Sisters of the Moon

[Rowan Finnegan]

It was a fever dream, Rowan was sure of it; still, she was able to grab a hold of the Source and Channel Air. It made no sense, but there it was. Rowan felt the ecstasy associated with the magic and realized that she did not need to summon the Voodoo Loa to do he bidding to achieve the desired results. With a strained effort, she wove the element of Air and shoved a ball of it into her empty eye socket. The blood was staunched and she tied off the weave, Rowan sighed, relaxing into Vale’s embrace.

                “I did it, Vale…” Rowan murmured in a dazed tone, “The Elements listening and I did not need the Loa… Do you see? It no longer bleeds…”

                Rowan’s right hand gestured toward her empty eye socket on the left-hand side; indeed, no blood fell from the socket anymore, but it was still a ghastly sight. Pink flesh lined the socket and it was plainly clear to any that would gaze upon the left-hand side of Rowan’s face. She gasped. Despite the ethereal bandage she placed upon her empty socket, Rowan was still feeling the effects of blood loss.

                Vale’s face looked down upon Rowan and it morphed, in Rowan’s eyes, into her belated husband. Those hard angles and brown eyes… Rowan’s hand came up to Vale’s chin and stroked it, “Percy… I thought you had died…” Rowan murmured almost to herself, “The King is here. He cannot lose. Another comes to take his place… But he must live… He might kill me… But he must live… His goal is to keep humanity afloat… He will lead us into the 2nd age. Yes. The 2nd age. Percy. I have seen it.”

                Rowan started laughing despite herself. She was delirious, looking up at Vale. She gasped and clutched Vale’s wrist, “Armande is the way. He will kill me. But he is the way. He knows…. Oh, he knows… Don’t let him kill me…” Rowan started to weap despite herself, “Don’t let him kill me… He has a weapon… Don’t let him…” She murmured as her eyes closed. Rowan slipped into an unrestful sleep, her head resting in Vale’s lap. She convulsed and shook as visions of the future took hold, although when she would open her eyes, she would remember nothing. “Weap for your salvation. He wields the power of the Gods, though he denies it. Weap for your salvation. He seeks to end me, though he cannot. The White Eye protects me and the Black Eye validates me. Oh, weap for your salvation. The Champion of the Black must not destroy the Champion of the White. One Age dies as another Age rises. The Champion of the White survives and the Champion of the Black falls. So it shall be. Oh, weap for your salvation. This Age dies and the next shall flourish, although we may cry. Remain steadfast, for the strong shall protect the weak. Remain steadfast, Black Eye. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. The Champion of the Black holds doubt in his heart. Oh. Weap for your salvation.”

                Foam began to rise from Rowan’s mouth as her remaining Eye bulged and her hand clasped Vales, clutching it and crushing it as if the light of the Universe depended on it.

[Valeriya]

She held Rowan's head in her lap as the woman fell into delirium. It was a normal reaction to the Awakening as the body was shaken of its sins and a new vessel emerged. "Shhhhh" she pushed her while Rowan drifted through the spaces between worlds, she didn't know the word for it. Either way, if Rowan survived, she would emerge a strong, luminous Khylsty. 

She leaned low and perched a kiss on Rowan's lips as she slept. Matvei and Illarion hurried their brethren to tend to her wounds and administer some of the medicines that Armande taught them. The bleeding stopped by miraculous spirits, but she wouldn't leave her until the danger was passed. 

When Armande returned, she would tell him all that transpired. The Eye was doubled now; the Eye spoke clear warnings. 
"He won't kill you," she promised.

If he tried, she wasn't sure what she would do.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Percy’s face shifted from Rowan’s vision and Vale took his place.

                “He won’t kill you,” she murmured soothingly.

                Rowan’s brow furrowed at the sentence. Where had Percy gone? She began to fade in and out of consciousness for an hour or two; perhaps more. She had no concept of time. Vale stayed with her for most of it.
 

---

                After a time, she awoke with a gasp, her mind clouded. Half of the world was black in her eyes… Or rather… Her eye.

