Chapter 1: As if I Met Her in a Dream
"Hello dearest-" Akua started, interrupted by the icy hand plunging through her chest.
Going to have to be faster to avoid that. Her soul whisked away to her fallback plan. The same one that Catherine had used to bring her shade back the first time. As her consciousness receded into the darkness, awaiting Catherine's retrieval of her soul, she made a mental tally.
Attempt number one.
+++
She did the mental equivalent of flipping a switch and the scene of Catherine struggling, and failing, against Sve Noc disappeared like coin before a Taghreb. Frustrating and disappointing. Her ambush on Sve Noc had failed again, the goddess' pulling out another trick that had driven her back and in turn left Catherine open. There had to be a path through the knock off deities. It was just a matter of her finding it.
She opened her eyes to see the familiar sight of Catherine standing above her, wreathed in winter and wroth as her hand was poised to scoop Akua's heart from her chest.
"I come from the future-" she tried, only to be interrupted as Catherine's hand plunged into her chest.
Not even a pause? It's admirable how dedicated she is, but I would have so many more options with an actual body. I'll have to try something more disarming for the sixth attempt if this one fails.
+++
Had she been a fool, she might've mistaken re-living Liesse at the start of every reset as the cost of her folly.
"Sausages-" Akua shouted quickly as Foundling's icy hand descended for her heart again.
"What are you trying?" she growled in return, not wrongly suspecting that Akua was trying to delay her own execution.
"They're very good in Summerholm I hear?" she tried experimentally. Asking for any sort of extension or obvious attempt to delay was always met with summary execution. Trying to escape was impossible, this was Catherine at the height of a Story of her own making. It was a reversal as well, which made trying her own reversal nearly impossible. Magically, she was spent, resistance had also proved futile.
Catherine narrowed her eyes and the hand plunged into her chest once more.
That stubbornness is a touch less endearing this way…
---
"If I may?" Akua asked, looking at Catherine as she stood with her back to the fire, looking out into the darkness with her mind half a continent away.
Catherine bobbed her head and Akua could feel her assent through their link. Being a shade had its benefits, even if she really would've preferred to have kept her flesh and blood. Being a shade was unfortunately restrictive.
"The Hierophant should go with you to the Everdark. There are tales of old things in the dark down there that predate even the records of the Dread Empire. I suspect his unique aptitude will be more appropriate down there than I would be," she suggested, delicately but not so delicate as to be seen as manipulation.
Catherine shook her head. "No, Zeze has made it clear that he's going. I can't force him to stay. I mean, I could. But I won't. That sort of thing would undermine our friendship and let the rot in."
The shade thinned her lips. "In that case, would you allow me to make preparations?"
Asking for Vivienne or Hakram would be pointless. If she was to ensure Catherine triumphed against Sve Noc then she needed a higher caliber of Named than what they could bring to bear. Those two of the Woe were certainly fearsome in normal matters, but the level of power they'd be fighting on would leave all but Hierophant woefully inadequate. Frankly, she thought, they could leave Indrani as well and it would make little difference except to Catherine's mood.
"No. We're not going there to make war on them. If we go in with sorcery ready and weapons drawn, we'll destroy our only chance at peace. We don't go in with violence in our minds," she said decisively, her voice sour with bitterness.
"Being prepared for a treachery and violence from a race whose sole defining features are treachery and violence is not picking a fight, it is common sense," Akua tried, though she already suspected she had lost this one. Catherine was bitter from having to argue with the half of the Woe who would not be coming. Her stubbornness was increased ten-fold when she was in a mood.
Catherine turned around, whirling on her. "I have repeated myself too many times tonight. Do not make me do it a single time more."
Akua sighed. She would have to find a different angle. Perhaps during their approach to Great Strych she could convince her to take a different path. The negotiations with the dwarves were another pivot she could leverage. She left frustrated. Surely this fate was not so set that she was destined to fail every time. She had to be doing something wrong here.
+++
Akua looked out over the encampment below. Drow milled about, organizing themselves as they acclimated to the new order of things. It was a remarkably boring affair, mostly a matter of logistics and some minor bickering. The various sigils of Drow had enough upheaval on the regular that this was, while an unusual diversion, not something entirely foreign to them.
