June's rite went off a little unexpectedly. The memories came back in a flood of pain and despair. As my mind was trying to assimilate all of the bits of my former self into my present self I focused on small refections as they roared by.
One of the memories was of Amaciel teaching me a rite of guilt. Sadly I wasn't all that pleased to be involved. It was a rite that Amaciel and one of my predecessors had come up with. One of the goody-two shoe's type's. The one's that were very concerned about "making people better" because they "learned from there mistakes". I can barely get the taste out of my mouth at that thought.
No this rite that were preforming was to see if the accused was actually guilty of the crime. Depending on how it went Sian would be brought in to provide her little contribution. Sian..another do-gooder. I wish that she could see my point of view. While we agree on some aspects of our Domains we cannot reconcile our reason's for doing so.
Hmmm. The rite is going along nicely. Amaciel is in his small dragon/snake form as we continue with the rite. He has shocked me in the past with things that he has said. I get the feeling that this provides him with a form of entertainment. But this time he tells me something of a riddle. It started with a simple enough question.
-So Mariska, What do you think about the Chancel?
I told him that I was happy with my part of it, and with the two Anchor's that I had pinned down, but I could see room for improvement.
-Ahhh. Yes the Evil Guilt's and the Wild Guilt's always seem to feel that way. Not so much the Good Guilt's they always seem to have a much easier time of it. But don't worry, you will find some sort of equilibrium. They will come to love you.
This statement has always bothered me. Did he mean my fellow inmates in the Chancel, or perhaps he meant my anchors? I have no real desire to have my Anchors "love" me. On the contrary, I wish them to feel there wrongness and embrace it. To wrap it around them and cause bitterness, pain, and loss throughout Earth.
The next memory flits by.
This one is more recent.
This one is not of guilt per se.
More of Hubris.
Hubris, the pleasantly sweet precursor or a hors d'oeuvre to/of Guilt.
Delicious.
It is from the mind of that Bastard Christopher. It is a vision from our Chancel...shortly after all of us had fled. He is listening to the Bronzeman, Czerny, P. Friendship, P. Loyalty, and the P. Jealousy. They are talking about the huge sword that the Bronzeman is carrying (compensate much). He is in the Glorious state of Hubris. You got to love him for that. He has no real imagination. he is as inflexible as his make-up. In his mind, there is only the box. He and that poor dear Sian would get along well I think...if the situation was different and all.
The conversation turns to the sword. The sword the "wronged party" is using against Amaciel. to destroy him and draw off his power. But the bronzeman makes a statement that sticks with me. He says that none of the swords could be used to hurt the other Chancels. He can't see that the only real thing that could be used to hurt the Chancel of the "Wronged Party" is a sword just like it. It has never happened, so it can never happen. Talk about denial. I think that I should get my couch warmed up for that one, he needs it.
When we all come to we have a meeting of the minds. We all share our newly acquired knowledge to better understand our situation. June, Sian and I performed the Rite of the Guilty Party and we saw a sword. A sword just like the one the Bronzman had. After much discussion we have come to a disagreement. Sian and I have come to the same conclusion from different directions. Though Sian seem to feel that Amaciel is in need of punishment.
June created a delayed rite to detect the sword in question. I put mine in a pot and put it in my window.
The next day a bit of oddness.
Ife came by. She want to see wanted to see me. As we walked back to my office she engaged me in small talk...mostly trying to find out what was going on. When we got back to the office the Damnable heat was set on roast again. I pardoned my self, grabbed a 5 pound sledgehammer and started to pound the radiator. The stupid super for this building is going to hear it from my again.
Ife walked over to the window, unnoticed by her the flower began to bloom. She had the sword on her. She is the TRAITOR.
-Ife love, please keep perfectly still and don't do anything sudden.
She did not heed this advice. I yelled for Christopher, and she attacked me. It was battle to the death. I could feel her guilt welling up to caress me.
Tasty.
Things were not going well on my end as Ife had managed to get the room and the Gargoyles to either attack me or ignore me. The Bastards will pay for this.
I started to yell for the only fighting type currently in the Chancel...Sparky. DONNER THE DAMN FLOWER IS BLOOMING GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME.
Ife called for her brother the Bronzeman.
Bitch.
The room calmed down and calmer heads decided to let the Bronzeman and Ife leave. The bronzeman told us he would look in to our claims.
Fat chance I thought as I saw the two of them back out of the Chancel.
We travel along the world tree. Molds form along the branch where I pass. A single branch is as wide as a planet, holding solar systems among its leaves. The branch we are traveling trembles. An errant serpent has come upon us. (Punishment grabs me and flies out of its way, so we don’t get smashed. I doubt that that was necessary, serpents are large but perceptive.)