                The ritual seemed to be fading rapidly from her mind. She had plucked out her eye because of a vision. Yes. Rowan remembered that but what happened after? She could recall speaking uncontrollably… Like someone else was moving her tongue. But what was it that she had been saying? It had been oh so clear to her until Vale spoke. Once Rowan heard her sister’s words, it was like everything started slipping from her. She had tried to hold on to it, but it was as good as trying to grasp a fistful of water.

                Rowan was not sure where she was. Presumably, she had been moved to another room, as she now lay upon a bed. Candles had been lit around her, but no other sources of light. If there was a window, she could not see it. Vale wasn’t in the room either. Just blackness and the soft, ethereal glow of the votive candles.

                A sense of panic welled up in Rowan’s stomach. She reached up to her face, hands fumbling for her missing eye. She felt something there, but she couldn’t see…

                It was gone and that orb of hardened Air filled the void.

                She really had done it. What was she thinking?

                It was that vision… She saw her death at the hands of Rasputin’s current incarnation. That man… She knew she did not like the look of him… Removing her eye had been the only way to ensure her survival in that vision. She did not fear death, but there was so much left to do in this life. She did not fear death, but that did not mean that she had to embrace death. And that man… Armande… There was still a danger within him, of that she was sure. Despite her rash actions of the day, Rowan made a silent vow to proceed with caution.

                With an effort, Rowan got up from the mattress and staggered to the door. She reached for the Power, it was there, she could sense it, but she could not grasp it.

                Still too weak, I suppose… Goddess, am I hungry! They better have something to grub on or I’m likely to eat this door… Rowan thought to herself.

                Food… She needed food, but first she had to find her sister.

                Her Vale.

[Valeriya]

She perched a hand on her hip as Matvei stared down at her. He was taller, curse him, but Valeriya's eyes were daggers. "Our ancestors acquired congregates from many faiths," she told him.
"She is not one of us," his voice was stern. 
"None of you are born Khylsty."
Matvei gasped, offended. Valeriya crossed her arms under her breasts, "Only Rasputin and his descendants are born Khylysts." Her chin tilted high, smug smile parted her lips.

Matvei scoffed, "You mean you and the Regus," he said.

Valeriya shrugged. That indeed seemed accurate. Armande was the reborn Rasputin, and Valeriya, as Eye, was the descendant of their former Great One. 

"So you see, your logic is flawed, Matvei. Anyone can be Khylsty if they Awaken."

They paused when they were interrupted by footsteps. Valeriya dismissed the Hand with a wave of hers. He glared, gathering his long coats about himself like the way he once grasped his robes, and left them alone.
Rowan was there, glorious and whole. She smiled broadly, hurrying to her sister. 
"You're awake. You will recover." They grasped hands.

[Armande]

His room felt strangely alien. It had only been a short time. Perhaps a few hours at most. Odd how the VR simulation had been as real as reality itself. And yet, from a philosophical sense, not odd at all. In fact, simple.

In the end, every perception was merely information fed to the brain along nerve bundles. Sight, touch, smell, and taste, all signals processed by the brain. So what truly was real? And could you tell the difference? If your brain were hooked up to VR inducers and you weren't told, how could you prove it wasn't real?

Relativity asked the same question. If there was no way, from inside an enclosed space, of detecting whether what you perceived as gravity was merely due to acceleration or was from a planetary body, scientifically and mathematically, they were the same.

He grumbled in irritation. Philosophy never truly gave answers. Only a new set of questions to get lost in. At the end of the day someone had to make decisions based on what they perceived as real.

And Armande had done that.

The war had only begun. He needed to find Valeriya, to tell her what had happened.

As he entered the common area, Matvei stalked by, though not sparing a glare at him. At that moment Armande made a decision. He had outlived his usefulness. Before they left, he would be dealt with. They could not leave a snake in the nest while they were gone.

There, in the clearing midst, he saw his love, her hands held by a taller woman with hair of gold. He froze, stopping his walk. She didn't need to turn her head. He knew it was Rowan's back he saw.

He looked back at the rapidly retreating Khylsty throng, their demeanor a mix of fear, unsurety, or anger, his heart began to pound in worry. What had happened? He strode closer, ready to face this threat.