She would have to be very careful with what she did here. Catherine had extended enough trust to her that she was speaking to and organizing many of the Drow in her stead. It was an opening that was too obvious to exploit. If she started any plans under that guise Foundling would sniff it out as surely as if she was planning to backstab her. This did not stop her from studying Night though. Every power had its weakness, every form of magic its downsides. Night was no different and she would find the chink in its armor.
Though it would be easier to focus if Indrani wasn't so damnably loud.
"Queen of Ice my ass!" Indrani shouted from the tent giddily.
It came as no surprise to her that Catherine had eventually given in to Archer's advances. The roving eye of their queen was the worst kept secret in the kingdom. A trait that Akua had been happy to exploit herself at times, but she had known it would never reap the same kind of success as Archer had found. Simply put, given the choice between Indrani and herself after months of isolation, Catherine would pick Indrani every time. The Butcher of Liesse had no place in her bed and never would.
That was fine. She didn't need to seduce her in order to save her, to make things right. It wasn't that she had fallen for Catherine, she just hated seeing something not reach its full potential. Wasted talent was truly one of the only unforgivable sins in Creation. She would see Catherine reach her full height, though that might require a change in diet if she wanted that literally as well.
What was it with Callowans and that horrible sauce they put on everything? She supposed it had to be an agrarian society thing. Proceran food was equally as distasteful, while the foods from Mercantis and Ashur had much more refined palettes. A snide quip about the cows not being the only mindless herbivores there would've been in order, but frankly after how many defeats she had suffered at the hands of Callowans, it would ring rather hollow.
She settled in for a long night of study. The secrets of Night were myriad and she knew it would take even her some time to unravel them. Now that she knew what Sve Noc could do, she could work on a counter. She wouldn't see Catherine stopped by two sisters who had dug themselves into a pit so deep that even Below didn't want anything to do with them.
---
Akua Sahelian was rarely one for crude insults, not because she didn't recognize their value, but she found that she could better demonstrate her superiority through the scathing and pithy retorts. The Longstride Cabal had annoyed her over her various attempts enough that she had lost interest in bantering with them. The only Drow with any sort of sarcastic wit seemed to be the Tomb-Maker anyhow.
"You are, as Catherine would say, a fuckhead."
+++
Sve Noc struck and this time she was ready. The knife slid into the goddess' back and she slipped away back into the chaos of Night and Winter before she could be struck. Catherine was taking advantage of her gambit to take a bite out of Night. It had been tough, pushing her towards being primed to fight Sve Noc to the death rather than compromise, but it seemed to be working.
Akua saw one of the sisters sneaking in the darkness, her visage still out on Sve Noc while her conscious extended a tendril to encircle Catherine. She snuck forward, working Winter into the trap, creating weaknesses where none had been. When the tendril snapped to shut Catherine in it instead broke, shattering as the veins of untamed Winter tore the working apart.
Catherine took advantage of the opening, taking a bite out of Night as if it were an apple. The imagery disappearing in a flash as Sve Noc became the wasps that often laid eggs in the fruit as it rotted. The damage was done though, the battle won in a sense. Winter and Night were not evenly matched, but both were fonts of the godheads that controlled them. Once one got an advantage, even a small one, that power accumulated rapidly like a mudslide down a hill. With Catherine now leading the ever shifting dance, the balance had shifted and so the fight had changed from one of trickster versus thief to victor chasing down the survivor.
She watched silently, ever active, the eternal knife in the dark. She would not be outsmarted again by two failed would be ascendents whose best accomplishment was prolonging the dying of their race over long centuries. Who had hidden in the Everdark, cowering the entire time, as their reach grew shorter and their power waned. Had Catherine not come, the Dwarves would've surely ended the stunted goddess in their invasion. That it had only taken the three of them to approach her seat of power and turn part of her empire against her spoke to the fragility of it all.
It galled her that she had failed Catherine before, failed her over and over as she re-lived every waking moment from the Battle of Liesse onwards. Akua watched as Catherine predicted the gambit before her, changing rapidly to consume the snake as an iron-tailed hawk. Here was Catherine at her fullest, securing power that she would make far better use of. It was enough to give the shade a feral grin, one that she kept entirely out of existence.
"There doesn't have to be any more death. You tried to save your people and failed. Work with me, give me something here, and we can do better," Catherine said in the inky distance of Night.
