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Post by himiko on Apr 25, 2008 4:04:43 GMT 9.5
Mab didn't quite comprehend what he was saying for a moment. He surely couldn't mean literally fading away, for how could something that catastrophic have happened so quickly, evaded her notice? But whatever Vortigern's faults, no-one could ever accuse him of being overly fond of conversational subtleties. If he said "fading away", then either he was lying outright, or...
Mab glanced down at herself, the colour draining from her face as she saw what Vortigern had already observed. She still stood there, but her outline seemed faded, indistinct, and extremities such as her fingers seemed translucent. Panic welled up inside her as she now concentrated on her magic, and felt herself weakening. Oh, her powers were still fairly strong, but they were ebbing even as she stood there, she could feel them draining out of her, and now the Queen of the Old Ways was truly frightened.
"What's going on?" Vortigern's demand cut into her panic, "Is this supposed to be happening?" He gestured at her, as she turned her head up towards his once again, slowly, as if half in a daze. Even she, the Mistress of Magic, couldn't hide her fear, and it was a pity she wasn't in the mood to appreciate how unsettled she had finally managed to make the king look. For several moments, she didn't reply, seeming unsure of precisely what to say. When she finally spoke, there was a desperation in her tone that the would-be king couldn't ever recall hearing there before.
"Remember our agreement." There was a strange emphasis on the first word, and Vortigern stared at her for a moment, perplexed.
"I'm scarcely likely to forget, you've reminded me enough times. What is going on?" Mab opened her mouth as if to say something, shut it and opened it again.
"Just remember."
"What about this spell?" the king demanded, peering at the decidedly mistier figure of the Queen of the Old Ways, now. Before he got his reply, however, Mab had already vanished in a flash, back to her kingdom.
---
Mab peered around the Land of Magic wildly. She had come to her kingdom in a panic, unsure of what else to do, and she knew that part of her had hoped that here in her kingdom, she would be safe, that this was all some horrible mistake. But no, she felt the weakness still, her outline still shimmered indistinctly, and though it was impossible, surely, still she could feel herself fading, weakening.
"Frik!" she shouted, "Merlin!" Her last shout was even more desperate, knowing he was no longer in her kingdom, "Loke!"
As it happened, Merlin was standing close by at the time, and so he was the first to hear her cries.
"Mab?" His eyes widened when he saw her, and when they drifted to her face, he looked particularly stricken. Whatever he was about to say, however, was lost in the roar and burst of flame that accompanied Loke's entrance.
"Missing my company already?" he asked teasingly, turning to face his sister. When he caught a glimpse of her, however, any joviality dropped from his face, "What's happening to you?" Mab turned to face him, disbelief and panic warring with irritation and the need to lash out.
"What's happening?" she snapped, loudly, "Are you really such a fool, Loke? Can't you see? I am fading. I am dying!" Loke stared her up and down, as if to confirm this for himself.
"But this is impossible..." he said eventually, "You were alright the last time I spoke to you, there was no sign of anything like this. Why would this suddenly happen?"
"I don't know!" Mab shouted angrily, "Do you plan to stand there asking stupid questions until I fade completely?" If the snapping bothered Loke, he evidently chose to set it aside for the moment, concentrating for a moment, and releasing a spell that surrounded Mab, enclosing her within a glowing orb of magic, and she recognised it as the spell that she had used to surround Mordred with when he had almost faded and vanished as the source of Idath's spell. It was an odd sensation, but if nothing else, it seemed to succeed in slowing the encroaching weakness. Mab calmed somewhat, surprised to find that she was shaking. She stared through the magical barrier at her brother, who looked suddenly decidedly paler, one hand resting on a nearby table as if to steady himself. "Loke?" Her voice had quietened now, but the fear remained in it- though now different reasons were beginning to mingle in with just her own potential doom, "What's wrong?" Loke peered upright, and attempted a half-cheerful smile.
"Not as young as I used to be?" Mab didnt really hear the flippant comment. Her mind was too busy working it out for herself. Her fading, Loke's apparent weakness... She was tied to the Old Ways, if for some reason her followers were forgetting her, then it would affect her first, and hardest, but soon all those connected to it would begin to notice the effects, just as Loke was now. But that couldn't be true, because that meant that this wasn't a mistake, that for some reason her people really were forgetting her suddenly and inexplicably. She shivered again involuntarily, as she met Loke's gaze, the siblings staring at each other, both knowing what it meant.
It was at this stage that Merlin finally found his voice again.
"This was what I saw in that dream." Mab and Loke turned to face him.
"You saw that I would start fading?" Mab demanded, "And you didn't mention that part?" Merlin shook his head quickly.
"No, I didn't see you fading, but your face- the expression. The fear. It was exactly how it looked in the cauldron..." He trailed off, "But you can stop this, can't you?" He peered between Mab and Loke, fear creeping into his own expression, "Mab isn't going to die, is she?"
Neither replied to Merlin's question. Instead, Loke rested his hand on the glowing wall of magic surrounding his sister.
"I think," he said, his expression still serious, "That this might be a good time to pay another visit to the Cauldron of Rebirth."
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Post by Lane of Magic on Apr 28, 2008 10:27:59 GMT 9.5
“Mab?...” he asked, his eyes searching the room for any trace of the Queen of the Old Ways, feeling unsettled about the whole and not bothering to hide it. He realised she was no longer there, and in all probability she wouldn’t be coming back too soon. He’d seen the genuine terror in her eyes, the paleness of her face, how she was becoming more and more transparent – something was happening to her, there was no doubt about it. Still, the only immediate certainty was that his most valuable ally in this war had just vanished – off to fight their own otherwordly war, by the looks of it – and the idea of losing the help that had been promised to him would have normally made Vortigern angry. This time, however, he just felt strange… worried. He thought back of her last words, considered something, then stormed out of the Great Hall.
He strawled past the men, who were quick enough to get out of his way, his eyes wildly searching for the one who had come there only moments before. Some things were starting to add up, and although he had no explanation, he wanted at least a confirmation of what he thought was happening. It didn’t take him long to find the soldier he was looking for, and his hand curled firmly around his throat the next second.
“When you came into the throne room, what did you see?” he growled. The man whimpered, completely caught off guard, uncertain of what the right answer was, and knowing very well what would happen to him, should he not reply in accordance to Vortigern’s wish. Understandably, his hesitation only managed to infuriate the king further, impatience causing a threatening frown, which lead to a hopefully easier to answer question. “Was I alone?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I was there too, Your Majesty.” Vortigern snarled. It had not been the answer he had hoped for, but it had been one he was expecting.
“So you didn’t acknowledge her presence…” he muttered through gritted teeth, letting go of the man. “…Because you didn’t see her,” he concluded to himself. He was tempted to ask him if he remembered anything about the Queen of the Old Ways, but reminded himself that this was no time to look or act anywhere near crazy in front of his men, babbling about some unheard of queen, if he didn’t. Besides, there was nothing he could do about it – not yet, at least. He had a battle to fight and win – there was no time he could afford to waste, thinking of Mab and what exactly was happening.
He left Pendragon leading his men, and as he voluntarily or subconsciously quickened the pace, he couldn’t help thinking about her, for he did realise what it ultimately meant – that she was technically dying. And with that, Vortigern realised yet another thing – that despite all that they had done to each other, he didn’t want that. He swallowed hard as the revelation washed over him, but if anything, it augmented his determination to win – not just because he would officially be king again, but… because of her.
---
They flickered at the gates of Anoeth, and Mab looked at the road stretching in front of her, the road she had travelled more than she cared to remember, yet not once as now, fearing deep down that it might be the last time. The shield of magic the Lord of Fire had cast on her was slowly dissipating, being reduced to a mere glimmer that still protected her, and kept the fading process under control.
“Idath!” she called out, once they were both inside the castle. The Lord of Death did not delay in answering the call, appearing in front of them in a flash almost immediately. The surprise that was written all over his face at first was swiftly replaced by a look of shock, as his eyes landed on Mab.
“What’s happened?” he breathed out. Admittedly, he would have probably asked her that anyway, knowing something must be terribly wrong for her to come to Anoeth herself, and so soon. Still, he had not expected anything like this – she looked pale, weakened, as if it weren’t even herself, but some projection of her.
“I’m fading,” Mab stated, trying to keep her voice as steady as she could. “And I have reasons to believe that I might find answers here, that the Cauldron of Rebirth may be the way to find out how this came to pass and see what can be done about it.” She chose to leave out the part about Merlin’s vision for the time being, not wanting to let Idath know she had purposefully ignored it, as if by doing that she might have prevented the inevitable from happening.
There was no reply from Idath, the initial words failing to register for a few moments. He knew full well about the war she had been fighting for the last centuries, but he had never imagined her worst fears would actually come true – certainly not so suddenly.
