Episode Twenty-One: Finale

The guard rushes back upstairs and pounds on the doors of Ivetta and Father Tobias. “It’s- your friend, Castor! A man, he's taken her!” they rouse a search party but they turn up empty. “We’ve searched the entirety of the Vatican grounds but found no trace of either.”

The two interview witnesses who say they saw 10 riders on huge horses storm out of the Vatican. One man believed that he had dreamed them. A man was caught sneaking in. Tobias interrogates (tortures) him a while. Threatening to leave him to bleed out if he continues withholding information. He speaks in riddles and asks them if they know where Castor is. Befuddling them further. Tobias leaves him to bleed out on St. Andrews cross. Later, Ivetta saves him.

The pope is looking to lay siege to a Mora vos Malus base in a monastery nearby and has announced that all who belong to the mora vos malus are hereby, excommunicated.

Castor regains her senses for the umpteenth time in the past two days. She's met with a dull pain on her back and chills. Her temple throbs, she's sure that there grows a nasty bruise. She takes a moment to know herself before she gazes upon the fresh hell she's gotten herself into. She's exhausted and weak, her magic a mere flicker, in no condition to fight her way out of this. Cold and wet, she starts to get up, rubbing warmth into the arm that had soaked in the stoney floor's temperature.

Looking around, she sees very little. What she does see is dark, lit by a single dim torch. A single stone wall stands behind her, the other three walls composed of solid iron bars. Outside of the cage, to the right then a few feet farther and left, stairs lead up.

Inside the cell, she sees only a small drain and a body curled in the corner. The same young woman as before, still out cold. Castor's hand habitually goes to her neckline to hold her cross, to find comfort in its familiar weight, but she finds its missing. Castor tries to wake the other gently, "hey, are you alright? Wake up."

The other doesn't stir. She uses some of the water and splashes some on the young woman's face. She lets out a disgruntled moan, as if she's being awoken from a pleasant slumber. Castor persists. It takes nearly an hour of prompting but she finally wakes.

Her eyes snap open and she backs away from Castor, fear shining in her eyes. She stands and surveys the cell. Castor takes in her appearance. She stands about 5'7", fair skin, freckles, and deep brown eyes, black hair and wears brown garments.

Castor stands as well and tries to soothe her, holding up her hands placatingly, "it's alright! We're alone. Are you hurt?"

She relaxes slightly. After a few moments she ponders. Then she starts making movements with her hands, Castor recognises this as a language. One that, somehow, she knows. "Do you understand?"

Castor responds with her own hands, "Yes, I understand... Are you okay? Are you hurt? What's your name?"

Ignoring the questions, she spells with her fingers "Chati?"

A hint of fear flashes across Castor's face but she moves her fist up and down indicating the affirmative.

"Then we really are doomed."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?"

"No?"

She chuckles and says, "you really don't know, do you?"

"Tell me?"

"You're a chati. So am I."

Taken aback, slightly gladdened, yet still puzzled, Castor asks, "Isn't that a good thing? We can work together to get out."

"I can't use my aschar and neither can you."

"Why not? What did he do to us?" Air rushes from her nose in a chuckle and she smiles.

"You've had no training? Who is your master?"

Castor simply shakes her head.

"I don't suppose it would hurt to share my knowledge." She sighs, signing, "Chati of any number in the same realm can't go into aschar. That means I can't get us out of here."

"I thought our powers were only lessened." The young woman shakes her head. "Well, then we'll find a different way out! There must be a way! My friends will come. They're looking for me, I'm sure. I hope."

"There is another way…" Eagar, Castor looks hopeful but it is dashed as the woman suddenly plows into her. Castor shoves her back. Having been caught off guard, her push is too forceful. The lady careens back and hits her head on the stone wall. She slumps down it and sits dazed. Castor vigorously apologises but it's clear the young woman needs time to recover. Castor withdraws. She scours the cell for any scrap of anything to get out. Finding absolutely nothing, she crosses the cage and sits against the bars opposite the other. Miserable, lonely, exhausted, scared, and a million other negative emotions, she hugs her knees huddling up as small as she can. Tears prick at her eyes as she sits, waiting for answers to her thousand questions.