“Greetings children” It rumbles “I am Orachi and I’m pleased to meet others of your statures.”
We talk of the sights that we’ve seen and remain vague on why we are wondering the great tree. Punishment uses Amaciel’s tree quote while describing the galaxies we’ve seen. Orachi picks up on it and asks of our imperator.
“Amaciel.” Sad that it is so hard to admit. We have always been proud of who we were and of our family.
“You may seek me out when you have learned more and we can talk.” Orachi whispers in a booming voice. That is a comfort. Who would not want a serpent in their corner, or at least one who was inviting conversation?
“What do we need to know” asks Punishment
“You are headed in the right direction.” And Orachi earthquakes away with a trail of snowflakes following him.
We move with a purpose now. Punishment gingerly carries me as she flies a full speed. (Do you have a trash bag or something that I can carry you in? Yeah, it’s called a poncho.) Death keeps the pace on the ground or branch or whatever you want to call it.
At one point Death alerted us to a flock of flying snakes. They swarmed towards us. Punishment let me loose and I created a fungus landing bed. Death and Punishment scared the others off before I even hit the puffballs.
Death leads us on towards the valley. Near the crossroads a well dressed man sat having a picnic. He warned us off from entering the valley. He is Samael, an acquaintance of Amaciel’s. He has been around long enough to know Punishment’s predecessor, but that is not all that long. We are not surprised that this place would be well defended. Samael knows that at the very least, there is a great roc guarding the valley.
He says that he is pausing here to wait for another. I dislike coincidences. I do not trust them. I send some special molds into the picnic basket. I would like to know where it goes and who it meets.
Samael’s appointment arrives. He is less than pleased to see us. After a brief introduction, Dust and Samael leave.
We enter the valley of death, well the valley of world serpent death, with Death. There is a bit of irony in it all. It is a place that Death would feel, if not at home, at least comfortable. Punishment did not like the reminders of the mortal or immortal end, perhaps because she deals so much of it. I just saw a lot of bones and grey skies. Even death was just another opportunity.
The roc appears as expected. Death sees it first. It is huge. As it approaches, Death stomps and causes the massive bones that litter the ground to leap into the air and impale the bird. Punishment vaults up onto its back and stabs it mightily with her spear. I am not fast of body but my powers flow and I call on my domain to create a giant toxic puff-ball in the path of the roc. I choose a strain that birds are most susceptible to. By the time the roc hits my defenses, she has had enough and leaves.
We reach the gate of the serpent graveyard. There is a wreath of bay leaves at its crest. The burial mounds are huge. Near the back of the graveyard is a massive glowing bay tree. It is obvious that it is a recent addition. The tree is at the head of a long snake-like shape covered with moss and fungus. This is the same fungus as that found on Amaciel statue at the chancels heart.
I do a major divination of the space under the mold. My fungus friends show me that they are covering empty space. It is hollow, like a snake that has shed its skin. Death touches the mound and it collapses in upon itself.
We notice that the tree is growing as we watch. Punishment plucks a leaf and it immediately begins to grow back. I create a giant fairy ring around the tree so I can keep track of who come here.
We are all pensive. I ponder the laurel – I change but in death. I remember my discussions with Amaciel, of death and reforming. “Like shedding your skin, if your skin went all the way down. He has a piece of me, my domain, just as I have a piece of him that I never shed. I wonder where he is now. I have to believe that some part of him, outside of our family, is somewhere, waiting for us and waiting for vindication.
Death asks to stay behind and pay his respects. He joins of at the gate and we make our way towards the serpent Orachi. When we find him, he seems pleased to see us.
“Little ones, I take it that your trip has been successful?” He asks.
“Informative” says Death.
“If unfulfilling” adds Punishment.
Orachi sends of down the Apian Way past Locus Abrolam, down the tree. There is a disruptive serpent down there that might be informative. The challenge will be to hold him still long enough to talk.
We use a flower to contact Guilt and let our family know what we have found.
I sat in the library grateful for the peace I was surrounded in. If I am going to be part of this crazy family I should know more about not only us but also the extended family. I studied and learned. My mind wondered a bit when I ready about Lost Things and even though most of the family was against me talking to him I called him anyway. I have with the death of the angel outgrown the need for orders and I shall do as I please. Even if they do not realize it I am doing this for their own good. We did not talk long but I did tell him what I think and I believe he trusts me to be honest. I guess we shall see in time.