“Whatever this is, it’s beginning to affect all the Elemental Kings, so you understand we don’t have much time,” Loke stepped in, trying to be as concise as possible and striving to hide his own state of weakness, much like his sister.
“But it’s not possible…” Idath muttered, frowning, as all three of them were heading for the room where the cauldron was.
“It is – it’s already happening, Idath, which is why I’m here!” Mab snapped, feeling desperation lace her voice again. “Have you not seen anything in the cauldron, that might have suggested something like this?”
“Oh, I stopped looking into it a good while ago,” Idath replied somewhat awkwardly, and Mab decided to leave it to that, knowing that perhaps it was for the best. She’d hardly had any chance to think about it, but there were things that had changed in ways she didn’t necessarily want Idath to know, and it was highly unlikely that he would have looked for answers regarding her imminent demise – answers she was hoping to find at last.
“Well, you are going to, now,” she replied, shifting her eyes towards the Lord of Death and her brother, as they were stood before the Cauldron of Rebirth, waiting for its surface to settle.
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Post by himiko on May 2, 2008 3:37:27 GMT 9.5
Idath peered at her across the cauldron, hesitating for a moment.
"Mab..." he began, "Are you sure you wish to peer into the cauldron for answers again? You know how unclear it can be- and this is surely a bad time to be mislead in your actions." He was clearly concerned, and though Mab couldn't really blame him- how often had looking into the cauldron led the pair of them to disaster, and how often had she sworn never to listen to it's "prophecies" again?- she had little enough stomach for other people's pity or concern, even at a time like this.
"I have no other options, Idath," she replied, coldly, "If you don't wish me to use it, say so."
"That wasn't what I meant..." Idath began tiredly, but, seeing the fairly urgent situation they were all in, he swallowed the rest of the comment and simply peered into the waters of the cauldron. Mab did the same, staring at the rippling surface, gritting her teeth as she waited for it to clear.
When the ripples finally stopped, and smoothed, Mab peered forward, eagerly. What she saw, however, was even more perplexing. At first, pictures flickered and disappeared too fast for her to see what they contained. Growling slightly, she narrowed her eyes, willing it to become clearer, to tell her why this was happening. Finally, the images slowed.
Merlin?
Her son's face was reflected in the waters of the cauldron, at first just standing there, then in the Land of Magic- it seemed so long ago as to be another lifetime, but Mab recognised it as the time when she had been pregnant, and Merlin had come to the Land of Magic to see her. They had ended up fighting, of course, but Mab didn't see what relevance it had to her current pitiful situation. The image changed again. Still Merlin, but now he knelt on the floor of the forest of the night, cradling her bleeding form in his arms. Then there he was again, where she had left him in the Land of Magic, pacing up and down, looking worried.
This made no sense- why was it simply replaying memories of her son? She stared closer, willing the image to change. Now other brief flashes were appearing- shadows, indistinct shapes fluttering around the country, statues shattering on the floor. Was that a glimpse of Mordred? It was too quick to be sure. Helplessly, Mab stared down, not understanding it's message.
Tell me how to stop this, how to reverse it! she demanded inwardly, instead.
The images now were no clearer. There was Merlin again. And Vortigern- the battle, it seemed to be, though too vague to make out any real details. The shadows were there again, too, but all these images served only to confuse her further. She didn't understand it, didn't know what to do, and she hated it.
"Tell me!" she begged, no longer knowing whether or not she was speaking out loud, "Tell me!" She shut her eyes for a moment, and opened them again, muttering under her breath, "Tell me what's happening, show me..."
When she opened her eyes again, however, the cauldron's surface was blank, ripples and steam obscuring the surface once more. Mab stared at it in disbelief for a moment, opening her mouth to make some sort of angry comment, but what came out instead was a moan of half fear and half hopelessness.
"Mab!" Idath called urgently. Mab didn't acknowledge him, staring into the blank surface.
"Tell me, damn you..." she shouted at the cauldron, her words sounding almost like sobs. Hitting out at the cauldron, she slid to the ground. Her shield was barely there anymore, merely the faintest spark of magic in the air, and Idath easily reached through it to put his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off angrily.
"What now?" She heard Loke's voice from above her.
"I don't know," Idath replied, "It was too unclear. I couldn't see anything, however deeply I looked. Mab looked into it far deeper than was wise, especially in her current state."
"Yes, quite, her current state," snapped Loke, "You loved my sister once, Lord of Death. Are you going to stand there and watch her die?"
"No!" snarled Idath, "Don't dare accuse me of apathy, not now. I can shield her again, and I shall think of something. I don't need a chaos-loving fire god spouting morals at me now, Loke."
"Stop it!" Mab snapped, finally, tired of listening to them talk over her head, "Do not insult my brother for what you yourself do. You've moralised at me often enough, Idath. And as for you, Loke, your temper does little good. I saw more than Idath, and even I can't see how to stop it." Her voice trailed off and went quiet again, "I don't know how to stop this."
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Post by Lane of Magic on May 11, 2008 14:01:58 GMT 9.5
And indeed, she didn’t. Mab had come here to look for answers, and all she had got – surprisingly or not, considering it was the Cauldron of Rebirth she was dealing with – was more questions. None of the images she’d seen had made any sense, no matter how much she would twist them and try think of the significance they held. Only one image kept drifting through her mind – that of Merlin.
“No, there must be something we can do,” Idath said, also practical enough to reenforce her magical shield.
“And I fear it has to be more than this…” the Lord of Fire added. Mab nodded, although their words didn’t quite manage to register through all the thoughts clashing in her mind.
“I must go back to the Land of Magic…” she whispered more to herself, while still trying to figure out what exactly she was to do now. Idath looked more worried than ever upon hearing her, and went to say something, when Loke cut him off, somewhat puzzled.
“But you know the cauldron was the way to get answers,” he shrugged, pointing towards the premonitory object. Truth be told, the Lord of Fire had no more ideas than she did at this point, but he was aware that wasting any more energy would do no good to either of them. “We must have missed something,” he concluded with a sigh.
“That is what I thought,” Mab snapped, tired of it all. “But there’s nothing I can make out of it. Maybe I was just wrong. Or Merlin was, in what he saw.”
“Merlin?” Idath inquired, confused. “What’s he got to do with all this?”
“Loke will tell you everything,” Mab replied, focusing all her remaining powers to get back to the Land of Magic, vanishing from the spot before either Loke or Idath could say anything else.
---
Leaving so quickly and using her magic on top of that may not have been the best of ideas, she realised as she flickered into existence in her own kingdom only to find that the magical shield surrounding her had disappeared completely. No wonder she was even paler when Merlin saw her.
“You haven’t found a solution to this?” he asked, peering at her fading form.
“No.” Her voice was low, and way she was staring at him made him uncomfortable. As if she was expecting something. “Is there anything else you might have seen in that vision that you forgot to tell me? Any detail, of as little importance as you might think it is…” she asked, knowing full well she was practically grasping at straws, and yet unable to keep the pleading tone from her voice, but from the helpless look on her son’s face she knew he really had no idea what else to say.
She could feel her head spinning, as she headed towards the Inner Sanctum, feeling her powers weakening with every step she took. Her eyes shifting briefly towards the library when she passed it by. She was tempted to enter the room, but much as she would have liked to believe, there was nothing there that might help this time – there was nothing in those books that she didn’t already know, nothing that she had somehow missed. Finally reaching the Inner Sanctum, she looked around frantically, only to find some few scattered still shimmering crystals. Not nearly enough to be reassuring, but better than nothing at any rate.
It was supposed to sustain her for a while at least, and thus she was in no way prepared for the sharp pain that cut through her all of a sudden, making her gasp. Mab frowned, unsure of what exactly had just happened, and although the sensation was gone in a matter of seconds, the weakness returned, worse than before. What is happening?! she thought with a shudder, silently focusing on all her remaining magic to get back, while on her way to find Merlin. If there was no choice but to return to Anoeth, she would not risk leaving her son here, not with all that was going on. Well, this had certainly been a spectacular waste of energy so far – but then again, like in the case of any drowning man, any chance seemed worth grabbing.
The sight that greeted her was even worse. “Merlin!” Her eyes widened in shock, not necessarily because of something wrong the wizard, but because of everything around him. Everything that was starting to fall, to crumble down around them. It didn’t even look real – she couldn’t conceive it as actually happening. On the other hand, Merlin himself didn’t reply to her call, seeming lost, as if watching something far away. And then, she didn’t notice the burst of flames of her brother’s arrival.
“Ma…” The words died in Loke’s throat, and even he, the Lord of Fire, remained speechless for a few moments, as he took in the state the Land of Magic was suddenly in.
