RP:God Was Never On Your Side
Part of the Through The Looking-Glass: Return To Wonderland Arc
Summary: Khitti and Brand make their trek into the Shadow Plane to find out what the frak is going on. As per usual, it's worse than they thought.
The Tranquility, Cenril
Khitti was busy stuffing things into that backpack that the first Dominic used once upon a time. She’d kept it, much like with any other possession that was his--truly his--that Brand hadn’t wanted or had no need for. It had joined her mother’s hat in the wardrobe, and would’ve joined Lydia’s violin and that fire ruby ring of her dad’s if she’d not given away the latter (and eventually had it repurposed into wedding bands) and consistently used the former. Now the pack had a need again and in it were those masks Alvina had made and Rachelle had enchanted, a few large flasks of water, and some various baked goods that would last several days and didn’t need to be stuck in an icebox. There probably wouldn’t be a need for all of this, beyond the masks, but it -was- the Shadow Plane, and this time Khitti and Brand were going alone. She’d been there once in the almost 2 years since their first couple visits, but that lasted no more than ten to fifteen minutes, as it was to save Raevyn from certain doom and herself.
Khitti || Dominic’s pack would be added to Brand’s Tikifhlee’s saddlebags, where a bit more food, water, and anything else he might’ve needed was stored. And in her own? Khitti put every weapon she owned in her own cat’s bags. The swords, the bow and quiver; she even threw the violin in there just in case. The idea for all of this packing was what if they’d gotten stuck there? Khitti had that new ability to literally unlock another doorway when she needed it, but… just how bad were things over there? The redhead tried to not think about it. Literally willed herself to think about anything other than getting stuck there. So, she went over that list in her head, the one she’d been reminding herself of for the past two years: Lydia, Onyx, Amarrah, Facilier, Lanara, the people from her village, Larewen, Pilar. There was more, of course. Some of them were people she cast off for various reasons, some of them were people she had a hand in killing, but all of them were people she couldn’t help--even the ones that weren’t dead might as well have been. The realization that the entirety of the Shadow Plane could be added to the list if she didn’t do this struck Khitti like one of her own right hooks as she found Brand elsewhere on the ship, “It’s done. Everything’s packed.” There wasn’t any excitement found on her features and her lips pressed into a grim line. “Are you ready?” She’d put the current Dominic down for a nap before she’d started packing and she’d not had the heart to say goodbye to him, just in case. If she looked at him again right now, he’d be going with them, regardless of the danger.
Brand forgot just how much he actually -did- around the ship until he had to delegate everything out for a long-term departure. Dozla was capable of handling most of the day-to-day operations, but then there was the need to prepare contracts in advance, plot courses out ahead for the next month, make sure everything would be well-stocked… Would they be alright without him? Brand had faith in his crew, sure, but there was a difference between leaving them alone for a few days and leaving them alone for… well… he tried not to think about it. He’d just hope they’d come back sooner rather than later, and later rather than not at all. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” was his answer to Khitti, as he patted down his pockets one last time. If he’d forgotten anything, it was too late now.
Khitti led the way back to where the Tikifhlee were kept, their saddlebags now equipped and the cats eager to go home--their other home anyway. She retrieved her katana, unsheathed it, and took a deep breath. What was that little mantra one of the students at the Devout’s Guild’s headquarters was saying the other day while they were training? Oh right. Eye of the tiger, Khitti. Eye of the tiger. Or Tikifhlee. Eye of the Tikifhlee. When she felt like she was the same as Brand--as ready as she’ll ever be, that is--the sword’s end was thrust into the air, Khitti looking something akin to fencer with the wrong weapon. It stuck there, the katana hovering mid-air as Khitti released her grip on it, another moment of hesitation overtaking her. She got annoyed with herself then, muttered a few curses and turned the weapon like it was a key. Like some sort of… keyblade. Holy fire and lightning crackled around Tenbatsu Kaji, creating a long line of the same holy magic vertically, only to be parted down it’s middle and a door wide enough to fit the cats through opened up entirely. Khitti looked at Brand briefly, frowned, shrugged, then sighed and went through. It was time to tumble down the rabbit hole again.
