating out in the open."
Samarie grit her teeth. Of course August wouldn't, that was on purpose. Those towns were meant to be the grounds for the Vatican's more experimental work. The sites where the rituals done to her were tested before use.
Often to the detriment of the people there.
"Trust me, it gets much worse from here." Grabbing hold of one of the candles, she held it out in front of herself, motioning for the right. "This is the way up. Let's confront the priest before doing any more exploration."
The others nodded, the tension growing with each step they took forward.
The path there was normal. There weren't any carcassess left rotting on the floor, nor were there literal pools of blood right around the corner.
No, somehow it was much worse than that.
From one blink to the next, Samarie's surroundings changed. It was an instant change, one she couldn't sense.
She barely even knew that something happened.
The girl had been taken to a room with no doors. No defining features other than the rotting rotting wood the walls were made of, and the incessant sound of dripping water.
Her sight was blocked with a constant stream of information, flooding her mind in stimuli, as otherworldly energy coalesced into the interstitial space.
Dream and reality, mind over matter.
Without her knowledge, she had been dragged off into the domain of a Divine, the Trickster was at it again, and she was whisked away off to some other land.
Rher's dimension felt more uncomfortable than the last time she entered. As though the very realm forbid her presence, rejecting her outright.
Focusing inward, Samarie shortened the range of her sight, limiting it to the confines of the room, also turning off her ability to see energy of any kind.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the change. And the reason for why she was there became a bit clearer with every second.
"What's taking you so long? Don't you have a human heart? Get me out of these chains already!" The Reason demanded, grinning through her restraints. "By the way, from one bird to another, my black easily outshines your white any day of the week."
A New God, in the flesh, one that was too confident for her own good it seemed.
"Girlie, in our world, being humble only gets you killed," The New God read her mind. "Might as well wear your heart on your sleeve, and speak your mind. Only really becomes a problem when you don't got the power to back it up."
She approximated a shrug, dismissing the fact that she had read Samarie's mind.
"Also, never touched your thoughts. Your body says everything. As if I were the author writing your book."
A chill ran down the girl's spine, but one she was now able to suppress after discovering the issue.
Her features smoothened out until there was only a deadpan on her face.
She was bound in a mountain of chains, her heart shaped face the only part of her that was left exposed. It bore similarity with a myth in the east, or a monkey trapped underneath a mountain. Save for the fact that this New God was kept prisoner in a separate realm instead of under a mountain.
"You say that, but, as you can see, I'm not divine," Samarie pointed out to the New Goddess. "So, maybe some human decency may go a long way to earning some level of kindness for you."
Pot meet kettle, but the Goddess did not have to know that.
The Goddess snorted haughtily, turning her nose up by the smallest of movements. "And you presume yourself worthy of this one's respect?" She pointedly accused Samarie. "Maybe it is you who is so arrogant to think this Heartless One is beneath you.
"It seems you truly lack such a thing as a human heart."
The girl's pupils narrowed, arms crossing. This Goddess really expected her to help after all of that? The Gods truly knew no limit.
She would have been more understanding if it were an Old God, maybe even an Ascended God. They had the ability to erase Samarie with a thought, to ground her into mince with a flick of their wrist….
But a New God? They were powerful, sure. But in the grand scheme of things, New Gods could still be stripped of their power.
So how was she able to demand so much? With what power?
Calmly, Samarie sighed. She was falling for provocation, and overconfidence. If she took any rash actions, she would be no better than the woman before her.
"You want me to help you out?" The New Goddess grinned, doing her best approximation of a nod. "Then I just need you to do two th-"
"Yeah, whatever! Just get me out of these drabby chains before any more of this stinking mold gets on me!"
Impatience. However, she was better than this wench.
She just needed to calm down.
"Then who are you, and why should I not keep you locked in here for the rest of eternity?" Samarie rose her brow, waiting for a response that had yet to come.
And one that wouldn't come for a while, as the New God was stumped for a while at her own words.