I have not yet decided what to do with Jessica. Her betrayal has been unexpected and I feel very angry but I will give her a chance to explain herself. I have found a way to bring her here and I shall talk with her upon her arrival. I order her to central park and she is to carry anything she cannot live without. I am able to bring her to the chancel and confront her with what I know. She is stunned at the fact that I have this knowledge and I am more confused after talking with her. I send her to the angel’s house to live for now.
There were several screams throughout the chancel and one was that the bronze man is here. He is after Donner and the old lush and if he reaches them the battle will be swift and will not end in our favor. I may not like Guilt as a matter of taste but I will not allow her to be butchered in our home. I have to find him first and distract him; their lives depend on it. I spot him and take careful aim anything less than deadly wound and he will brush me off. I unload the gun just to make sure I have his full-undivided attention and I do. He lands in front of me and we have a go at each other. Did I mention he pulled out the sword? The big sword the imperator-killing sword came into play. He got the better of me and I am suddenly weak. I am much weaker then I should be for the hit I took. Interesting I had not been expecting that.
Donner shows up shortly after he hit me and the bronze man says all he wants is the release of his sister and Donner agrees. I would have stayed and tried and perhaps died but I left the decision up to Donner. He agrees to the exchange. June shows up during this time too and she and the bronze man have an exchange of words in regards to the sword. I do not trust his innocence but I shall just keep that to myself. The bronze man and the girl he came for leave. He is very attached to her, and I am sure I can use that.
We walked, then, along the great branch -- perhaps only a twig, but the scale was so distorted that it was as though we walked along the spine of the world -- upon the greater Tree. I tried to focus on the present, on the here. Pondering too deeply the wonders of Yggdrasil or the Mythic realm was, I knew deeply in my heart, the route to madness.
In my left hand I bore the Spear, now in its true form (if it could be said to have such), functiong at times as a walking stick (blade upwards, of course), at other times slung across a shoulder or two, or even, in rare moments, sheathed upon my back.
Rare, since I did not know what threats the World Ash would face us with, but trusted they would be mortal if we did not stand always ready to guard ourselves.
In my right hand, or sometimes in a pocket of my coat, was a sprig of the tamarisk that Reality had created to react to the Sword that had slain (perhaps) our Master.
We strode along the barky road, terrain as broken as any set of rocky hills, or more, yet always of wood.
Well, Death and I strode. Fungus sort of galumphed along. It slowed us down, but its knowledge of the tie between Amaciel's icon in the Chancel's Heart and ... similar mold somewhere out here on the Tree was critical.
Hours we walked. Or days. The Mythic realm is timeless, in some odd sense that defies description here in the Prosaic. Did we walk across countries, or continents, or solar systems? The answer seemed to vary each time we considered it, so we did not. We simply walked, the bark beneath us illumined by the aurorae which played about the tree's branches like St Elmo's Fire.
We came to where the branch met the trunk of the tree. We headed downwards -- though, in truth, gravity still made the bark we walked upon "down," no matter how we were oriented. Another matter that did not bear consideration.
We walked, and walked some more. There was hunger, a disquieting experience, but nothing debilitating. And even if we had wished to eat, no tinder would we collect from Yggdrasil, nor fire dare to light.
And then, hours/days/weeks along, we felt a trembling in the ground, as though a minor tremor shook it. But we were upon the Tree, and to create such a trembling ...
I flew, letting Nemesis pull me upwards, leaving the other two below. From my higher vantage, I could see --
Holy Jesu. 'Twas a serpent, one of those who call themselves Aaron's Serpents, as was our Master. It was near to three hundred miles away, which was but three lengths of its body. It would crush us, without even knowledge it had done so.
I streaked back down to the others, warning them. Death could run to safety, incredibly. Fungus I must bear upwards, taking care not to let it come in contact with anything subject to mold and decay.
More incredibly, the Serpent paused, seeing us with eyes like ponds, set in a head three to four miles wide.
Greetings, mortals.
Death said something, though I could not hear it, as my mind rung from the -- presence of the creature's words. Instead, I merely bowed.
Are you on a Quest -- or are you sightseeing?
Caution warmed me, for we were still sought after as traitors, as our Master had been executed. "There are many wondrous sights to see here," I called out, carefully. I did not think I could lie to one of the Serpents, but I might prevaricate.
Thank you, child. I am Orachi.
I recognized the name, oddly enough. This Serpent held no Chancel. Earthquakes were among its domains, and Snow.
I felt I should add something, so I mentioned Amaciel's quote, that it was not so much a wonder that planets should dangle from trees, but ...
... but that trees should exist at all. You know the proverbs, child. Who is your Imperator?
Well, that had done it. How quickly could I fly? I could not fly so quickly that I would live longer than it I fought.
"Amaciel."
Hmmmmm. Interesting.
