Shattered

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Written by Samiyah
The late afternoon sun streamed through the open door of the temple. Though night was hours away, Samiyah had spent much of the day traveling from place to place, gathering needed items for members of the Order. Her magical energy was depleted to nearly nothing. She lay curled up on the comfortingly soft pile of a goatskin rug, her head pillowed on one arm. As always, the fire’s warmth was not quite enough to drive away the chill of the Hall, though the spicy scent of the desert palm wood as it burned was a small comfort. She could sense, like the rumblings of a distant thunderstorm, that Seraph was angry about something, but could not discern what it might be. Drowsy and half-asleep, she was mentally composing a story requested of her by the Eldest when she felt a nauseating pain strike her core. Curling into fetal position in instinctive reaction, she immediately forced herself to rise to her feet. She looked first within - her bond with Wind was intact, the vampire peacefully slumbering - then looked without for whatever enemy might have caused the agony. A glance in his direction revealed that her Father was looking equally pained. He sat upright upon his macabre throne of bones, his aura filling the room with a dark light.

"What is it?" she asked, bewildered, shaking her head to clear it of the excruciating fog. Deliberately, she shifted to a defensive posture that put her ready to engage whatever might try to breach the temple, the open doorway kept in sight. The only scent the light breeze carried into the Hall was the pungency of rancid piss, an editorial comment left by the Hound of the Hunt that morning as he lay in wait for one of the Order.

Seraph replied, teeth clenched in anger, his voice a demonic growl, "They have tampered with Similus, daughter..."

Samiyah blinked, her mind recalling the Demigod Wish's words to her: "It has been YOU who has empowered the Similus. And, by empowering the Similus, it has Changed you...it continues to Change you. And you have Changed it...and it continues to Change due to your empowerment."

"Who has changed it? Who would have that power?"

"One of your 'friends' from The Wyld Hunt," he snarled in return. The lines on his brow showed the glare his missing eyes could no longer express. "Probably with the help of that bitch, Cordir."

Samiyah blushed, knowing how her longstanding fondness for some of those of crimson aura had always enraged him - even though in this particular case, the Hound no longer allowed her friendship. She shifted the subject, hoping to deflect his ire. Moving away from the door, she approached his throne, her posture showing a confidence she did not truly feel.

"Wish said that I was changed because of it, and it, because of me.. is that why we both felt.. whatever that was?" She phrased her words with caution, wary of his temper.

The answer was still in that low snarl that made goose bumps cover her skin and the tiny black hairs on the back of her neck rise: "Yes."

She half-knelt before his throne, resting on one knee, ready to rise should a physical threat manifest. She felt the weight of his rage within her, twinned with the horrific, empty ache the fading pain had left behind. Ever one for questions and frustrated by his overly brief answers, she had to ask: "What was done? Did you sense something was going to happen? Is that why you were angry?" She kept her voice pitched low and calm.

Seraph rose from his throne abruptly, sending the massive thing sliding back loudly over the stone floor with the violence of his movement. His sable wings flexed outward in irritation, nearly spanning half the width of the Hall, and then snapped inward, settling closely around his body like dark armor. The comforting scent of them washed over her as they moved, the feathers still bearing the sand and spice of the desert from his flight there earlier in the day. His head turned towards her. He was silent a moment. His words, when they came, were angry still - though she could not tell if it was directed at her or not.

"You are me and I am you. You would already know the answer to your questions if you looked inside for something OTHER than that damned bond..."

He turned towards the shadows that filled the corners of the Hall and commanded: "Turyal. To me."

The angel that was Seraph's right hand among his Host materialized soundlessly, gracefully bowing and kneeling next to Samiyah. "Yes, Fallen One?"

"Watch over my angels. I must go to the Plane of Souls and retrieve what has been fractured..." Seraph's head turned slightly, as if to glance at his daughter. " ... again."

The burden of Seraph's constant disappointment in her made her speak impulsively: "Father.. can I go in your stead? Your angels need you .. and I.." She fumbled with the words and then settled on the raw, awkward, stammered truth. "I would like .. I mean.. I want to do something that you would... would maybe be … proud of."