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Post by himiko on May 16, 2008 10:19:20 GMT 9.5
"This is bad," Loke said, slowly, suddenly serious, staring around, "The whole kingdom is..."
"...collapsing," Mab interrupted flatly, too tired even to snap at her brother, "I know, Loke." Neither spoke for a moment, as they stared around at the visibly decaying ruins of Mab's kingdom. Mab was the first to snap out of her trance.
"We have to go..." she muttered, turning back to her son, "Merlin, come with me..." She put her hand on her son's arm, but he didn't stir, remained staring into the distance, not even acknowledging that she stood there at all. She shook him again, harder, "Merlin!" Still, he didn't respond. Frustrated, Mab simply attempted to transport him away with her, but now Merlin finally seemed to react to her presence, pulled out of her hold, only to remain in his trance a few steps further away from her.
Mab blinked in confusion, but she knew she couldn't afford this delay. Gathering together some of her last magic reserves, she went to snap Merlin out of whatever trance he was in, when she felt Loke's hand quickly rest on her shoulder.
"Don't," Loke warned her, "Whatever is wrong with him, Mab, it's not hurting him, and you can't afford to lose your strength." Mab blinked- Loke's words made sense, but...
"I won't leave him here, Loke," she shook her head firmly, "The kingdom is collapsing and..."
"And it will collapse all the faster if you weaken yourself anymore," he replied, in a tone that didn't permit argument, "To help him, you need to help yourself, and you can't do that here." Mab clenched her fists for a moment. She looked as though she would argue with Loke, and to hell with the consequences, but reason seemed to overpower instinct for once, and she relaxed her stance slightly, nodding unwillingly.
"We have to hurry," she said, "It can't last much longer..." Loke nodded his agreement, and Mab began gathering her magic together to tranport herself away. She was so weakened, and painfully aware that every ounce of magic she used served only to weaken herself and her kingdom more, and put her son in danger. Her body trembled with weakness, and her magic seemed a ghost of what it once was, the spell too weak to truly transport her anywhere. She said nothing as Loke quietly added his magic to her own, and transported the pair of them back to Anoeth. Her weakness galled her, but for once her hatred of needing assistance took second place to the urgency of the moment.
Idath peered at them as they arrived, questioningly, "What..."
"My kingdom is dying along with me, and Merlin is in some sort of trance and won't acknowledge me at all," Mab bit off the words, sharply. Idath looked worried- as well he should, she thought, he knew as well as she did how truly advanced this weakening must have come for her kingdom to be affected so.
"Is there anyone who would remember you?" he asked, "Someone who saw you recently, a mortal? They might still remember you, if we can find someone, then they can spread the message to others, they can keep you alive..."
"There's Vortigern..." Mab mused to herself, having all but forgotten her words to the mortal king, never mind knowing whether or not he would remember them. She didn't even know if he would still be alive by now, she realised- of course, he wouldn't have had her help on the battlefield, but surely there was still a chance he could have won?
"The battle," she said, turning towards Idath, who wasn't looking thrilled at the prospect of relying on Vortigern for help in this matter, "Can you see how it ended?" Idath nodded, and peered back into the cauldron. Hesitantly, Mab followed him, and stared once more into the liquid.
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Post by Lane of Magic on May 18, 2008 9:36:16 GMT 9.5
The wait for the images to appear seemed eternal – admittedly, it was eternity that was at stake. And despite the logical arguments that Mab was silently telling herself – that if there was anything Vortigern had ever been good at, it would be war strategies, and generally winning – she couldn’t dismiss the unease she was feeling. Her hands curled into tight fists, as the image finally settled into a clear picture. The sight of the blood soaked battlefield was the first sign that the battle had ended. The alarming number of casualties – dead bodies belonging to soldiers from both Vortigern and Cornwall’s armies littering the ground – was statement of just how bad it had ended for both sides. But who had won, she couldn’t tell.
“Show me all that’s happened already!” she snapped, unable to fully keep her composure knowing just how many things depended on this one fight. For a moment, she had to suppress the impulse of kicking the cauldron over herself, if that was all the answer it would give her – she certainly wouldn’t have any use of it, unless the state she was currently in got miraculously reversed. The hand Idath placed upon her shoulder was responded with an almost reproachful stare – Mab could see very plainly that he probably wished there was more he could do, but couldn’t help thinking that what was happening to her, dire as it might have been, really didn’t affect him – or his kingdom – that much, as he had made a point of saying quite a few times. Neither had honestly believed it would come to pass, but all that stung now. She remained quiet, however, fully aware that remembering past events wouldn’t do any of them any good.
“What…” Her eyes narrowed slightly, as she tried to put together the new images reflected in the liquid surface. It seemed to have gone back quite a bit – she saw Vortigern’s army, before they had even left for battle. There was also a reflection Cornwall’s army, but they were already poised, waiting for the enemy as if they knew exactly where he’d be coming from, which was not possible. Or should not have been possible, unless they had had some spy infiltrated in Vortigern’s army. Even so, he couldn’t have found out, unless, again… Mab’s face fell: the woman she saw speaking with who supposedly was one of the guards struck a memory – the face would be hard to forget, as would the glint in her eyes. She had seen her before, a good while before – when she had taken Mordred from Pendragon Castle. She certainly had seemed to be against her back then, she would have a reason to hate her all the more now, after what had happened with her precious son.
Mab swallowed, as the image finally shifted again to Vortigern’s army, approaching the battlefield completely unaware of the fact that they were about to get ambushed. “But this is insane! Why would he take the same road, if he knew there would not be an illusionary army to distract Cornwall anymore?” It was the shortest way to get there, to be sure, but it was also risky due to all the trees that allowed such an ambush. Getting there quicker would not prove of much use, all things considered and although he couldn’t have known the trap would already be set for him by the time he got there. Still, had he not seen that possibility? She kept watching, cursing inwardly.
As the battle played out, her hopes for a favourable result were almost completely extinguished. Her hands were still balled into fists – the tremor in them would have been obvious otherwise, as dark and up till now apparently unrelated thoughts were beginning to add up. Vortigern was indeed one of the last people to have seen her, and probably the only one to remember her at this point. If something had happened to him, it would explain her sudden weakness whilst she was still in the Land of Magic. “Show me Vortigern…” Mab muttered at last, wanting to see what she dreaded she had already felt. “Show me Vortigern!” The shout was directed at both the cauldron and its owner, who clearly had more control over it than she did. She came even closer to the rim of the cauldron, as if what she wished she would see could change what was. It couldn’t, naturally – the man was lying on the ground, perhaps wounded although there was no visible wound, but it all looked like a painting rather than a moving image. Mab felt a strange choking panic well up inside her and took a few steps back, shaking her head, wishing for the image to go away, unwilling to accept that he might indeed be gone.
“Wait, he isn’t dead,” the Lord of Fire said suddenly, noting he was still breathing. “You can still go…” His words seemed to penetrate through the choking thoughts that it was already too late, and Mab nodded slowly, taking a deep breath.
“Yes, I have to go there...”
“No! Loke, are you insane?” Idath bellowed, shooting daggers at the Lord of Fire, this time in visible distress himself. “She can’t possibly do that now, it would drain too much of her magic. Going to the Realm of Men now will kill her!” Mab let out a snarl, feeling the noose tighten around her, and tired of being told all she could not do, as if she could not feel it herself that her powers alone were almost non-existent by now.
But remaining in Anoeth, and just waiting to disappear completely was not an option – not unless she wanted to die. Going to the World of Men, on the other hand, might grant her time, at the very least. If Vortigern remembered her. And if he reminded everyone of her, whatever had triggered this loss of memory in people in the first place. Trying one last thing as opposed to not doing anything at all and surrendering was not that hard a choice after all, despite Idath’s pleading look.
“I die either way!” And with that, she focused on gathering every remaining shred of magic. She felt her brother helping her again, and wished she’d had time to thank him, knowing this might well be the last spell he’d cast, did this not work out.
“And I lose you either way…” Idath murmured bitterly to himself, as she was slowly vanishing back to the World of Men. But he knew just how many things had gone wrong because of him, and if this was her only chance, he would help her in whatever choice she had made, rather than know there had been something he could have done and didn’t. He nodded, enforcing her brother’s spell with his own magic. “You’d better be right about this, Loke.”
---
Upon looking around her, Mab found herself on the battlefield. It seemed so much worse now that she was here, and it brought back memories of so many other lost battles, memories that were suffocating her, as she passed by all the corpses, her eyes struggling to identify where the man she was looking for lie. And then, at last, there he was, just as she’d seen him, but still unmoving, despite Loke’s words.