"Katryne, the Heartless One," She murmured, just loud enough for Samarie to hear. "And I flew too close to the moon!"
The air thrummed with otherworldly energy. As though her words imposed law onto the world.
Samarie stood a bit straighter, her gaze lingering ever so slightly on her spear.
"And if you're going to kill me, you might as well do it now," Katryne shrugged. "Trust me, it will be the only chance you get. I doubt you'll even be able to hit off me once I get rid of these chains."
She said the words with the nonchalance someone would use to tell the weather.
There was overconfidence, and then there was the Heartless One.
"That still does not explain why I should free you. Better yet, it barely explains why you're here." Samarie deadpanned in her most dead voice. "You were hidden here, beneath a church, under the tightest wards Rher could have possibly placed.
"Our meeting was a one-in-a-million chance. A consequence of space collapsing after your jailors turned on each other." Katryne seemed to get more amused with every word. "So try to be a little bit more understanding if I cannot exactly see your angle here, or whether letting you go would be a net positive in getting rid of that bastard in the sky.
"Or if you're just another pest I need to get rid of."
The New God's lips turned upward the smallest degree. "You're right, little black witch, you more than deserve an explanation."
The shadows of the room grew darker, swallowing the room's walls. Leaving both of them in an inky expanse.
Rher's domain frayed at the edges. As though His power would cut off with even the smallest spell.
"Deep beneath the earth, there exists a city," A bright light filled Samarie's vision, as phantoms filled the scene soon after. "A city of broken dreamers. Of burn-out fogeys who think they can decide where you stand."
The New God appeared before them, only there were two versions of her. One sat on the lap of the other, while a court presided over them. Although, both seemed to be in an entirely different world of their own.
All around them were figures in billowy robes, their voices obscured, as though they were so far away.
"Two souls, born minutes apart. We both wanted the same thing, to leave for the surface. To turn away from the duty, and discover what exactly we were ruling over."
Sparks erupted, as weapons clashed, both combatants fighting for dominance, only for a sword to suddenly poke out of one of them.
"In time, we struck. Leaving the city in ruined flames, as we ascended to the surface."
The scene changed once more, the landscape shifting to that of the open night sky.
The moon was in sight, and there was a grin on its face as it stared back at the pair through its empty sockets.
"The moon offered us a choice, serve or die."
The pair flew on their pitch black wings, soaring the skies faster than an aircraft.
"And she was made an example for it."
In the span of a breath, both streaks in the sky went from fighting the moon, to crashing into each other.
A closer look showed both inky figures fighting one another, a red sword clashing with its blue counterpart.
For minutes, they fought, a desperate dance that saw both unwillingly strike each other down.
They were puppets on a string, played by powers greater than themselves.
A series of images flashed, not of the pair's battle, but of their brighter memories.
Of the dances they practiced, falling into each other's arms in a heap. The warmth they felt for one another.
And how their bond shattered, as the Defiant One fought for control one last time.
The red blade pierced through the Defiant One's heart, the New Goddess coughing up blood.
It was in her nature to fight against control. This was always meant to happen. The only compass the Defiant One could ever follow was her own.
And how else would she express that defiance when her hands were tied?
In her moment of weakness, Rher spoke to the Latent One. Whispering its mad ravings to the New Goddess' deaf ears.
For she could only witness the sight of her sister's smiling corpse. Her brave sister who had always taken the charge in her meekness.
"You can still make it right, you know?" Her sister whispered in her ear. "Take the Old God's hand, and we will be together for an eternity more."
But the Latent One did not want another lie. She did not want another trick to deceive her again.
"Fuck off!" Katryne cried. "I'll carve my own path. I refuse to bow my head when freedom is so close. I won't let Her memory be in vain!"
A spear manifested in her off-hand, as an inky black material coated her entire body. It dressed her in a skintight bodysuit, serving as protection where her other half couldn't protect her.
She dispelled the voice from her mind, clearing her thoughts as she turned her sights to the Deceiver.
From then on, she was no longer the Latent One, for her potential was fulfilled. There was only…
"Heartless, remember that name when I kill you!"