After what feels like hours later, the other young woman stirs and sits up. Castor watches her carefully from across the cell. The woman's hands move, "Why did you leave me alive?"

Castor looks hurt. Slightly affronted, she says, "I'd rather have your help than your dead body."

"If you had, you could have gone into aschar and escaped."

"If I had any control of it perhaps."

"I can."

"So you kill me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You let me live."

Tired of the topic of murdering each other, Castor asks, "What's your name?"

The young woman shakes her head and parrots the question back at her.

"Castor. Castor Macarbo."

She smiles. "Your magic, you're drained. I can tell."

Castor sighs, rubs her temples then says, "There have been more than a few fights in the past...hours."

"I can give you some of my mana. I can't use it anyway, a sorceress put a hex on me."

With chagrin, and sarcastic enthusiasm Castor signs, "I could use it to light up the cell," she drops her facade and continues, "whatever good that would do."

The woman laughs aloud but it quickly turns into coughing. She finishes her fit and draws her hand from her mouth. Castor spots flecks of blood. Her eyes blow wide. But the she glosses over it, "I'm going to die. When I die you might be able to use the little magic I have left to use your aschar. But first you'll need to know how to activate it. Are you willing to learn?"

"Yes. Please."

She stands and speaks in English, "I will teach you." She sits, motioning for Castor to sit in front of her. She unfolds herself and edges from her corner to the designated location. Cross legged facing one another, the woman speaks again with her hands, "Meditate. Calm your mind. You have done this before, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, tell me what you know about aschar."

"It's a power that comes out when I'm emotionally distressed or just before someone- i-is going to kill me."

She nods. "You know the reactionary aschar. But true aschar, it takes years to learn. You cannot master it in a day. But perhaps I can lend you enough magic to try. When I tell you to, hold my hand." Castor nods mutely, hanging on to every word. "Ashar is dangerous. I can tell you are not magically skilled. Your magic is not strong and you are weak. But I can tell you what I know. If you meditate deep enough you'll be able to see your past lives and act as them. In those visions, you'll need to do something. I can't tell you what. You learn in the course. If you're not strong enough you'll go mad and end up back where we started. If I join your soul to mine we can try to force it. Any questions?"

Castor bites her lip, "Will you die if we do this?" She laughs and coughs. More blood comes up.

"The joining won't kill me. Blunt force trauma will. Anything else?" Castor shakes her head. "Alright. Now, take my hands and meditate."

Castor does so, clearing her mind and trusting. After some time it feels like she's fallen asleep.

She feels the cords of a hammock underneath her and the gentle sway of a ship. Wood all around, she's in a room by herself with golden things decorating the space. Some scrolls next to her read out a bunch of names and shipments, a manifest of some sort. She exits the room. A man dressed in leather armor with dark skin holding a spear bows. "My queen, do you need something?"

Castor pauses, then says, "I'm going to take some air." She walks upstairs and sees a few people on deck. An ancient man at the helm. Men without shirts work oars moving the boat gently in the wide river. The boat is small, meant for river travel. Sandstone and clay houses line the banks of the river, lush green plants amongst them. Beyond the green lies endless sand, shimmering with heat waves. Three pyramids loom in the distance. Coming into the dock, a man tells her, "we will be in Cairo in a moment." Nice little house on the bank, unsuspecting and demure, unexpected of a queen. Men begin unloading her things.

An emissary walks up to her bowing before he says, "my queen, I believe we have an opportunity. Caesar remains in Alexandria with Ptolemy. A deal might be able to be made with this Caesar and eliminate your pretender."

Wayyyy out of her depth. Castor asks, "A deal of what nature?"

"That is up to you pharaoh." A gnawing headache hits Castor. The background fades for a moment, she remembers that this isn't real, before it snaps back to clarity.

"What would be the best course of action?"

"I would not presume-"

"I am asking you."