“Vortigern?...” The whisper was barely audible, but she couldn’t raise her voice any higher as she stared at him, trying to ascertain for herself whether he was alive or dead. She called his name again, hoping against hope it was not too late. Her heart leapt, as she finally noticed his chest rising, as his eyes flew open. And then he just stared at her, through her. “Can you see me? Do you remember me? I did ask you that – to remember…” she trailed off, staring back, dreading he had also forgotten her somehow, and that there was nothing to be done about it. But then, she noticed a smirk pull on one corner of his mouth.
“You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you? …Mab.” His own voice was low, and he did sound somewhat strangled, but then, he had just been through a battle. What mattered was that he had indeed seen her, remembered her. Mab let herself sank on the ground beside him, relief flooding her as she realised she could grasp at his hand and not have her own go through it like air. She was still translucent – very much so – but she felt there was hope at last. Of course, even the euphoria that was slowly replacing the despair that had been tugging at her was not enough to make her say aloud just how she was feeling. No, Mab was not one to do that. But she did let a smile spread on her face, as a sigh of relief escaped her lips.
“You haven’t given me that many reasons to rely on you, Vortigern, and I have to admit I don’t always know what to expect from you.” There had been no trace of either contempt nor resentment in her voice, but the man grimaced slightly before replying.
“Cornwall’s dead.” This certainly was a pleasant surprise – he might as well look happier about it. Before he had finished saying the words properly, Mab was already thinking at what lie ahead.
“That means there’s nothing left to stop us now. We’ll return to Pendragon, you’ll be king again, and then you can sta-”
“I’m not very sure of all that, milady…” he forced out, shifting slightly, revealing at last just how badly wounded he was. For a moment, Mab thought he was joking, and she leaned down, her eyes seeing, but her mind refusing to acknowledge that the blood that had drowned the soil around him was his.
“No… You… you must live,” Mab whispered hoarsely, knowing what this meant. She found herself holding him, for the first time in her life consciously clinging to something – someone – so hard and yet knowing they were slipping away from her, despite her will. The worst thing about it was that there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her hair inveiled him as she leaned closer and gazed upon him, but it was the vail of death, not life. Healing had never truly been in her powers – she remembered she had barely been able to ease his pain, when his leg had been wounded – not that she’d tried very hard back then – but that had been at a time when her powers were still fairly strong and it had weakened her considerably nonetheless. What was there left for her to do now, when her whole existence hung on his life, when she was there because he was the only one to remember her? If only he hadn’t gone about it this way. “What possessed you to do this? You could have won, you should have won this…” She didn’t know if she’d said the words aloud, she certainly wasn’t expecting any reply, she knew there probably wasn’t any answer. He’d just made one mistake and now they would both pay for it. But she couldn’t help wondering how it could have gone this wrong.
The thoughts running through her mind were interrupted by his gruff voice.
“It tricked us both, didn’t it, milady?”
“What?...” Mab asked confusedly. Gods, he was delusional – or she was, for she was barely hearing his words right, let alone make any sense of them. She could try to, at least. She could focus – focus her gaze on him, focus her mind on his words. “What are you talking about? Do you know why this happened? What tricked us?”
Vortigern only gave a hollow smile – if it had been meant as a mocking smirk at the bitter irony, he certainly hadn’t managed to pull it off.
“…love.” Out of all the things she might have expected him to say, this caught her completely off-guard. Hate – silent agreement even – had worked so well, so why not stick to that, unless… She froze, stared at him with desperation. Yes, at any other time Mab would have mocked him and taken great pleasure from it too just like when he’d lost his mind, but not this time. This was different. And it hadn’t been just the word itself, it had been the acceptance, the clearest testimony that he didn’t believe he could make it alive, the proof that he was giving up. He was dying, but it hadn’t made him crazy – ironically enough, he’d seemed more lucid than ever. Exactly because he didn’t have anything to lose at this point. Neither of them did.
Her eyes widened, as his lost focus altogether. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening... Mab opened her mouth to say something – she would have said anything to make him hold on, to keep him there, knowing his existence was keeping her alive as well. And then, there was also the horrible dread that she would have no other chance to. So she nodded in response, but she had no time to reply further, the words dying in her throat, as her hold on him disappeared together with his last breath, and his body crumbled to the ground. “N… no… you must live, just to spite me, as always… to fight me, if you will… just live…” But there was no one left to hold on to life. Her vision blurred, but she couldn’t tell why. Maybe it was because of the shimmering crystals dropping onto his face, cool and clear like morning dew – that is what they might have been indeed, dew or just the last drops of the rain that seemed to have engulfed and drowned everything in it. Or maybe it was because of the fact that she was no longer there. It didn’t even matter anymore.
Nothing mattered now. He might as well have been right. He had surely been different from any man she’d ever known and he might indeed have been the only mortal she could have ever truly felt for, but that was what she had always fought, even with the price of his own life. She had known all along that love would only be her destruction, and here she was now, her worst fears confirmed without equivoque. She was screaming all the unbearable pain and the despair and desolation that had swamped her, and yet no sound was leaving her lips, because she simply didn’t exist anymore to the rest of the world. She was gone. Dead. And the realisation that she had indeed lost everything together with this battle and Vortigern was the most unbearable of all. The loss and the defeat were eating at what was left of her spirit, slowly being replaced by emptiness. She could barely perceive what was around her, she could barely see Vortigern’s dead body on the ground beside her and she still didn’t know how this could have happened – she had done everything she could, had tried everything... She just felt her eyelids so heavy, and keeping her eyes open seemed so hard a task now. But she would not give up, she would still fight until there was nothing left of her. And so Mab did the only thing she could do – focused on the small shred of light which was becoming ever dimmer, giving place to the eternal darkness she did not control and which was waiting with a patience to match her own to absorb her into oblivion forever…
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Post by himiko on May 21, 2008 10:52:13 GMT 9.5
It was strange, she thought dazedly, as she struggled to keep a hold on her last tiny scrap of life. Though she was fading away from the world, she could now suddenly hear voices growing louder. Two of them, male, it seemed, both familiar and yet strange- though in her current shattered state, Mab's mind couldn't place them. But perhaps, she thought, if there were others here, if they could survive, then perhaps she was not completely lost after all.
"Who are you?" she called out, her voice sounding hopelessly weak in the dim not-place between life and oblivion. Nevertheless, she forced herself to adopt her most commanding tone, "Show yourselves!" Neither replied, indeed, neither of them even slowed in their own speech. It was as though they couldn't hear her, and Mab realised with a sinking heart that they were not here in this place with her- they were simply tied to it in some way- normally she would have tried to puzzle it out, but now she had such precious little time left, there was no time for such things.
She could hear what they were saying now, more clearly than before, and she listened intently.
"...Why so regretful?" the first asked, voice laden with scorn, "You wanted your revenge, did you not? Now you have it. Everyone you wanted revenge on is dead and gone."
"She's gone, too?" the second voice asked, hesitantly.
"Of course she is, you foolish boy!" the first snapped, before changing his tone to something slightly more ingratiating, "Come, now, Mordred. Wasn't it her that stuck a sword through your chest and left you to die? Wasn't it her that never came back to mourn you?" Mab's eyes widened as realisation struck. Mordred- but that was impossible, wasn't it? Mordred was dead, she had seen him die, she had caused it... and they were talking about her, now, she was the woman they'd taken this revenge on. The voice continued, "Anyway, how else were we supposed to ensure her son's death? Making people forget her might have finished the good queen off, but the only way to kill Merlin at the same time was to do just this." Mab's blood ran cold- or it would have, had she still had it.
"No..." she whispered softly, now remembering how she had left her son behind, in the hope of reaching a solution that would save both of them. Rage warred with grief and she screamed loudly, "NO! Show yourselves to me, damn you! Face me!" Neither her rage nor her threats seemed to have any more effect than before, for they continued to speak.
"Isn't there anything left of her?" Mordred asked, finally.
"Not even the faintest whisper," his companion replied spitefully, "Such a pity. Did you not want her dead, after all?"
"Do not," came the snarling reply, "Do not mock me. Auntie Mab was ten times whatever you might be- and you knew it- that's why all you could do was sneak around whispering into people's ears."
"Still more powerful than you," came the reply, in a dangerously calm voice, "And, it seems, with little need for you, anymore. Perhaps you can join your beloved murderer after all..."
Their voices were growing fainter now, and Mab realised it was not them moving away, but her own tentative grip on what remained of her life loosening. Struggling against the blackness that engulfed her, her son dead and all who had known of her either dead or with their memories of her stolen, it was cold comfort that Mordred regretted it.
---
Something was very bizarre about this oblivion, Mab noted. For one thing, it seemed to have light- not much, but enough to startle her into stepping backwards with a cry of surprise. And there was the second surprising thing of oblivion. Her legs had been restored to her. Admittedly, rather shakily, she thought, as they crumpled beneath her, and she fell towards the floor.