Faster than before, she shot into the sky, darting for the Moon.
But the Old Gods were still deities beyond comprehension. For those still bound by the laws of the world, there was no reaching them no matter how much a person fought, even if they were blessed by the Golden Throne.
Chains erupted from within her vision, bursting from the reflection of her eyes. They bound her tight, leaving no room to move.
Then, she was shunted to this same dimension, where she laid waiting for more than a millennia.
Gradually, the shadows crept back, retreating from whence they came.
There Katryne sat, a serene expression on her face.
"I have waited ages for the wards to wane, for the fabric of reality to fold in on itself," There was a certainty in her tone. A mad determination to get something done. "And I will wait an eternity more if it means getting a shot at revenge for what that bastard did."
But despite all that she's seen, Samarie couldn't help but make a confused face.
"And what difference would it make?" The words left her mouth without thinking. "You spent all your time here not moving a muscle. What makes you think anything will change when it comes time to fight Him again?"
The woman paused, her eyes going blank.
"Have you ever heard of the Deceiver's ravings?" She began another tale. "In the infinite expanse of the Trickster, there are whispers. Whispers from people, entities beyond time and space, the very world itself.
"I heard there was a weapon capable of distorting the laws of cause and effect. A prophecy that the one who inverts the natural order shall be crowned master over the narrative of the world."
"And I heard that very weapon is here, in this backwater shithole!"
A chuckle left her lips, low and hollow.
"My goal is simple. I endeavor to train, to push past my peak, and into a martial realm no New God was ever meant to reach. Then…" A mad glint appeared in her eyes. "I plan to challenge the weapon's owner."
Samarie clutched Gae Bolg just a little bit tighter.
"On the festival's last day. The Moon shall fall. Whether it be by my hand or not. And when it does, I'll be there to watch it choke on its damn insides."
An awkward silence reigned over them. The tension became so thick Samarie could cut it with her spear.
"Then you'll have to take it off my cold dead hands."
Katryne grinned ear to ear. "You'll make a beautiful whetstone."
"I can say the same for you."
Samarie thrust her spear, piercing through the lock binding the New God.
At the end of the day, the enemy of her enemy was her friend, as the saying went. Even if that friend wanted to take her Gae Bolg away from her.
Besides, it wasn't like Katy could wield Gae Bolg alongside the rest of her weapons, she didn't have a third hand…
But maybe a ritual of Sylvian could fix that?
Slowly, the New Goddess got up on shaky legs, the chains falling to her side, her own wings sprouting from her back.
Although… did she have to go au naturale - as the Rodonites would say- underneath everything?
A blush bloomed on Samarie's face as she tried her best not to look below the woman's collarbone. Her will strength tested to the extreme as she tried to adjust the range of her sight to tilt upward.
The shadows around the New God thickened into a liquid, transforming into a solid as the substance crawled up her body.
Piece by piece, the armor formed itself, shaping into the same set that she wore in the projection.
Once she was finished, Samarie let go of the restraint. Although, her sigh of relief was met with a raised brow from Katryne.
"I would say good luck, but I won this spear fair and square." The girl crossed her arms.
"Then let the best woman win," Katryne nodded, taking Samarie's hand into her own.
"Hey, what are you!" The girl was cut off when the New Goddess planted a kiss on her knuckle.
It was a brand. "If you strike me down four days from now, then you are worthy of the spear you hold. However, should you run away or otherwise evade me on the day's deadline, you forfeit any right you have to bearing it again."
Samarie took her hand back.
"I never once thought about backing out," She uncharacteristically sneered. "If I lose to you, then I was never going to kill Rher in the first place."
She nursed the hand for a second, trying to rub off whatever magic Katryne imposed on it. "Then, I should also lay out a few rules of my own. Should I defeat you, you become my divine servant when I sit on that throne."
The vow shackled both of them. But somehow, the grin on her face became wider, something that did not sit well with Samarie.
"And miss the Moon's demise? If you beat me, you can do whatever you want."