What was she doing? Akua had counselled her on their options going in, on how Sve Noc's powers were based off being a thief. There could be no trust there, no bond. Nevermind that she was friends with the literal Thief, there was a difference between it being one's Role and being the physical and metaphysical embodiment of the idea.
Sve Noc hesitated. They had been backed into a corner by the unexpected reversal. Every trick they had pulled, every use of Night, had been countered nearly perfectly. It had been as if fighting against Fate, the tide inevitably kept turning against them. Now they were being given an out, they could see the shape of that story. Returned to stewardship of their race, under a new set of terms, with a new distribution of power.
"You would shackle our entire race as soldiers for your war. Trading one bargain for a worse one," she said coldly.
Catherine sighed, shaking her head. "At least you'd be doing some good instead of perpetuating your murderous clusterfuck. What would you have done otherwise, when the Dwarves came knocking again? You lost against them centuries ago, this time they're committed to wiping you out to the last dzulu. You fucked up, there's no arguing that. Joining with me you can finally make a bargain that isn't designed entirely to fuck you over or end in the destruction of your race."
"And so you come with lofty ideals, holding in one hand extinction and in the other a whip. You are no different than nerezim or the Shrouded Gods. A deal with you is just another poison that will seep into the bones of our people. A taste of godhood and you think to determine the fate of a people is so easy?" Sve Noc laughed bitterly at the last sentence, the laugh growing until she began to gurgle, Night flooding from her mouth.
Catherine frowned, not stepping back, but wary as the Night began to spill forth. "I know it's not that easy, but better this than-"
"Then so be it. We await the empty husk of your shattered ideals when you find only failure ahead. Take your prize, but know that you are not the only one capable of poisoning the chalice," Sve Noc declared, melting in the expanding pool of Night.
Akua rushed forward, trying to find the sisters in the roiling Night. They had all but disappeared, violently shedding their godhood, relinquishing their claim. The chaos of the unclaimed mantle hiding them as they fled, riding the currents of Night in a way that only one who had lived as the very Night itself for centuries could do. She bit her lip in frustration, fingers curling tight into her palms and then relaxed. It was of no matter for the moment, Catherine had won, the mantle was hers.
She turned to Catherine and saw her staring at the roiling pool of inky black Night with a contemplative expression. She turned to Akua, who had finally dropped her veil now that the sisters had been defeated. While it could've been a trick, shedding one's godhood was a poor one to try.
"I can't help but think it would be a bad idea to jump into that, but I'm not quite sure how else to claim it. Sve Noc didn't exactly leave a crown…"
"As if that has stopped you even a single time from doing so. Yet you already have it dearest, you simply have to exert your will and enforce your claim," she replied, hiding her relief. So many tries, but finally they had made progress.
Catherine snorted. "Odds that she left a nasty surprise?"
"Only Indrani would make such an obviously terrible wager," she quipped in return.
"Well, nothing for it. Let's see what it is," Catherine said, stepping forward and sinking into the pool.
---
She had found the sisters embraced together in a catacomb, many miles beneath the twice broken corpse of a city. They never saw the knife that plunged through their now all too mortal forms, flesh bereft of all but the last vestiges of power, more real than the blade itself. There was no such thing as a harmless loose end in this world. Her hand had not hesitated, not like it once had as a child. Yet the image of them curled together in quiet solitude would not leave her mind.
Why? Was she going soft after spending so much time at the side of the Woe? While it could not be said that she was sharpening her iron in the classic sense, she thought that hers was ever the sharper for the lives she had lived. What Praesi could boast such experience with weeding out imperfection, save for her?
And yet she found herself yearning more for the comfort of the fireside with the soon to be reunited Woe than the seat atop the Tower. For that vague, unplaceable emotion that bubbled up when she thought of how she found the sisters. Frustrating. She'd have to be careful not to lose herself or her drive, she was living in a state not meant for true life and for periods far longer than even her captors realized. The effects of such could not be underestimated.
Where others cowed and preached caution, however, a Sahelian saw an opportunity. She had more time and direct access to the manipulation of the soul than most mages could dream of. It would be slow work, but now that she had secured the path to Catherine's survival, she could develop her understanding of the ephemeral state.