Arms caught her before she could collide with the surprisingly solid floor, and a voice spoke over her head, "Mab!"
Finally opening her eyes enough to stare around properly, it dawned in Mab's somewhat confused mind that she was not gone, that she was in Anoeth. But how? Had she not left, hadn't she disappeared? She'd seen Merlin trapped in the Land of Magic, seen Vortigern die, she thought she remembered it all. She blinked, her mind trying to make sense of the blur of images running through it, only half listening to the conversation going on between Idath and Loke, who also still stood there.
"What now?" Loke was asking hesitantly, glancing at his sister.
"I don't know," Idath replied, "It was too unclear. I couldn't see anything, however deeply I looked. Mab looked into it far deeper than was wise, especially in her current state."
"Yes, quite, her current state," snapped Loke, "You loved my sister once, Lord of Death. Are you going to stand there and watch her die?"
The words seem to trigger something in Mab, as though she had heard them before, and she began to pay more careful attention.
"No!" snarled Idath, "Don't dare accuse me of apathy, not now. I can shield her again, and I shall think of something...." He was cut off from his rant by Mab suddenly pulling out of his arms, and staring between the Lords of Death and Fire.
"It's happening again..." she muttered, "This... I remember..."
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Post by Lane of Magic on May 21, 2008 15:13:56 GMT 9.5
She looked at herself again and she was there indeed. She hadn’t faded away completely. But how? What had happened, then? Mab struggled to put in order thoughts – memories – that were suddenly so confused, drifting through her mind in no apparent order.
“What?... What do you remember?” Idath asked confusedly, moving closer to sustain her, in case she fell again. He stared at the Lord of Fire, his displeasure at the man’s words obvious. He did not get a chance to say anything this time.
“Vortigern!” Mab breathed out, suddenly paler. She took a few steps back, a look of horror on her face, as memories of what had happened were coming back to her. Or, more aptly put, memories of what would happen.
“I don’t have much time. You didn’t…” She realised they hadn’t seen anything in the cauldron – she herself wasn’t sure what that had been all about, especially since visions into the future were not something that would usually come with her powers, cauldron or no cauldron. But there’s a first time for everything, they say, and she was sure to make the most out of this second chance she had apparently been given. Staring at both men, a smile crept onto her face, as if she’d just had another revelation, which in all fairness might have been the case. “I have to get to the World of Men.”
“But that would drain you of all your powers,” Idath said, looking as if he’d just been struck by lightning, whereas Loke stared at her blankly, obviously not following.
“Now?” her brother finally asked. Mab nodded, as things were slowly becoming clearer.
“Yes! Didn’t you hear I don’t have much time?!” She was about to flicker away from Anoeth herself, when another thought stopped her. She might not be able to come back, if she got any weaker. She remembered that had happened when she’d tried to leave her kingdom. And then, there had been more to this future, not just the way it all ended, although that was what she most wanted to prevent this time around. Her heart sank, as she remembered her son, together with the one that had caused – or would cause – his death. Putting together as many of the puzzle pieces as she could, Mab turned towards her brother.
“Loke. Go back to the Land of Magic as soon as you’ve gathered together enough of your powers to do so. And bring Merlin here.” She paused, briefly, frowned. “You might find him into a peculiar state of trance. I don’t know what that is, just bring him here, at any cost.”
Spinning around, she faced the other man, her voice somewhat sarcastic as she addressed him, “Idath, see if you can summon Mordred’s spirit.” Had the situation not required immediate action, she might have “praised” the Lord of Death’s amazing ability of not tending to his duties. She certainly was inclined to, seeing the puzzled look on the man’s face.
“Mor… But he’s gone, Mab.”
“He damn well should be!” she snapped, her mind reeling. She noticed the sudden drain of colour in Idath, and resorted to just shaking her head, gritting her teeth. “Just summon him. But firstly, I need you two to send me to the World of Men. To where Vortigern is, more precisely. Idath was right about one thing – using only my powers to get there will make it impossible for me to return. Especially if things go the way I know they will.” Admitting to needing help was galling, no doubt, but she’d be damned if she wasted precious minutes and risked speding eternity desperately calling out to people.
“Why would you want to go there now?” Idath asked almost pleadingly, still unable to understand her sudden decision. Mab narrowed her eyes warningly, then nodded to herself, proceeded to reply.
“Because he’s the only one to remember me in the future. Because whatever’s affected everyone didn’t affect him. Because if he dies, I die. Because he is heading for death as we speak, and I don’t want that to happen. And not only because of some preservation instinct, but because I-“ Her eyes widened, as she found herself in the Realm of Men all of a sudden. Mab smirked to herself, pleased with Idath’s promptness to do as she had asked him rather than listen to answers he might have already known, but sure as hell did not want to hear her say.
---
Initially, Vortigern believed he had gone mad again, as he thought he heard her voice, or some sort of whisper that resembled her voice, but was incomprehensible, too weak to grasp. He had thought about her, there was no denying of that, but from thinking of her to actually hearing her in his head when he knew very well she was not there was enough to make him question his sanity. It didn’t even begin to be funny. Vortigern almost shuddered at the thought, then shook his head firmly, as if to rid himself of whatever voices he might be hearing whilst also struggling to not look suspicious. He was leading an army, after all. Much to his dismay, however, it only got worse. He stiffened, as he felt a brush of air go past him on both sides of his body, and noticed a barely perceptible glitter rest on his hands.
“I don’t have much time, so you must listen very carefully,” Mab finally whispered into his ear. Having realised even he couldn’t see her anymore – that the only reason he’d been able to see her in the vision was probably the fact that he was no longer tied to life, just like her – and then having had to find a way to get to him had not exactly been beneficial for her general state of mind.
“Hm... Mab? Hm!” he mumbled.
“Just channel your thoughts towards me, don’t cough like an idiot!” the voice snapped back.
“Don’t call me names, woman! How could I have known you can hear me this way?!” He heard something that very much resembled an annoyed growl, but, to his surprise, no retort followed.
“…Point taken. You’ll know from now on.” Mab forced out. “Now listen. I know what you’re about to do. Don’t do it. Cornwall has found out about our plan, and now he’s going to trap you into an ambush. So you’re just going to have to… play illusionary army yourself.” It was something he had to admit he hadn’t really considered so far. But having anyone know about their plan was unlikely, anyway.
“How do you know that? Why didn’t you tell me until now?” Vortigern frowned, already suspecting deep down that all this might be a trap. For her part, Mab knew he was expecting a very good explanation, one she was afraid she would fail to deliver. But since it was the truth he wanted, he would just have to deal with what she told him.
“Hard to believe as it must sound to you, I’ve just… I’ve seen the future. That’s how I know.” Vortigern’s reply proved her right a moment later.
“Highly reliable, indeed,” he snorted, making her feel desperation well up inside her once again. She knew he was capable of sticking to his choice, just because he did not want to listen to her.
“Why can’t you bring yourself to believe anything?!” Mab cried, thouroughly exasperated by now. “You can feel my hands on yours, you know I’m here even though you can’t see me. You also know I can’t lie. You honestly think I would have come here and told you this without being completely certain?” He couldn’t reply either way.
Damn you, Vortigern, she thought to herself, then pushed forwards, so that they were thought to thought, heartbeat to heartbeat. “Now you can hear all I think, know all I feel. This is it – we either win, or we both die. Trust me! Feel me, feel this…” have to win this… remember… lust… hate… it tricked us both… love… She felt the man cringe. “Do you believe now?”
But then she was gone again and he was left with the hardest decision he had ever had to make. Vortigern’s whole being screamed against it – how could he blindly believe and just do what Mab had told him to? Perhaps she was right, after all? Had he been told about it, he would have considered what had transpired in the last minutes downright impossible. It could have been just his mind playing tricks on him. But then again, his mind usually thought very highly of him, and would not snap, unlike the fairy Queen, so no, he couldn’t doubt this had really happened. But he had reached a point where he did not know anymore what to believe. Damn you, Mab, Vortigern thought, gritting his teeth.
---
Being back in Anoeth brought more relief than she had expected. Mab took a deep breath, knowing she did not have to censor her thoughts anymore, inwardly wondering what exactly he had heard and whether it had been enough. But even if Vortigern did win his war, there still had to be someone for him to remember. And she might not be there, unless she stopped people from forgetting her.
“Well?” Mab asked, her voice as steady as ever, as she faced the Lord of Death once more.