"Rally an army. Break through to the city."

"Would this course save the most loss of life?"

"It would eliminate your brother, the pretender."

"How swiftly could this be done?"

"I cannot say."

Not having the skill to formulate a different plan she agrees and orders an army to be raised.

It takes a month to do so. In this vision, being Cleopatra, for a month.

Finally, they're ready to march North to Alexandria. Ptolemy and Caesar are in the city itself which is surrounded by legions. They are outnumbered 10 to 3. Even Castor knows the battle is lost before it begins but it is far too late to change. Castor tries sending a messenger trying to broker peace before the battle begins. The messenger never returns but a Roman one returns with his own demand for terms of surrender. She sends him back with her demand for their surrender although it seems to prove fruitless.

The Romans see the army approach and break from the city to meet them, clashing into battle. The fight continues. Enemy cavalry comes from the south attacking their own forces and driving a wedge in the fighters. A rider in a Roman officer's uniform catches her up, "Are you Cleopatra?"

"Who asks?"

"I have orders to bring you to the city. Get on!"

Hopelessly lost and almost certain she's failed at what she was supposed to do, she gets on. They charge toward the city through the closing gap. Romans descend, 100 troops try to cut their way back into the city but can't. Getting close to the city, Castor's head hurts again but it fades almost instantly. Romans on the inside of the wall look like they are going to open the gates. But suddenly, the Romans trying to get her into the city route, running away. The officer on the horse in front of Castor shouts, "What's happening? Get back in formation!"

A soldier cries, "all is lost, Cesar is dead!" The vision ends.

Back in the cell they sit, still holding hands. The month that seemed to have passed fades into a feeling of only moments. Castor hears explosions all around, momentarily believing herself still on the field of battle.

The young woman relinquishes her hands and says, "Your friends are here."

It's evident she's weaker now. "It won't be long," she says.

"Before they come or you...?" Castor asks She doesn't answer.

"While we wait, I will answer any questions you have."

Castor nods, and hesitates a moment before asking, "Do you know anything about him?"

"Who?"

"The masked man, the one who took us."

"A woman captured me."

"Oh. But how? You're a chati. You've mastered aschar! How did she take you down?"

"I ran into an extremely powerful magic user. She put a hex on me so I couldn't use my magic. She knocked me out so fast I didn't have a chance to."

"What about the Mora vos Malus?"

"I don't know what that is."

"I'm not sure but I think the masked man is a part of them. They hunt down magic users." She shrugs.

A pang of frustration hits Castor, her hands whirl with words, "It doesn't make any sense! Why take us, not kill us? We were powerless to stop them. Why bring us here and leave us alone unrestrained and together where either could kill the other and escape? What do they want??"

"I don't know," the girl signs simply several times during her rant.

Castor sighs, "I can't even guess. Why do you speak with your hands? I heard you talk."

"So can they." She signs back. Castor feels silly for even asking.

"Where did you come from? When did you come from?"

The woman shakes her head, "that doesn't matter."

"But-"

She shakes her head again. Castor puts her face in her hands. After a few moments she asks, "You remember your aschars right? Have you gotten hurt in it?

"Yes."

"What about as if an animal clawed you? Like this?" She holds up her arm showing the healed scars.

She shakes her head, "that happened to you because of your aschar?"

"Yes? No? I don't remember. It might have been because of a trap. But you've mastered aschar. Tell me how?"

"I did as you did. Many many many times. You have to truly know yourself, have an iron will."

Castor snorts, "then I'll never be able to. Did your master teach you that? Was he a chati too?"

"My master taught me magic. I taught myself aschar."

"How did you find him?"

"He rescued me."

"Is he a Kaldien? Are they really helping chati?"

Her face hardens, "kaldien are evil. Monsters. They hunt our kind down. It's their mission to hunt all chati and kill them. They serve one called Malum. They tried to kill me as a child, my master saved me from them."

"But there are good ones right?"

"From what my master told me he was kaldien."

"Is it true that there are more of them lower in the Caelium?"

"The lower, the more powerful your magic will be."