That was unexpected.
You may find it useful to speak with me at a later time, when you know more. You have permission to speak with me later.
Huh? "When would ... that be, milord? What more must we know?"
You are on the right path. I will be around here for several more weeks. Orachi slid past, scores of miles of serpent flesh, horrifyingly beautiful.
And yet, he had been a comfort. For he spoke of our future, rather than of our being destroyed out of hand. And he spoke of our being on the right path.
Well, then, we would take it.
I carried Fungus forward, while Death sprinted below us.
We were approaching a great fissure in the bark, a league or more away, a fissure the size of the Grand Canyon. Below me was forest, through which Death ran. I was glad enough to not share his company for a time. Not that Fungus was a great conversationalist; it was content to merely sit and wait. But Death was -- uncomfortably intense. Uncomfortable, insofar as he reminded me of my darker sides and passions, those I pretended were well locked away, but which I knew lay all too near the surface when I hunted.
Hunting. I heard Death cry out in anger and warning. "We are under attack!" I looked down, and saw a swarm of winged snakes rising toward us, their brethren presumably engaging with Death.
"Drop me," Fungus said, and I obliged, it freeing up my hands to draw the spear. I knew the fall was unlikely to kill it, even if it did not conjure up a bed of mushrooms to break it.
It was a short fight, for all that. The serpents would stiffen, flip about, and hurl themselves as spears toward me as they attacked. They were of little threat, and many of them were dead before the others fled. I knew, instinctively, that they were but animals, undeserving of punishment beyond what we'd done to protect ourselves.
Death, too, and Fungus, were unharmed, far moreso than their own opponents.
We carried on.
We had reached the mouth of the valley, and there found a man having a picnic. He arose as we approached, and nodded. "Gentlemen, I do not think you want to go in there."
As we closed the gap, he eyed me. "Cheriour. Excuse me, I havfe you confused with your predecessor."
The red-haired figure introduced himself as Samael, a former associated of our Imperator. He warned us of opponents of great puissance within the vale. "Visitors are frowned upon," he said, "if not of certain length or breadth."
If this was the burial place of Aaron's Serpents, I would not wonder. Still, I pressed him for the danger, and he finally advised us to "watch the sky," as the primary defender was a great roc.
We would have asked him more, but another person came up at that point. The newcomer was distrated and unfriendly -- as though sure he was our better. Samael introduced him as Suphlatus, "Dust," then bid us an adieu.
We entered the valley, the Sepulchre Adforari.
It was a dismal place, and had we not been forewarned we would not have been lulled into complacency. About us, the ground was littered with fragments of bone and partial skeletons.
"It is coming," Death said, pulling his eyes from the boneyard.
"It's big," noted Fungus, and it was right. The great roc was the size of a widebodied airliner, its beak a brilliant bronze, its claws cold iron.
And, yet, we were three of the Nobilis, and chosen for our own puissance. I leapt into the air as it appoached, to land on its back, raking deeply with the Nemesis Spear. Death stamped upon the ground, and the force drove the bones upwards like a flight of bleached arrows into its chest.
As I drove the Spear in further, I could see Fungus had created a great puffball of noxious spores ahead of it, and I leapt off again, landing lightly, planning what I'd do when it wheeled aobut.
The roc did not. Gagging or poisoned by the puffball it had flown through, beak open, and wounded upon its back and chest, it wheeled off, fleeing.
We went on.
The graveyard was circled by trees, and was entere by a gate of trees, upon which hung a wreath of bay leaves. Walking into the yard proper was a strain, dark necrotic magics flicking about it. Death, of course, was as one intoxicated by strong drink. This -- darkness was not to my taste, however. Death was a means, not an end, for me.
About us snaked great burial mounds -- literally, given their inhabitants. Dozens of them, if not more. They bore no markings, just a sense of what had been interred there, and none of that recent.
Toward the back, we found open space, where there was activity of nearer days. The ground was disturbed there, and the mound was mossy, moldy -- more like a covering than a burial mound as the others had. It was the same growth as had festooned Amaciel's icon.
Where the head would be buried was a great bay tree, massive, softly aglow, its leaves like the heads of spears.
Fungus came forward, raised its hands, and was still for long moments. "He is not within," it said, at last. "The space is hollow, born up only by a discarded skin."
Then it was true. He still lived.
The bay tree, we could now feel, bore some presence or essense within it -- of Amaciel? It was growing, even as we watched it, and glowing as well. I plucked a leaf, but naught happened. Bay laurel, I mused. I change, but in death.
"Amaciel!" I cried out, not know if I wished him to appear, or not.
Nothing happened.
"We should go," Fungus said, at last. I nodded.