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Post by himiko on May 24, 2008 12:36:09 GMT 9.5
Vortigern was genuinely torn over what to do. On the one hand, though Mab couldn't lie, he still wasn't entirely sure he could trust her- indeed, it was hard for Vortigern to be able to trust anybody, never mind someone who had killed him in the past. But try as he might, he could see no logical reason why Mab would side with Cornwall in this fight- he was far too devout a Christian to be any use to her- and every reason why the hideous, prattling woman who had hung around his castle long after outliving her usefulness, would want to see him dead- hadn't he sided with the very woman she had wanted revenge on, after all? Gritting his teeth, he thought about how very much he would like to wring the aforementioned woman's neck, which calmed him, slightly.
Eventually, after these musings, he sent out two of his best scouts ahead, to report back to him. To be sure, he was distrusting and paranoid- but how could he possibly lay claim to such a title if he ignored such a fatal potential threat as Cornwall's army?
----
"I've performed the spell," Idath replied, under Mab's expectant gaze, "He's proving tricky to summon, but the spell should be drawing him in even as we speak." Mab nodded in reply, as Idath began drawing together even more magic, "Once he arrives, we - well, I can get rid of him permanently." Mab shook her head impatiently.
"You will not!" she snapped, "Not yet, at least. I'm not summoning him here just to get rid of him, I don't have enough time to waste on doing your job for you." Idath raised an eyebrow.
"You killed him in the first place. He put a love spell on you, remember?" And, thought Idath privately, hadn't that just lead to even more troubles- Mab nearly handing over her son to her enemy, SLEEPING with her enemy- and if that had never happened, Idath wondered, would Mab now be looking upon him, Idath, more favourably? He didn't voice these thoughts, though. Mab was right, there was precious little time for this, and if Mab did die, though he would fight with all his strength to prevent it, then he didn't particularly want to waste their remaining time discussing Vortigern. Or Mordred, particularly, but it seemed that that, at least, was unavoidable, "Why do you want to talk to him now?"
Mab turned towards him, "I saw..." She was interrupted by a flash of fire. Turning, she saw Loke arriving, one hand steadying Merlin, who looked slightly dazed, and had a somewhat bruised jaw. She shot her brother a sharp glare, and he shrugged sheepishly.
"Well, he was in that trance, and I didn't want to use up all my magic before I even got the boy out of there, did I?" Sighing, Mab let the explanation pass without comment. Merlin looked confused and scared, but she doubted a great deal of that was down to Loke. Indeed, his unease seemed to be centred on the cauldron, which he stared fearfully at, and backed away from. Mab placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and both of them winced as it nearly passed through him entirely. Half-herding him, Mab ushered Merlin away from the cauldron.
"Stay with him, Loke," she instructed, "Keep him away from the cauldron." The gods only knew what it would do to him this time... And indeed, it had been timely, for a moment later, Mordred- or whatever it was he had become- finally began to appear. At first, nothing substantial, a cloud of bubbling, boiling shadow, giving off such a strong air of rage- but not hate, not yet, Mab assured herself, watching as the shadows began to form themselves into the shape of the man who's spirit occupied them. She stepped in front of him, hoping that she would catch his eye before Merlin or Idath or Loke did- that wasn't likely to trigger off a helpful mood in him.
"Mordred," she said, evenly, unsure of how to begin. She had killed this man. He had wronged her terribly, used her and betrayed her and tried to kill her son. But he would regret what he was doing to her- somewhere in that twisted spirit, he did love her, still, Mab knew, and that knowledge was all she had to cling to.
For his part, Mordred stared back at her, his attention drawn completely from the strange land around him, and to the sight of his aunt looking faded and pale.
"Auntie?..." he muttered, his eyes suddenly haunted by the sight, before he shook himself back to reality, "No!" he snapped, "You're not my Auntie Mab- she loved me, she rasied me, and when I died the first time, she was there with me!" He snarled the last part, and stared around, seeing the three men for the first time, and growing even angrier, "What the hell do you want with me?!" he demanded. Mab's heart sank. This wasn't going well.
"I know what you're doing," she began, "At least in part. I know you and your friend, whatever he is, are making people forget me." Mordred nodded sulkily.
"It's too late to stop it now," he snapped, "It was meant to kill the wizard, but I see you've thought of that, already. If you already know, what do you want with me?"
"It's killing me," she replied flatly, "I'm going to die soon without followers. I saw the future in the Cauldron of Rebirth, Mordred- you will regret it, and he will turn on you, and nothing will be left of either of us." Mordred's expression flickered for a moment, but he still forced himself to look somewhat disinterested.
"What is it you want from me, exactly?" he repeated, "Because I'm already dead. I don't see why I shouldn't see you dead- you chose him over me," he pointed at Merlin, "You slept with Vortigern, when you were supposed to be in love with me. You killed me."
"I want to know who it is you're working with, what he is, how to stop this. And don't dare fling accusations at me. You would have killed Merlin had I not killed you first. And at that time, I slept with Vortigern because he threatened to kill you if I didn't. He forced me, and what makes what you did to me so much better? You took advantage of me, too. You used me. That's not love, you foolish child!" Mordred's glare intensified, only to be interrupted by Idath, of all people.
"Look at her, Mordred. You say she's not your Aunt, not the woman who raised you? She is. Your life was a future that never came to be, for us. Your aunt is merely who Mab would have been at that time. Look at her, and tell me you can stand to see her die."
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Post by Lane of Magic on May 27, 2008 10:59:41 GMT 9.5
Having recounted everything, even if only to point out to Mordred just how wrong he was in his accusations had made old wounds open. The fact that things had changed in the aftermath and had become much clearer once the spell had been broken did not erase the humiliation of it all, and Mab gritted her teeth, wishing things had gone differently from the very beginning.
Even so, she’d had time to let everything that had happened with Vortigern sink in – her killing him, his taking his revenge on her, their mutual hate, their alliance despite all odds and whatever genuine understanding between the two had resulted from it, turning into something else. That was all nice and good, she had dealt with it. But this here was another story, one which, admittedly, had been forced upon her as well, through a spell, which made it worse, and also, one which she had pushed to the back of her mind. Now that she thought about it, she had no idea how to go about this, for she did not know who she was dealing with. She didn’t know Mordred, the only thing she knew for a fact was that he would be sorry if she disappeared completely.
“Look who’s jumped in to protect her,” Mordred sneered, cutting through her thoughts, obviously annoyed by Idath’s sudden meddling. But although he tried his best to hide it and had succeded spectacularly in appearing as unimpressed as before, the man’s words had indeed touched a soft spot. He had wanted his revenge on the woman who killed him, there was no denying of that, and he was most definitely intitled to it. …wasn’t he? He had convinced himself that she couldn’t be his his Auntie Mab, because she would never have done that to him – but then again, he’d never tried out any spells on her.
His own reply seemed to stir something in Mab, who had been trying hard not to glare back at the one who was responsible for all the horrible events that had lead up to this. She did notice the short look of confusion that crossed his face, and was almost grateful for Idath’s intervention, but to have Mordred – or anyone for that matter – think her weak on top of it all, even now when she was fading away, was not something Mab would let pass.
“I don’t need protection, Mordred,” she spat, her blood boiling, as she remembered the sweet nothings the boy would whisper in her ear, about never hurting her, but becoming her champion. She’d been blinded to everything back then, and despite the fact that she had thought he was making her happy, this was not who she was.
“If there’s anything, anything at all, that you’ve learned about me – or the future version of me that you came to know as your aunt – is that I’ve always managed everything on my own. And make no mistake, I’ll fight to the very end this time around too, whether you tell me what you know willingly or not. But don’t expect me to beg you for answers, or ask for forgiveness for killing you after everything you caused, because I won’t.”
If there were a definition of how a ghost could look paler, Mordred would most definitely have been the example to support it. A much more visible look of confusion contorted his features, as he saw his very own Auntie Mab, as proud and unyielding as he’d ever known her.
“I didn’t mean to cause all this! I was on your side – I am… But you killed me, that’s why I…” he trailed off, suddenly trying to justify his own actions to himself. No, Mab realised that he obviously didn’t hate her, and whatever it was he was feeling for her seemed to make him faulter. Seizing the opportunity, she forced her voice to a softer tone, almost of understanding.
“You only made a mistake. You never should have used a spell on me in the first place. Who knows, maybe things would have been very different otherwise…” Mab did not believe that, had no reason to, but the glint in his eyes proved her right to let him think that. Ridding him with guilt and making him realise this had indeed been the worst way to handle things did seem to make him more malleable, more cooperant. Letting out a sigh – for theatrical value mainly, but also, as she later realised, because she herself did regret it had all gone this wrong, and did need to put this truly behind – Mab proceeded to basically killing all his hopes, before he imagined anything else, “We cannot go back now. But it’s not too late for you to make things right – tell me what you know.”