"My magic?" She nods.

"What's at the top?"

"The sun, the moon. They say if you go up too high, you lose your mind."

They hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Castor stands, shielding the other chati with her body. Many black cloaked men descend and one opens the cell. They all rush in, grabbing Castor. She struggles and shouts at them, "let me go! Get off!" Her efforts are fruitless, there are far too many of them. The other chati simply rises and lets them bind her. She signs to Castor, "Conserve your energy."

The fight seeps out of Castor but she still shouts questions at them, demanding answers, "what do you want? Where's Marco?! What have you done with-" she's silenced with a gag. Indignant, she tries to shout through but her words are muffled hums.

The two young women are pulled upstairs into a large church with a cavernous ceiling above. The architecture and art are beautiful but hardly visible in the dark. The walls are made of light wood, stained glass sparkling in the windows. Stone floor stretches the length leading to three steps. On the raised platform lies an altar, a massive cross hanging behind. Embedded in the floor, a symbol of 3 letters: M V M.

In front of the altar, a soft glow emanates, behind three foreboding figures. The Cardinal that called Castor a bitch stands in the center. To the left, the hulking masked man, his metal chains and hammer catching the torchlight. To the right a woman, a slender, dark, shadowy figure. Her black robes trimmed with deep purple and her cloak are tattered, worn, and disgusting. Her face is also covered by a mask, it has the same white stripe as the man's but is in much poorer repair. At one time it might have been silver but now it is the burnt orange of rust. Her movements are jerky and twitching. Her right arm is thrown up toward the light and she chants in an unfamiliar tongue.

Dragged in front of Castor, the chati woman signs two words to her before a guard knocks her cold: “that's her.” The two chati are then thrown, unceremoniously onto the altar, Castor is now given a clear view of the glow behind the three infront of them.

The cardinal stands right in front of an alien sight, a jarring juxtaposition. A massive purple oval cuts the air, swirling hovering almost appearing to be a mirror. Yet inside does not reflect the gloomy, darkened room but instead, illuminates a grassy field. Amongst the grasses, tents are set up and fires blaze, men move about. Castor's blood runs cold fear gripping her heart, ''that must be a different realm! If we're taken in there, my friends will never find us!'' She remains motionless, fearing she too would be rendered senseless, she must choose her moment.

Troops are lined up on either side facing the altar. They begin running into the portal, which shimmers each time a man goes through.

Father Tobias and Ivetta meanwhile, march with the pope's army on the very place they are held. A monastery atop a massive spiraled hill. The road arcs around the hill 3 times before reaching the top. A massive shimmering barrer stops their cannon blasts and forces them to march on foot up the long and winding road. However, an army approaches from the west the Melanise, the only one who did not respond to the pope's letter telling of his imprisonment and asking for aid. They stay across the river and make no advances. Tobias has a regiment line up pointing the canons filled with grapeshot at them in case they try to ford the river. Which eventually they do. Ivetta and Tobias take a troop and head up the mountain. They are wary at first of the forcefield but it is stepped through with ease. They climb the hill without interference.

They enter the cathedral finding it strangely unmanned. A strange magical storm circles above growing ever darker. They enter the monastery but find no one guarding it. Many many doorways open into passages, some leading downstairs, underground. They spread out some but aim for the church itself.

They bust the door open and find a brick wall constructed behind it with a narrow opening. One man can enter at a time. They enter and find the halls extend much further than the building. Continuing they realise it is a maze. Smartly, father Tobias posts a man at each turn so that he may see the man behind and in front. They hear sword fighting and shots fired ahead. They rush in and see several shadowy figures about a room. They attack them. Father Tobias takes out most of them with his guns and Ivetta aids with her spear and knives. After they're all dead a door appears on a previously blank wall. Tobias rallies the men and they all burst through.

There's a crash at the other end of the hall. The doors burst open. Father Tobias, Ivetta, and a group of soldiers rush in. They spot Castor on the altar, bound and gagged. A pair of bullets whizz past, hitting the chanting woman in the head. The bullets ricochet off her shield and the portal fractures, great cracks appearing on its surface like glass, yet it still remains swirling. Tobias orders the men to form up and they shoot collectively at the three menacing figures.