"Valeriya. What has happened, my love?" His tone did not hide his worry or his resolve.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Rowan sighed deeply as Valeriya clasped her hands. She looked down at the raven-haired beauty and smiled at her, gazing upon her features with one good eye. It was strange not having complete vision. The darkness to her left made her want to constantly turn her head for fear that she might be missing something in front of her. That was foolish. Valeriya was here, her safety net, and that sulking man, Matvei, was quickly retreating from the room.

                “I’m feeling much better already, dear sister. A little light-headed, but better. I never thought a rebirth would be comfortable. Perhaps later tonight you can tell me about your awakening? This is all so new to me… But it feels right.”

                She wanted to ask her sister what had happened during the ritual, what was it that she had said? Ever since she opened her eye, the memories were flitting away faster than a hummingbird. There were still traces and feelings just a few moments ago, but now there was nothing at all. Rowan wouldn’t even have known she had done a ritual were it not for the missing eye. Her hand went up to feel at the gaping hole, almost absent-mindedly.

                The moment was shattered when he returned.

                “Valeriya. What has happened, my love?”

                Rowan slowly turned to her right, the one good eye settling on Rasputin’s incarnation. Ever so slowly did she turn, until her hands released Valeriya’s, her body and face completely turned to the older man. She did not blink, did not shudder, did not breathe. Rowan simply looked at him, watching his face for any indication that he noticed her missing eye or any recognition as to what that had meant.

                A flicker of lights shone above Armande’s head and Rowan felt her flesh turn into goosebumps. A slight tremor began to shake her body and she reached out for her sister, grabbing at the air behind her, seemingly unable to take her eyes off of Armande. Silky skin met her hands, lithe fingers encircling her own. The tremors subsided almost immediately.

                Everything went black.

 

---

 

                Rowan and Valeriya floated along an expanse of empty darkness. Rowan screamed, but no sound issued from her lips. It was as if the void swallowed up every word she tried to shout. Panicking, Rowan spun around to look upon her sister, not daring to let go of her small hands. Judging by the other woman’s expression, she too was aware of the reality shift.

                Somewhere in the distance, the sound of leaves rustling echoed across the void. The women looked up to find a field of green erupting from the silent blackness. Grass, dirt, and moss sprang up wherever Rowan looked; and then trees, flowers, and vines exploding up and out of the newly made soil. The trees reached for the heavens, ascending high enough that the tops were no longer visible; they too were swallowed in the blackness above them.

                A large, bulky figure moved about the underbrush to their left. Rowan’s head spun, but she saw nothing more than shadows receding. Sounds of footfalls on dirt made Rowan turn again, her head whipping back. A clearing had been made in front of them. Rowan gasped, and this time she heard the noise escape her.

                The Ascendancy was before them, kneeling in the dirt, his head downcast. Armande stood over the other man, looking victorious. Silently, he bent to scoop up a crown that had been left discarded on the ground between him and the Ascendancy. Armande held the golden circlet aloft, glory blazing brightly upon his face. Light exploded from the crown, white-hot light, searing phantoms into Rowan’s vision. The light grew and grew, blinding them.

                With a pop, the light shrunk back almost instantaneously. The crown shook in Armande’s hands. It began to melt in his grasp and Armande gave a shriek. Strings of golden liquid splashed to the ground, causing their reality to quake. The ground vibrated roughly as a large vine, as thick as Rowan’s wrist, rose up from the spot in which the gold collected. Panic flashed across the faces of the men as the vine grew longer and longer, weaving around the pair. Within seconds, the vine had grown into a large, grand cage that had captured the two men.

                Reality flashed white, much brighter than the light that had come before, and the ground beneath them groaned. The void beyond the forest grew bright, blinding light piercing through the gaps in the trees. The two caged men looked to the light and began to scream. Tears streamed forth from Rowan’s eyes as everything before her was obliterated by the light. A crashing boom shook the air as the trees, dirt, flowers, and even the men were turned to ash. Everything was set alight, burned away in seconds, leaving only the cage of vines behind.

                Rowan, Valeriya, and the cage floated along in the void. Panic welled up in Rowan’s throat at the sight. She looked to her sister, searching for answers, for something, but Valeriya had nothing to offer. Turning back to the cage, Rowan saw two fully-formed skeletons resting at the bottom of the cage.