“I…” There was not much else he could say – he just stared at her, while she was still there – while they both were. If it was more than understanding he was looking for, Mab highly doubted she would be able to say or show much else. Still she reminded herself that she would have known him in the future – that apparently she would have been there when he died – and a warmer smile graced her features.
“Just tell me.” Mordred finally nodded.
“He’s a spirit too, but not like me – there was something about him that made him different, that gave him his power. But I didn’t think he would want to hurt you – he said that spell would only make you happy and this shouldn’t have gone this far, it was only supposed to be the ‘scare of your eternity’….” he trailed off again, realising he’d truly been a fool to trust that spirit. “It was meant to make you see that this so-called son of yours is completely useless, that you were wrong in choosing him over me…” A look of sheer hatred came back into his eyes, as they shifted towards the wizard. “It’s Merlin who should not still be here, but dead,” he snarled, on the verge of using whatever power he himself had and try an attack on the wizard, however ineffectual it might have been – he might have been what people would name a ghost alright, but here in Anoeth at least he seemed to have regained his human form back.
“She would always tell you not to get carried away, don’t let her down now,” the wizard said suddenly, earning himself some visibly confused looks from everyone, but Mordred, who frowned, stopped. Mab couldn’t help feel she would be grasping at straws, but Merlin’s words did seem to have had a certain effect on the boy, so she stepped forwards, after shooting Idath a brief look – he had to be ready to just end this all, in case she didn’t manage to get through to him again.
“Mordred. I would tell you that, wouldn’t I?” she smiled again. The boy nodded still throwing the wizard the odd glare – no wonder she would say that, Mab thought. “Forget about Merlin, just look at me. I know you don’t want me to fade away – I know that now. But I need to know more. Who is he, what does he want?” Much as Mordred hated the spirit that had been helping him, he couldn’t but agree with him about one thing, and his reply was sure to leave no doubt about it.
“He wants that traitor dead as much as I do!”
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Post by himiko on Jun 7, 2008 9:46:27 GMT 9.5
Mab's blinked uncertainly, and she turned to follow Mordred's gaze, as though to assure herself that it was indeed Merlin he was talking about. The wizard stared back at her, looking nervous, but Mab didn't dare go and try and calm him- the gods knew, Mordred was obviously angry enough at merely being in the other man's presence, and at the moment, he was the only link she had to whatever was doing this to her.
"Why does he want Merlin dead, exactly?" she asked slowly. Mordred eyes narrowed, his mouth opened wide indignantly, and then closed again, as he pondered for a moment. A confused look moved down into his eyes.
"I... don't know..." he admitted, musing to himself, "He never said specifically. Just that the wizard deserved it, that he was owing a life." He shrugged, clearly not seeing why having a reason to hate Merlin was so significant- he saw no reason why it shouldn't be the default feeling as far as the wizard was concerned.
Mab felt a faint sense of dread. Deserves it... a life owed... payback... revenge... "He will suffer"...
Blinking, she jerked herself out of her thoughts. Surely that wasn't possible? But then, she thought, glancing over at Idath once more to see if he'd reached a similar conclusion, she found him staring back at her with a similar sort of dread. Mordred peered back and forth between them in confusion. In the end, Loke stepped forward.
"You two have gone very quiet," he observed, glancing at the pair of them, "It doesn't usually bode well." Mab didn't reply, just turned back to Mordred.
"Mordred... this spirit of yours- can you lure him here?"
---
His spies had arrived back an hour ago. They had confirmed what the Fairy Queen had already told him, and now Vortigern was forced to work out an entirely different battle plan. Though he was disappointed at loosing such a huge advantage over Cornwall's army, part of him was glad that he would have the oppurtunity to crush the upstart Duke all by his own means. He disliked having debts to others, however pretty or powerful they might be. And, of course, killing always brought that certain satisfaction...
EDIT: Tis not very long, I fear, the proboards problems clearly fried my brain, too XD
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jun 9, 2008 8:33:49 GMT 9.5
Heh, I'd say it was the lack of pestering... (A) Also, doesn't time fly by? Who would have thought I'd be writing this when I first started a year ago? [/nostalgia] --------
The look of confusion didn’t leave Mordred’s face, the helplessness he was feeling inside reflecting itself in the twitch of his mouth as he tried to think of a way to accomplish what his Aunty Mab had asked him.
“No. I’ve no… idea how to force him to come here. He tied me to him, gave me whatever substance and power I still have in this state…” He couldn’t really keep the unhappy tone from his voice when finishing the sentence. And he certainly hadn’t proved highly useful so far, much to Mab’s dismay. She didn’t let her dispair show, however, unlike the general anger she was feeling, as she faced Idath again.
“So they have a magical bond. Can you reinforce that, and have it bring our… this spirit here once Mordred’s spirit moved on? It would be the reverse of the spell I did in Merlin’s case, but you surely don’t object to this one, Lord of Death?” Idath nodded, avoiding her gaze, unsure whether it was hate or just disappointment and hurt he would see in it. Whichever, he knew he deserved it, but he was also determined to make things right at last.
“I don’t want to let go…” Mordred said almost pleadingly, looking for any hint of understanding in her. This had been what he had feared all along, and despite all the disappointment and ultimately unhappiness that he was now aware he had caused her, he still hoped against hope that there was something more he could do, something to redeem him in her eyes, to make her see him the way she would have, had the future he’d come from not been altered beyond repair.
“I know.” But in truth, she only knew this much, and precious little apart from it. All she could do was hope he had only fooled her by casting that spell. He was just a child after all, a confused, spoilt boy, one who claimed to love her. Mab knew that he probably did, in his own way – that was what made the betrayal sting all the more. “You said you had died for me, that you weren’t afraid to do it again, were it necessary. Now I’m fading away and you can help me stop it. Don’t let your death be in vain, don’t fight Idath’s spell…” she said soothingly, her eyes flickering to check that the Lord of Death was indeed performing the charm, “…nor being drawn to the cauldron. Don’t be afraid to let go.”
She nodded encouragingly to the visibly torn boy, and let out an inaudible sigh, as he began to disappear, taking with him mountains of the hate, humiliation, letdown and frustration that had piled up inside her once the spell had been broken, without her even realising. But as she herself had said, it was time to let that go, and now she too could do that. Of course, it was little joy for Mab, all things taken into account. Turning towards her brother and the Lord of Winter as soon as the spell had been cast and Mordred’s spirit absorbed into the cauldron, she showed no sign of either relief or despair, her features perfectly composed, although there was a sort of urgency behind the sarcasm initially lacing her voice as she spoke.
“Very well. Now, assuming Idath actually did something right this time and the spell worked, he should be here any minute.” She was also aware of just how much power she had left, which made her all the more unsettled. “We have to think how to vanquish that… thing once and for all.”
“That thing was once our son.” Idath was the one to say it, but reminding her of it only made Mab stare at him in disbelief, part of her unable to grasp how this had come to pass.
“He is dead, he does not belong here, and he is what’s killing me!” Mab growled, the anger masking the pain tugging at her. She let out a bitter laugh at the irony. “Just as you said he would.”
“Not meaning to interrupt – family drama is always nice…” Loke stepped in grinning somewhat awkwardly, not paying that much attention to the wizard who was stood a few feet from the three of them. “But you seem to forget a small detail. He’s part of you, whether you like it or not, which, unless I’m mistaken, makes this situation somewhat special, as his spirit is still somewhat… immortal. How are you going to vanquish that?”
“Good point, Loke.” Mab remained quiet for a few moments, considering her brother’s words. She only frowned. He undoubtedly would not be as easy to maneuver as Mordred. And he wasn’t likely to “let go” any time soon. “Hm.”
“We all could use with a bit more, if you’ve thought of something,” the Lord of Fire replied, looking at her intently. “Have you?...” Mab waited another moment to answer, her gaze shifting between the two men consideringly.
“Maybe. I’m disappearing because he’s used some sort of spell on people to make them forget me. And that’s exactly what we’re going to use against him.” Loke did not seem very convinced of the idea, while Idath didn’t even voice out his thoughts. He knew it was better to keep them to himself until he thought of a better solution.
“Are you suggesting we cast the same spell upon ourselves?” the Lord of Fire asked, but Mab shook her head.
“No, one spell on me was more than enough. It’s him we’re going to affect. And not by using the same spell, which he would obviously recognize,” she added, before either of them could point that out. Turning towards Idath, she continued, “Idath, you’re the one who knows the specifics of what we’re about to do. More precisely, you are going to…”
There was a powerful sound and the sudden light that invaded the room they were all in blinded them briefly, making it impossible for Mab to finish her sentence. As she turned her head, the first sight that greeted her made her breath stop. She saw Merlin had been flung against the opposite wall, as a result of some sort of unexpected explosion from the cauldron, which for better or worse did not look any different. But before any of them could react, a new sort of mist had appeared, slowly gaining a more definite shape. Mab didn’t need any introduction to know who this was.