Seizing the chance, Castor uses the last dregs of her magic to burn away her bindings. She launches off the dias trying to grab the other chati on her way but her fingers just miss. Her momentum won't let her stop so she continues sprinting away. The woman moves up, let's out a bloodcurldling screech, and twists her wrist in the air attacking everyone with some invisible force, yet everyone is able to dodge.

The masked man launches one of his hammers at the back of Castor's fleeing head. She thinks she feels it briefly, feels her body slacken and fall down the steps but no. Instead, from across the room, Father Tobias fires his gun. In a thousand to one shot, the bullet meets the hammer mid-air. In a flash of purple and electricity the hammer explodes, knocking the masked man back. Another bad guy is thrown into a wall and killed.

Advancing, Father Tobias says, "By the grace of God, this time, I will kill you."

The Cardinal turns tail and runs through the portal.

The sorceress lets out another blood curdling scream after watching the masked man go down. She again twists her wrist. This time the soldiers commanded by Tobias, disappear. Replaced by shadowy figures who turn on Ivetta and Father Tobias. Ivetta retaliates against the one that attacks her, jabbing and killing it with her spear. She then takes refuge in the forest of pews.

Throwing caution to the wind, Castor pivots, yanks off her gag, yells, “leave them alone!" and charges at the woman. But seeing Castor's advance she simply throws out a hand, closes the fist and twists pulling it toward herself. Reflexively, Castor's body tries to counter the magic, yet with none to draw upon, she blacks out. Her eyes roll up, her body is yanked forward, crumpling in a heap at the banshee woman’s feet.

The chati woman who they all thought was out, cries out, throwing the sorceress into the wall. Fire glows up and down her arms, her face set: determined and pissed. The portal cracks a little more. The woman gets up, moves her hand in front of her face, gracefully motioning as if in a dance. She disappears.

The young woman grabs her head, doubling over, and screams, a ripple of magic flows out into the space and the woman reappears.

Father Tobias tries to speak to the shadow men, "Men of God, soldiers of Christ, remember your faith and aid me!" Ivetta looks at him like he's gone nuts. They continue attacking, Father Tobias disarming the lead shadow man's sword causing it to fly across the room. A moment later, black goo begins melting from their features revealing they had been their allies. They stumble about, confused looks in their eyes.

The chati woman brings her hands together forming a glowing ball of flame which she throws at the sorceress. The woman catches it with ease and sends it hurtling back. She is hit with it and is launched across the room. This time, truly knocked out.

Anger growing, the woman stomps to Castor and lifts her limp body into the air with magic. Father Tobias pulls another pair of guns, walking closer as he shoots at her head. The shield around her appears now, as the bullets ricochet. Distracted again, she drops Castor to the stone floor and the portal's fractures deepen.

Ivetta moves to aid the chati woman, getting out her herbs to heal her but doesn’t get the chance to use them. In their heads echo the woman's voice, "fetch the spare." The masked man obeys, advancing toward Ivetta and the unconscious lady. Her voice echoes again, “somnum,” as she points her finger directly at Father Tobias. His knees buckle and he falls unconscious. The targeted attack took all her focus away from the portal, it disappears. The masked man picks up the young woman, slinging her over his shoulder with ease. Ivetta crawls under the pews to Father Tobias using her herbs in an effort to revive him.

A miracle, suddenly remembering himself, the un-gooed leader man (now dubbed Jimmy) says, "Remember who you are men!" He points his pistol at the woman and shoots. He misses but the other men rally. They too shoot at the two masked figures. Jimmy shouts, "charge!"

The masked man throws his hammer at him but Jimmy power slides under the attack (like a badass).

The woman tents her fingers together then spreads the fingers, tips still touching. She brings the hand gesture to her forehead. Two guards fall into the fetal position and start wailing, crying out in pain. She turns, her arms move and she chants remaking the portal. The new portal is much more narrow, room for only a single person at a time. She grabs Castor by the collar of her nightgown and begins dragging her toward it.