                Reality shook once more.

 

---

 
                Rowan blinked.

                She and Valeriya were entwined in each other’s arms, both resting upon their knees on the hard, sterile floor.

                “….Skeletons in the cage,” Rowan found the words coming out of her mouth.

                Had she been speaking the whole time? Narrating the vision? Or had she been unconsciously commenting to herself? Was that another vision? It had to have been. Ever since she had met Valeriya, the things had been coming upon her hard and fast; so very hard to distinguish from reality. With an effort, Rowan let go of Valeriya’s hands. They were shaking. Both of them had been shaking… And her face was wet. The tears were real.

                Rowan looked to her sister, completely ignorant of Armande, “Did you just see….?”

[Armande]

The sight of his dear Valeriya's hands entwined with that woman's stoked a bubbling burning sensation in his gut. After Apollyon...no. It could not be tolerated. Only....the look on Valeriya's face stopped him, love and pride shining through. Somehow they had bonded. In just a short period of time, she had wormed her way into Valeriya's heart and affections.

It was galling, as he knew it was all fake. For all her strength and resolve, his dear love was a child in many ways, naive to those of the above. The Khylsty- all of them- had been known to her from birth. There were no surprises in them during her time as Eye. But people of the surface were alien to her. They did not recognize her authority or bow to her will, however resentful they might be, as in Matvei's case.

Would Valeriya see through flattery? Trickery? Would she be subconsciously awed by the manifestation of the power of the gods? Even he was surprised at how...intense such things could be. At least the things he'd seen Brandon or Vellas do. Not the foolish playing of that boy at the restaurant. Of course, any awe he felt was immediately translated into revulsion and anger and a desire to destroy. Which came from years of indoctrination and teaching.

None of which Valeriya had. He would have to think on a way to free her from such an influence. The war was on. And Valeriya was his partner and lover. His Queen and his consort. She was key to defeating Apollyon, his secret. She could not fall prey to such influence. He needed every weapon in his arsenal.

The woman turned and Armande felt his stomach drop as his mind tried to register what he was seeing. A warped darkness shone out of one eye socket, reddish black- dried blood- smudging the bruised skin around the remnants of eye. He stared, the hair on his neck standing up. He had seen Valeriya's back. Ilarion's burns. Roots of tongues ripped from the mouth. Missing fingers. Even castration.

The Khylsty were serious about their Awakening ritual, the barbarism an undeniable outward indicator of how important their beliefs were. However else they might feel about each other- including Matvei himself- no one doubted another's devotion, not after that. No one deformed themselves voluntarily unless they truly believed.

And Rowan had done it to herself. How, he did not know. But the missing eye was a sign to all of her commitment.

Armande felt shaken to his core, unsure what all of this meant. He looked from her to Valeriya, the pride beaming from her smile making far more sense.

He opened his mouth to speak when both women gasped, fear and horror falling across their faces like a blanket. Hands clasped together and one voice- one voice somehow made up of two voices, one Russian, the other English- came from their lips. His mind seemed to split, hearing both, the words and sentence structures different, yet one single stereophonic meaning flowing into his mind.

Two voices vividly painted a picture. The room disappeared and he saw everything clearly, the clearing, the crown, the cage, the light. The death. Saw and felt panic threaten to overwhelm him. He breathed deeply, swallowing bile, trying to calm the nausea and fear that wanted to reduce him to a dried up husk on the floor- as if to make the vision of him a reality here and now.

He could almost hear the dead silence that hung palpably over the vision, the cage and their burned and darkened skeletons quiet as the tomb.

The Chong Rann enveloped him and he floated in its depths, his flurry of emotions leeching into the nothingness until he was perfectly still, once more at peace. Gradually, normalcy returned and he was aware of Rowan and Valeriya's shaken voices, no longer bound as one, speaking quietly.

He studied Valeriya, peering into her eyes, thinking. It had been what she had seen all those months ago, the vision vouchsafing his victory. Only more. There was more to the vision. He looked at Rowan. Was it because of her? The two of them....together?