---
"Her soul is being rent asunder. It's frankly speaking a miracle itself that she has not shown more effects until now," the Heirophant said, frowning sternly as he examined her body on the dissection table before him.
Akua paced silently behind him, watching every move of the delicate magics that stripped the scaffoldings and attachments from her soul. "But can she be fixed?"
"Perhaps if I had been with her when she accepted the power. As it is, the trap they left has had too long to fester." Masego paused in his work, head tilted down as if he was looking at his feet. "I don't know what else can be done. Perhaps if my father were still here, I could…"
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "The Warlock was a brilliant mage, but he was not you. And Catherine placed her trust in you, not your father. If anyone in this world can fix what was done, it is you."
The shade came fully next to him, gently taking partial control of the magic that kept her soul in a stasis of sorts, the chaotic rot inside that fed on her very essence frozen in place. "I will help you. The two most brilliant minds of our age will work together and we will save her," she uttered, committing the silent hope to voiced certainty. "But I can not lead you. She did not place her trust in me, Masego. She trusts you, and always will."
Like one hand atop another, she slowly guided the magic into his grasp once more, her hand able to guide his, but not hold the burden for him. For though everything she had spoken was true, it was not out of sympathy or reassurance that she spoke to him. She was crafting a story, one of the oldest and most flexible in existence. That of a friend overcoming grief and hardship to save the ones closest to him. It could not be her, not without it being a sacrifice. But Masego, he had both the role and the skill to pull through.
She would not see her lost.
It took days of unceasing work. The Adjutant was even more of a shade than she, silently drifting around out of view, replacing what needed replacing. Tinctures, scrolls, wax, enchanted ink. Everything was where it needed to be, when it needed to be. Nothing was left empty, no supplies unreplaced. Food was provided for Masego, the bare minimum he would take and just enough to keep him going. Vivienne stayed out of the lab, running the affairs outside so that the three of them could focus on Catherine. Indrani had roamed far afield, for what purpose she knew not. The girl had been different ever since her fleeting brush with death in the Underdark.
For six days and nights they toiled, until even her reserves were beyond gone. Her mind stretched to the limits of what it could handle. She had held the tools, performed the procedures, chanted the High Arcana. Masego had led the dance, cutting the smallest shreds out of her patchwork soul, warping the very fabric of it in ways that seemed at once contradictory and impossible.
On the seventh day, she woke. More than half her mind lost to the corruptive rot. The left side of her body sluggish and painful. Hard won skills lost or degraded. But she woke.
Seeing their success, she turned back the clock once more. She would see Catherine wake next time, but whole. There would be no entreating the universe for her back, broken and crippled, this time. Only perfection would suffice.
+++
Dear Catherine,
I stopped keeping count of the lives through which we have met by now. I quickly realized it was a pointless exercise and that only one thing matters. Results. With each repeat of your life I grow more capable, we make it further each time. This time was almost a success. We got as far as making it out of the Underdark before the costs became too much. But don't worry, I am not content to let you survive a middling outcome.
This I share with Hakram. I have not had much time with him, as the nature of our lives entwines me mostly with yours, and Indrani to an extent, but he is in many ways a kindred spirit. While I could never dedicate my life in subservience to another, he and I share the passion for perfection. Good enough is not good enough, for spirits such as us. I respect his drive to see you drive forward to ever greater heights.
I suspect I will need to do something about Indrani. She cannot survive the merging of Winter and Night by a hair's breadth or it leaves her fractured. Nor can she be lost, she is more critical to the Woe than I was previously willing to recognize. Someday she will leave to seek her own path I'm sure, but her story within yours must finish first. Where that will go, I cannot say. Despite being an expert on this chapter of your life, I cannot predict perfectly what will happen from here.
You would hate this, I think. Being repeated over and over for the pursuit of a perfect outcome. You always like to get down in the mud, kick your way through people repeating the same mistakes, and hammer out something that will work for long enough to move onto the next fire. But I am not you and this is what I can bring. The drudgery of perfection without your having to live it.
I do wish you'd stop ripping my heart out at the start of every time though. That never gets less uncomfortable.
Akua Sahelian
A/N: Small update after quite the long absence. I make no promises of any further, but hey, if a Dread Emperor can tie himself to the moon to try and escape death, I can do the same with my fanfics.