Ivetta moves closer to the altar beneath the pews. The masked man yeets his hammer. It punches through a pew, hitting her but the top notch armor from the pope does its job and she remains unhurt.

Half focusing on the portal the sorceress stops the last valiant effort from Captain Jimmy. She lifts him into the air and drops him. In the aftermath of the cracking and snapping of many bones, he lies still.

Unbeknownst to Ivetta, Father Tobias wakes up and readies his gun in silence.

Seeing the last line of defense fall and realizing she is the only one now who could save her friend, Ivetta digs deep. Determination fills her. Adrenaline rushes through her veins. There is no way in hell she would let them win. She surges forward, skirting the masked man's attack. She readies her spear as she runs up the steps. Finally, she vaults over the altar. She appears, for anyone left to see, for a brief moment, like the ancient sculptures of Athena. The Goddess of War, striking down her enemy. Her hair flying from beneath her helmet, muscles taught, armor gleaming, steadfast conviction chiseled in her features. She stabs down at the woman pressing the full weight of her body behind the jab. The sorceress’ grip on Castor looses, her own body falls backward into the grass, Ivetta's speartip embedded in the center of her chest. The portal closes, swallowing her up and cutting off the spear, leaving Ivetta triumphant.

A grumbling comes from the masked man as he approaches the two left in front of the altar. He swings his hammer at Ivetta's head. Her helmet takes the brunt but she falls to the floor next to Castor, pretending to be knocked out.

He drops the other chati on the altar. Believing everyone to be out for the count now, he walks over to a tabernacle and takes something out.

Father Tobias pops quietly out from behind his pew and aims for his head.

He fires the musket. The crack echoing briefly in the immense space.

It's quickly outmatched by the huge purple explosion that lights the room, metal shards fly everywhere. The man’s body slams into the floor, face down. His mask is completely destroyed revealing the harsh, pale skin of the back of his bald head.(yo he did 64 fuckin damageeee on that shot thooo)

Father Tobias gets out from behind the pew, reloading as he approaches.

Ivetta uses her herbs to awaken Castor. Her eyes snap open, darting around to see the threat. She sees Ivetta, sees her smile and relief in her face, and assumes the battle is won. She sits up and looks around wildly. She sees the other chati and says to Ivetta, "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you but please, help her." Ivetta does what she can with her herbs, successfully stabilizing her.

Tobias hears their voices and calls to them, "Ivetta, Castor? Are you two alright?" Castor peaks over the dias, "Father Tobias! What happened? Where's that woman? The portal? The masked-" she looks to where Father Tobias is aiming his gun. He shoots him in the chest.

Ivetta and Castor come out from behind the altar, "Is- is he dead? Really this time?"

"We can pray."

The three approach with caution. Castor uses Ivetta's broken spear to poke him. When he remains motionless, she uses it to flip him over. She drops it almost immediately as his head lolls and his face is revealed. It's pale, the skin cracked, damaged, and aging. His dark eyes open, fixed in their dead stare.

Castor gasps whispering, "No." Her knees fold, unable to hold her weight any longer, her heart sinking to the floor with them. Her voice cracks as she whispers, scarcely believing, "Marco…" She dissolves into sobs.

Ivetta puts her hand over her mouth in disbelief and clenches it when the full gravity of that truth hits: he was tortured and forced to become a mindless machine and hunt them down because they didn't save him. Tears threaten but do not fall, stopped by shock. She reels mentally, emotionally, and physically from the last several days' ordeal. She stands staring, on the verge of tears that refuse to fall, wishing she had the energy to strike out, release her anger.

Father Tobias simply looks sadly at the once-child he barely knew. He watches his companions fall apart in their own, private ways. Holstering his guns, he sighs. He knows this man is laid to rest here, now. But he can’t help but feel he still holds part in their futures.

TBC

Episode Twenty-Two: Sweeping Up the Ashes