If Valeriya had been his key, a single Eye to see for him, what did that make her and Rowan together? He had thought her vision real? Did that mean this was real? Would he and Apollyon die together? Both of them? It was then Armande became aware of a small smile forming on his lips. No. A feral grin as he considered the possibilities.

Death had never scared him. Not fulfilling his purpose was what kept him up at nights. Trying to figure out how to win the battle against the prophesied Destroyer of the world. Eradicating him from the earth. It was why he had been born, taking his first breath the day after Brandon had. It was why every experience of his life- joy and pain- had shaped and prepared him..

If he died destroying the Destroyer, he would count it the culmination of that life. A life of meaning, of purpose. Destiny.

To fulfill his destiny, he would do anything. Apollyon had to die. The rest could be taken care of. The keys were there, he was sure. An infrastructure to carry on his work. Fate would see to that. He still had much to do. But he could now see the finish line to his long life. The end of Abaddon, the angel of the Abyss.

And it brought him great joy.

He walked closer to the shaken women and held out his hands toward each of them, his face not unkind. Finally he understood. "Come, my Eyes. Let us talk. You must help me understand."

[Rowan Finnegan]

Rowan’s limited vision blurred in a swirl of watery colors as the vision receded. She felt the ground beneath her, felt her dear Sister’s warmth close by. In and out, in and out. Thoughts whirled as quickly as her vision. Her breathing. She had to focus on her breathing. In and out, in and out… Things stabilized as she looked up into the face of Armande. He wore a soft expression as he gazed upon them, one she had never seen before. He almost looked like he cared. How much did she dare trust this man? Did she have a choice now? Her lot had been cast the moment she plucked the eye from her skull. No. This was the man she had unwittingly allied herself to. And for what?

                The visions, Rowan thought to herself numbly.

                Everything came with a price. She had been all too eager to pay it. Regret was not the right word. Annoyance was better. She had not thought this through entirely. The siren call of heightened psychic prowess was too much for her to resist. Oh, she had gotten what she asked for, but would she have made the same choice twice?

                Rowan looked to her left at Valeriya.

                There was something there. Some intrinsic connection between the two of them. She didn’t even know the woman’s Zodiac sign, but she knew there was something deeper. One day, she would understand it, but for now, it was a comfort to know of the synergy.

                It was clear now that Vale had experienced visions before. Had they been this powerful before she met Rowan? Or was this raven beauty the reason for Rowan’s own visions manifesting so powerfully?

                Rowan looked back to Armande, taking his hand. She smiled in appreciation as he helped her and Vale to their feet. No time was wasted in taking her own hand back. An eyebrow shot up and she found herself speaking without thinking once more, “Did you see it too? Did we speak?” She searched his eyes for some recognition, “You know what we saw… Somehow.”

                The images flashed through Rowan’s mind once more. They did not leave her as the last one had. What was the purpose behind that? It still irked her that she could not recall the last vision. Only Valeriya could have possibly known what it was about. Perhaps this one had been more important.

                “This falling star will be thy bane,” Rowan recited the words once more. She had spoken in verse during the vision. Yes. The words were coming back to her. She did not hear it in her trance, but she knew now. Words had definitely come forth from her and Vale. “Armande, that was a nuke… Please do not tell me you are stockpiling weapons of mass destruction. Please.”

                Would it be much better if the Ascended was hoarding nuclear devices? No. But if that vision was the future, she’d have slept easier knowing that she was not allied with a terrorist. That would never do.

                A shriek rose in the air as Rowan looked upon Armande. It was the same one she had heard when she first saw him. It was, what she had learned, to be the telltale sign of another Channeler. It wasn’t always a scream. It was a different sound for everyone. For him, though, it was a scream. He denied his internal talents, so bringing it up would do no good. But what if… What if that wasn’t a nuke in the vision? What if this man had been destined to fight the Ascended? What if he awoke in such a duel? What if it ended the world?

                A migraine erupted in the front of Rowan’s skull.

                Too many questions.

[Armande]

Armande's smile didn't change as he pulled both women up, though he did feel a hint of amusement flash through him. And then he looked at Valeriya. Her eyes were hooded and he felt stab of pain. How quickly a person's heart could be divided. Rowan had done the unthinkable, forever cementing herself as Valeriya's counterpart.