His rigid demeanor softened a fraction. Seraph crossed the distance in two steps, heavy boots echoing loudly on the stone floor. One calloused hand under her chin guided her to rise to her feet. He maintained his hold on her face, fingers biting into her skin. Her deity stared into the very heart of her, his empty, blackened sockets seeing more clearly than any eyes ever could.

"If you perish on the Plane of Souls, I cannot bring you back, Samiyah. You need to realize that."

She shrugged in false bravado. "I am learning I am stronger than I think. I'll be okay. Just tell me what to do, Father."

He released her and concentrated intently for a long moment. Coalescing in his hands, a bit of blackness, a light-that-was-not-light, appeared.

"When you held Similus and it shattered you... when you changed it, and it changed you... it created a connection to your soul. That is why you have craved its presence ever since. What you are bonded to.. I am bonded to. Yet ANOTHER reason I did not want you bonding with that vampire..." His last words were a growling reminder of an old argument between them. "It took my spirit to mend yours. We are connected - you, I, and Similus. They have torn away the part of Similus that made him Mine... but we are still connected to that part, as much as to the whole. It is broken into pieces, scattered across the Realm of Souls. This is one of them."

Here, he lifted the hand that held the not-light. "You will have to collect them all. Take them inside yourself and bring them back to me. Know that it will hurt - though not as badly as the first time you held Similus to learn of me."

Samiyah steeled herself and reached out, taking took the darkness from her Father's hands. Her thoughts flashed back a time a few weeks prior, when he told her to draw flame from the fireplace. She had learned then that as His daughter, the fire was hers to command, and caused her no pain. This splinter of Similus' soul was not so kind: The rage and anger and death within it brought her to her knees. It manifested as a bitter taste in her mouth, like ashes and blood and a dull ache throughout her body, every joint becoming a fiery pulse of agony. Similus was a sentient thing and it was not happy with what had been done. Even this tiny shard of it was seething with hate. A trickle of blood worked its way down her face, blinked out of eyes gone momentarily blind with pain, mirroring a bright spark of crimson that flowered in her blue aura.

"You are stronger than a phoenix," she reminded herself. She used the phrase as a mantra to force herself to hold onto consciousness and rise to her feet once more. Samiyah felt battered and bruised in spirit, far more so than the battle with the legendary bird had torn her flesh.

Seraph nodded approvingly. "There are twelve more pieces. You must find them all, without fail. Once you have them all, I can take them from you. The shard you have taken will help lead you to the others."

She nodded her understanding, not entirely steady on her feet. Ephemeral shapes floated in her vision, ghostly echoes of a combat the weapon been wielded in, the taste of bile in her mouth.

"Are you ready?"

She swallowed hard, nodding once more, her chocolate brown eyes briefly closing for a moment. She focused on the one who held her heart: calling to mind the ancient essence of him – a night wind illuminated by a silvery moon, flowing through the green, leafy tops of the Great Tree of Loth-Llorien. Holding his image in her mind, she sent a wave of emotion through her blood bond: reassurance, tenderness, and what she hoped was not a good-bye, but only a farewell. She felt him stir in his sleep. He would sense it in his dreams, awakening to it in clarity upon the setting of the sun.

Seraph scowled, feeling the rush of emotion as clearly as the vampire would. His hands glowed with a brilliant azure light and easily as he could cut the thread of a marionette, he pulled Samiyah’s soul from her body. Turyal caught her as she collapsed, easing the bard's limp shell down onto the goat skin rug by the fire. Kindly, he wiped the blood from her face with the cuff of his samite garment and composed her limbs modestly.

Seraph cupped the ball of light in his hands, leaning down to kiss it lightly in blessing. His voice softened to a gentle tone rarely heard: "Go, my daughter. Come back to me safely."

Closing his hands, the light briefly pulsing between his fingers, he sent it to that place that all spirits find in death. The scent of lightning flooded the air of the temple as it vanished.

"Turyal... I need you to take her body with you and keep it safe. Here, it is too vulnerable to mischief. "

Turyal glanced up at his Liege in surprise and then obediently scooped the girl's still form. He cradled her against his chest and wrapped his pure white wings protectively around her. "And if her spirit does not return in time? What will become of it?"

Seraph replied, his cold tone matter of fact. "She will die."