"Leave me, then, for a moment," Death asked us. He added, before we could question him, "I swear, I will not desecrate or loot the graves."
I looked at Fungus, who looked back at me. The guilty man flee where none pursueth. We left him.
He rejoined us at the gate, an unpleasant smile upon his face.
We found Orachi, even as he said we would.
Was your trip successful?
Death shrugged. "Informative, perhaps."
"But unfulfilling," I added.
Orachi nodded, a disconcerting motion given that it meant his head bobbing hundreds of yards. Then do you this. Travel downtree, along the Apian Way, past the Locus Avrilam. That was an Inquisitors Chancel, where resided Strife, Chaos, and Borders. And they bore one of the Swords ...
Listen for stories of a disruptive serpent, Orachi continued. If you can find it, and calm it down, it could be most informative. Something that might have been a chuckle, or perhaps a sigh, fluttered past our minds, even as Orachi turned and left, no easier to stop and ask questions than an avalanche..
We sought out, through flowers, and spoke to our kindred, to let them know what we had found. In turn, they spoke of a treacherous attack upon them by Hapura, Friendship, and the stalemate that ensued when the Bronze Man came to her rescue. The Chancel was safe once more, with Reality, Guilt, Electricity and Lust all there.
We considered our next move ...
FIRE YOUR GUNS
Wild beast, I'll make you mine
Taste your kiss, sweet lips devine
She got moves, drips of sweat
She got eyes of blue, body curves
'n Legs that'll break your nerves
CHORUS:
Fire - when she's going down
Fire - then she make you drown
Fire - then she blow you round
Yeah, You want some fun
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
Fire your guns
That lady bites, hard style
Drips of sex, eyes are wild
She got moves, long long legs
She got eyes of blue, body curves
Legs that'll shake the earth
CHORUS
Yeah, you want some fun
You gotta fire your guns
fire your guns
you gotta fire your guns
fire your guns
(yeah, yeow!)
Yeah
CHORUS
yeah, you want some fun
Gotta fire your guns
Fire your guns (x9)
How do the little familia deal with this? With three of us in Storeyville I still felt vulnerable. And watched. They had to be watching the known entrances. Could they look inside from elsewhere on the New Orleans perimeter? There were techniques for doing that or something like that. I brought it up to Gwen and mentioned we needed some sneaky people to tag the watchers. Bad choice of words: I meant sneaky and expendable. Gwen, one of the world’s better cat burglars, acted hurt and volunteered. I let her go. She was the best choice, skill-wise, short of Macy, Punishment or Terminus.
Talked the same over with Mariska. We need a militia beyond the gargoyles. She did issue an order for all available wizards to cast warding spells.
Waiting. I caused thunder clouds to form and levitated up into them. Practiced zapping from cloud to cloud in proper old-school Electricity style. Wires are better. Still the memories of the Boss urging me to expand my Domain stuck with me. I’m going to work on the ‘spark of interest’ notion soon, if there is a soon, but experimentation showed that I wouldn’t be doing it from a cloud. Not without making intermittent lightnings and thunders.
I was still fooling about in the clouds, waiting for Gwen to get back, when Mariska called for help, Chancel-wide. I zapped into her office and found her fighting Ife Hapura, Domina of Friendship and member of the Bronze Man’s familia. I helped subdue her, resorting to .45s at her forehead and gargoyle backup. Called out a chancel-wide alert. Heard the Bronze Man bellowing – everybody did – and flew out the window to see what I could do about him. Macy had hurt him with her guns but he had one of those Imperator-killer swords and had done some serious damage to her. The Bronze Man claimed to be interested only in retrieving Ife Hapura. Could we take him? Maybe. If I summoned the Z-bolt we’d probably win but he’d probably kill one of us. If his buddy Czerny, the Power of Knives showed up we were all dead meat. If we won, if we killed the Bronze Man and Czerny, Lord Entropy would sic his other Inquisitor familia on us all at once – a Pyrrhic victory at best.
I accepted the offer, Ife in return for him leaving peaceably. Macy didn’t argue, just looked disgusted, which told me she was hurt bad. I claimed that Ife had talked her way in and started the fight. It was probably more or less true. Insults flew about his honor and ours. June showed up and indignently told him about the tamarisk Sword-detecting spell. The Bronze Man seemed disturbed by her words and swore to investigate. I believed him. Gargoyles brought Ife over, mummy-wrapped in heavy chains. Apparently, she and the Bronze Man are an item. They left.
Macy told us that the cut of the Sword had not only hurt her, it had drained some of her protections against damage. Not what I wanted to hear. Still, any landing you can walk away from is a good one.