And in doing so, Armande had lost a bit of that part of her whole heart. A slave never appealed to him. She was a lionness, a leopard. Two arrogant and strong willed people did not share a bed or power easily. But with the two of them, it was manageable. And a joy.

A second person now vied for her affection.

Armande had made his plans, prior to his meeting with Abaddon. No matter the cost, Valeriya had to learn to view channelers as he did. She was to be kidnapped by channelers. The rest was to be worked out in real time. Dangerous. Tragic. But in the end necessary. Very necessary.

His meeting with Apollyon had changed that. Had made everything clearer. That was the war. The focus. As if in confirmation, the two women together had a vision, cementing that that was the correct path. Even if it cost his life, that was the end game. And worth it.

The universe- Maya, Kismet, fate, someone larger than him, whomever- was in charge. And a weight had fallen off his shoulders. He had his battle. Central. Pivotal. But others would carry on.

Rowan did not have to die at his hands. She was his tool, now. Maya would take care of her and all other channelers.

He looked at Rowan and gently touched her underneath her empty socket, careful not to pain the puffy angry red skin as the body struggled to deal with this horrific excision. Wonderment shone in his eyes. His voice was kind. "The cost, Rowan. Such a cost. You are Khylsty." He looked at Valeriya, gently touched her cheek. "You see beyond, my beloved. You knew. I am blind without you. Show me the way. The above must be safeguarded above all."

He led them both by the hand to their private sleeping quarters. He sat on the floor while they sat on their pallet. He looked at Rowan. "I did not come to destroy the world, Rowan, but to save it. I have no nuclear weapons at my disposal. We only exist to safeguard humanity against the darkness that forever threatens."

He paused, breathing. "But yes, I saw. When she speaks....when you both speak, it seems I can see the vision myself. Tell me, what is this fallen star? Is the vision certain?"

He reached a hand to Valeriya's, held it. "I am happy to trade my life for mankind. Tell me that is what this means. Please!" He looked at Valeriya. Adoration plain in his eyes. "Others will follow after me. The world of men will not be swallowed by the long night. It cannot be."

[Valeriya]

The power of the Eye blinded Valeriya with such ferocity that she trembled with fear. It struck her face, that bright light hotter and whiter than when the sunshine first prickled her skin. The skeletons flaked to ashes, swallowed by their cage of vines. The burn sizzled her face, but she did not turn away. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was an open maw of silence. Pain dug claws through her face, a hot-poker digging into her eyes. She would go blind if she did not turn away! But the white light consumed them all, and she was horribly fascinated with the shape it began to take. A pillar taller than the skies with branches wider than a mountain and the white coiled to yellow, then orange, and finally red.

As a child she saw blue ceilings and green towers, things of imagination that would horrify her brethren. More of the same filled the Eye, terrible and powerful things she did not understand. She huddled upon herself, arms wrapped tight around her knees, raven hair spilled as she buried her face downward. Tears leaked her eyes, but one was on fire while the other leaked water. Pain rippled with horror. The world she newly discovered was doomed to destruction, and she was powerless to stop it.

The Eye blinked and the spell broke, but Valeriya’s tongue was frozen to the roof of her mouth.

It slowly came unglued but she did not yet lift her face, “light brighter than the sun,” she whispered, “you are trapped, beloved. You’re trapped together,” her crying continued but wet only one side of her face.

Hands pulled her up, her beloved’s strong, determined hands lifted her like a leaf. When she peered upward, it was with half the light that once filled her view.  

She clasped Rowan’s hand, but with the other, gripped Armande’s. “The falling stars will blind the world,” she touched one eye gently, finding the skin around the socket puffed and swollen. Strangely, no pain remained. It was numb.

“But in that destruction comes cleansing,” she blinked, somber for the understanding. “I only now found the Above. I will do anything to prevent losing it. I will never be buried again!” Her lip curled, eyes roaming circles in their sockets as though she tried to view all of existence at the same time. Her neck craned backward as her hands clamped upon the fingers of her beloveds, “We will fight anyone and anything. The Above must be protected at all costs.”