Why was Katy looking at her like that?
Grabbing the same hand she molested, the New Goddess brought it to run along the side of her face, trailing up her white hair, and onto her horns.
"Would you like that, M. A. S. T. E. R?"
Samarie grimaced, feeling a part of herself die inside.
She took her hand back like she had touched a rack of burning coals instead of the woman's horns.
"Just take me back already. I'm pretty sure my companions are worried sick for me."
Rolling her eyes, the New Goddess took a step back.
The shadows around them grew darker, consuming the entire room. Small and smaller, it shrunk until the both of them were pressed together. And with the look Katy had on her face… This bitch did that on purpose!
The shadows expanded, pressing into the walls under they burst from the outward pressure.
Samarie returned to real space with a pop, returning to where she was before the entire fiasco occurred.
And from the look of things, the only thing to happen since then was the girl having a misstep.
Roll:
Spoiler
The cultist looked at herself, Checking her body for any abnormality.
"Are you okay there, Sam?" Abella pressed into her side.
"Huh?" The girl looked herself over, noticing nothing different with herself other than the brand. "Oh… Guess I'm just a little nervous."
Scratching the back of her neck, she tried to laugh it off, but her other companions weren't having it.
Alas, with the ground floor still unchecked, they held their opinions to themselves.
"Just," Abella paused, gripping her overalls tightly. "Make sure you stay safe, okay?"
Samarie confidently grinned back, a grin so bright it lit up the dark basement. "No need to worry about me, I'll bounce back. Just make sure to take of yourself."
She brushed the top of Bella's head, the mechanic burying herself deeper into the girl's side.
Meanwhile, August couldn't help but chuckle. "Reminds me of my youth. My wife used to be like that in our youth."
At the mention of the man's wife, both women couldn't help but blush.
For a moment, they almost forgot they were with company.
Apologizing profusely, the group slowly climbed the stairs to the ground floor.
Colored light beamed onto the pews, stained from the glass above them.
Murals of the Perfect Man were all over the walls. Although, there seemed to have been a focus on images of Alll-mer in the twilight of His life. The greatest focus of this being shown in the main wing of the church.
The God's last moments as a human, His face a picture of pained wrath.
For a religion that preaches forgiveness, the turning of the other cheek, there seemed to be a lot of iconography that portrayed the opposite.
"Greetings guests," The priest said aloud, the church's doors opening behind him. "For one reason or another, all of you have come here. Worry not, all your questions shall be answered….
"Starting with my dear so- daughter, Marina."
The words rang like a bell in Samarie's ears.
She wa-
The doors opened, and the girl's mind blanked.
Before anything, Marina's original goal for coming to Prehevil was to find and confront her father.
The same father who was mostly absent from her life. So absent that all it took to hide her gender was a change of clothes.
So absent that when he inevitably found out, Marina had already embraced who she was, and who she was going to be.
She did not want to end up like her mother… Nor did she want to become the same man as her father…
After reading his letter, it was only a matter of time before she had this confrontation.
"What happened to mom?"
Entering the church, she looked disheveled. Though, she was still the same Marina that Samarie left on that fateful day.
Samarie remembered it just like it was yesterday… Right, it was yesterday.
A wistful expression crossed her face, as Abella held her hand a little bit tighter.
By Marina's side were Olivia and Marcoh, both of whom held constipated expressions.
"You mother is gone, foolish girl," The priest rolled his eyes. "You were meant to stay away from the festival. I didn't want you to return. I never wanted you to come back."
There was a calmness to his tone. Like he had practiced this a hundred times in the mirror. Maybe to trick even himself?
"Then you shouldn't have been so vague in your letter," Marina challenged, getting closer to her father. "Though, you never have been the best at explaining what you wanted."
"Why you-"
"So tell me," Marina cut him off. "What did you do to my mom!?"
There was a deep seated anger in her voice as her hair began to float in the air.
The priest stared at Marina for a moment, his gaze alternating from his daughter to Samarie's group.
"I guess we will have to do this the hard way."