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Post by schaffner15 on Jun 9, 2008 10:07:16 GMT 9.5
One question: What is all this about Mab ?
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Post by himiko on Jun 11, 2008 11:16:07 GMT 9.5
One answer: A great long massive multi-person ongoing addon fanfic in which Mab is the main character. Because she is blatantly awesome. --- Mab took a step towards Merlin, saw the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and reluctantly turned back to face the mist rapidly forming itself into the shape of what had been her younger son. Idath stepped up beside her, watching silently. Mab knew that part of his silence was due to pain- after the child's death in the forest, Mab had tried her best to suppress the memories of her dead son, painful though they were, but Idath had wanted to remember the small child that had died, his son, their son, and that was part of what he saw when he looked upon that figure. Casting her eyes around for Loke, Mab noted gratefully that her brother had positioned himself between Merlin and the spirit. Turning back to Idath, she muttered under her breath, "We have to make him..." A voice interrupted her. "Well, well, my mother. How time flies- though I can't say it's treated you particularly well..." Mab turned around, eyes narrowing as they fell upon a figure that she had once embraced and said goodbye to in this very kingdom. A bitter, malicious smile adorned his face as he spoke to her, before shifting his gaze to Idath and opening his eyes wide in mock delight, "And look, father standing here beside her. This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you were whoring yourself out to Vortigern these days, mother?" Mab's glare grew more intense, as the spirit continued to speak, "And this must be one of my uncles? Oh, and even better, my dear brother and his shattered mind- allow me to congratulate you on that, by the way, mother, father, between you, you made a brilliant job of ruining dear mother's golden child. Quite the family reunion..." His voice had gone hard and cold in the last few sentences. "You seem perfectly well informed," Mab spat, "We didn't bring you here to catch up..." The spirit shrugged, and spoke flippantly. "No, I didn't think so, more's the pity. You brought me here because you found out about my terrible plans for the Old Ways, and all of you, and because that foolish boy went all noble and soft on you again in his final moments, I presume?" He seemed to take the silence that followed as a positive answer, "Well, now that I'm here, what precisely do you intend to do about it?" Mab's answer was cold, clipped. "I'd say it's more a question of what you think you're going to accomplish now. Merlin is no longer in my kingdom. My death will not kill him- you have failed." Her son raised an eyebrow, and shot another glare at Merlin's prone form. "I did notice." His voice changed again, then, back to it's previous self-satisfied smugness, which was far more unnerving, "Still, you'll be dead soon enough, and your little brother not long after that, by the looks of him...," Loke's eyes burned dangerously, but he didn't move from his position, "...And then there'll be no-one left to protect dear brother." Idath spoke, his voice quiet. "You're forgetting me, I think." His son snorted. "Oh, yes, father. You, who still looks at me as though I can be "saved"," he spat bitterly, "You who thinks so very highly of Merlin. Is that a flicker of worry I see there, mother?" "You're wrong," snapped Idath, "I grieve for you, I will not lie about that, I cannot. But I know you can't be saved. You were in my head, remember, that knowledge went both ways. I won't let you hurt Mab's son. And if she dies because of you, then I promise you, I will make you suffer for it." "You can't kill me," the spirit snapped, "I'm immortal, remember, by virtue of my illustrious parentage." Despite the sneer, however, there was a flicker of uncertainty. Mab saw it, however hard he tried to hide it. He was uncertain of his own invulnerability, he hadn't had the chance to learn about it from the two who would know most - she and Idath. And perhaps they could use that to their advantage. "I didn't say kill," Idath growled, "I said suffer. The difference is subtle, but painful." "Do you really think yourself immune to Anoeth's pull?" Mab stepped into the exchange, staring evenly at her son, "You died once before. You might be proving tricky to move on, but in the end, you will." "Then it appears that we shall both be disappointed," her son said quietly, glaring back at her, "Your followers have forgotten you. The process can't be reversed by a simple spell, even if I'd wanted to." Mab flinched, as though she'd been struck. Part of her had hoped that somehow they could break whatever spell her son had placed over her followers, and everything would go back to the way it had been before. She focussed once again, just in time to see her son's spirit shoot a cautious glance over at the cauldron. It seemed he was nervous to get too close to it, and Mab recalled her earlier plan- he has to forget this hatred, forget Merlin, everything that's happened, we can make him let go if he can't remember his hate... Before she could try and communicate any of this to Idath and Loke, however, the spirit's smug smile returned, "By the way, mother, speaking of people forgetting you..." He trailed off, and let his gaze drift across to Merlin. Mab, Loke and Idath followed his gaze, and stared in shock. Merlin lay still, where he had been a few minutes earlier, but not he was surrounded by a glowing mist, bubbling forth from the cauldron. The Cauldron of Rebirth. The cauldron that had taken Merlin's memories once before. Mab screamed wordlessly and took a step towards her son, only to feel herself being caught from behind by a strangely cool grip. "Oh, no, I think you're better placed to watch from here as Merlin forgets the few memories left to him, still..." Her son whispered to her, "... Including you- I do hope there are still some others alive who remember you, mother..." He didn't get the chance to go on- Mab, Loke and Idath struck with their magic simultaneously- almost pitifully weak in Mab's case- sending him staggering backwards. Mab sprung forward, ran to her son and caught at his arms. "Merlin!"
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Post by Lane of Magic on Jun 15, 2008 13:05:25 GMT 9.5
Having seen Mordred’s spirit vanish like that had left the wizard still confused – he had been right in what he had told him, that much was clear now, but those were not his memories, but someone else’s. He had seen things while the walls of the Land of Magic were crumbling, particles disintegrating, carrying with them so much knowledge of past and future, and so many memories – he wasn’t sure if he could call them that, or rather dreams or visions, but he knew it had not helped in getting any of his own memories back. And despite all the progress he had made in his study of magic, despite all the encouragement and patience Mab had constantly shown him, he knew it wasn’t enough. Something was still missing, and it was a part of his life he wanted back, badly enough that he had managed to fight off his initial aversion, and approached the Cauldron of Rebirth, of which Mab had repeated on many occasions that it held the answers. He glanced into the liquid surface, and it started to glow more and more brightly, but then he was flung backwards, and everything turned black a moment later. Mab’s voice pierced through the blackness, calling to him, bringing him back, and he slowly opened his eyes.
“Merlin! Merlin, look at me… do you remember me? Merlin, focus!...” He stared at her uncertainly, his mind reeling with images and a cacophony of sounds – so many voices, questions, and answers – his whole body hurting. He knew Mab was still speaking to him, but the words kept drifting across his mind and he could not make out what she was saying, let alone answer in any way. But slowly, all the random thoughts began to gather in his mind, and he remembered the lastest happenings… as well as the rest. Looking at Mab’s fading form, he finally replied, somewhat awkwardly.
“Yes, Mab, of course I remember you.” As his eyes regained focus and Merlin took a better look at her, he paled seeing how her hands practically went through him. It seemed like forever since he’d last seen her, although he was aware that he’d talked to her only moments before.
“So you’re alright?” Mab asked, her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out for herself the answer, the relief of knowing he hadn’t forgotten her overcome by the uncertainty of exactly how well he was. Merlin just nodded and went to stand again.
“I am now. I remember you… everything. Gods, what’s been happening to me all this time?” He felt his breath catch, as his eyes met the spirit’s hateful gaze. “I remember you too… brother.”
Mab blinked in surprise, “But if you remember, it means the cauldron…”
“The cauldron’s restored his memories,” Idath finished her sentence, frowning as he looked at the magical object he had once cast aside. The smile of joy at having her son back did not last long, turned into a grimace of worry and confusion.
“But this was not supposed to happen.” She looked towards her brother, but he seemed as surprised as her if not more.
“Bloody chaotic,” the Lord of Fire commented, his voice somewhere between puzzlement and interest, the corner of his mouth turned upwards into a rather fascinated grin. Idath’s expression, on the other hand, was still grim, unfathomable, and he remained quiet, pondering, despite Mab’s questioning gaze. Had he known that this might be possible, he surely would have told her, which meant that something had happened to cause this change in the cauldron, and it was once again unreliable. Her hopes died together with the plan that had been forming in her mind.
“What is the matter? Aren’t things going to way you wanted, mother?” the spirit interrupted, his confidence renewed. He had indeed been afraid of the cauldron, of being drawn to it and losing even this existence that he had left, but now the cauldron seemed to have a mind of its own, and it wasn’t favouring the Lord of Death apparently – both he and Mab were staring at it confusedly, respectively rather helplessly.
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