The Moor Of Mourning, The Shadow Plane
Khitti || On the other side was supposed to have been another port village, much like Chartsend’s mirror, with the same type of small feline creatures that’d helped them before. The dismal sounding Moor of Mourning was certainly there, but it’s not at all what they’d expect--it was on fire. It burned like Khitti and Brand’s shared dream of Cenril almost two years ago, the one Brand still had even while Khitti was dead. It was either some sick joke or purely coincidence, but that didn’t matter right then. What did matter is that they were now standing on a half destroyed pier, the wood creaking beneath their feet and likely to buckle eventually with all the weight that was on it. And then there was another little problem--the merrow. The undead merfolk weren’t sure where these delicious creatures came from, but it’d felt like an age since they tasted the flesh of the living. They’d begged Delisha for a meal and a meal had been dropped right into their scaley, decaying laps. They praised the Goddess of Pleasure as they lunged at the humans and their mounts. This all happened within a matter of moments. Khitti hadn’t even had time to think to herself that this trip to Wonderland would be a lot worse than that little girl’s.
Brand || Into the fire, or into a merrow’s frying pan? Sorry, fishies -- Brand’s gonna pick the fire every time. He’d spur his Tikifhlee into motion, leaping over the heads of merfolk and down the pier to shore. Once, the pier collapsed right underfoot, but the Tikifhlee was able to clamber back onto sturdier wood with the aid of a few thrusts from its powerful legs. All those days of taking the cats for a walk were paying off, Brand supposed. He’d have to remember this for next time he was feeling too lazy to take them to get their exercise. Once he made it to land, he summoned a barrier of water to guard against the flame, giving him and Khitti a safe, if confined, place to stand while they contemplated their next move. “Gotta admit,” he called to her, “I wasn’t quite expectin’ to be thrown into action quite so immediately.” It would’ve been nice to be able to see where they were going to end up before they got there… make the portal function more like a window. Oh well -- the magic to bring them here seemed complicated enough already.
Khitti || It really was that complicated, Brand, and she’d only had one other time to try it out! Well, perhaps if they made it back from this little scouting mission, she’d practice it a bit more. You know, for next time. It took his woman a second to realize that Brand was running. Brand was running and that usually meant she should run too. But, she couldn’t right then. Because the instant the Catalian had stirred his Tikifhlee into fleeing, her own picked Khitti up in its mouth and leapt after its mate, “What the heeeellllll!” Along the way, her face was almost ripped off by a merrow because she couldn’t defend herself while half her body was in the cat’s mouth. But, the day was saved thanks to the Powerpuf--er, the Brand. The very manly Brand with the fire magic. And now the water magic. The poor Khat was spat out by her mount and hit the ground near Brand’s feet. “Ugh. Did you expect this to be easy? After what those orbs showed us?” She smirked at him as she peeled herself up off the ground and climbed aboard the S.S.Tikifhlee, “We need to go to their version of Larket. That’s the last place I saw Emeritus.”
The White Woods, The Shadow Plane
Khitti dug out the masks from the saddlebags and tossed one to Brand. She didn’t put hers on just yet, waiting to get to the edge of the forest. Her cat would lead the way, avoiding as much of the fire as they could as they headed to where the Moor ended and the White Woods began. They’d get over halfway through the city before the fires were behind them. On the north side of the Moor, however, was something worse. In various stages of decay, thick black vines that pulsed like veins covered all. Some were thicker than others, and the ones that were had cracked open here and there, spewing out a weird blue liquid that pooled and waterfalled in places. Khitti’s Tikifhlee hissed as it nearly stepped in the ooze, doing its best to dart around the taint that covered this part of the port town. They’d finally find their way to the White Woods… but that name wasn’t exactly accurate anymore. The trees that once stood tall like a forest of sun-bleached bones were now blackened as well, that same blue liquid pouring from cracks in the bark. There was no need for the masks it seemed. There were no spores, no life, nothing. No spiders, no Tikifhlee, no White Walkers. They were long since dead and their corpses used to fuel the contagion. Khitti’s Tikifhlee was hesitant, but headed into the forest at Khitti’s insistence, leading them to the Lake of Echoed Screams, Larket’s mirror.
Brand || This was the kind of place that brought the phrase “silent as the dead” to mind. Brand wasn’t easily spooked, but this just might do it. “So, uh, silver lining -- none of those Walker things around makes this a whole lot easier.” Something, anything to break the silence. Regardless of whether or not Khitti replied, he’d soon voice another thought. “How long do you think it took for things to get this bad?”
Khitti || “Probably about as long as it took for Kahran and Facilier to become best friends.” Which was, to say, not very long at all. The more she thought about it, the more pissed off she got. The more pissed off Khitti got, the faster she urged her Tikifhlee to go. There might be a lot of bad in the Shadow Plane, but there was some good too, like the Darkfel. The tiny felines had aided them without question--the rune magic they used on Brand’s ship was still something they depended on, albeit for different reasons now. Regardless, the darkfel hadn’t deserved any of this. First Kahran on the Chartsend side, and now this corruption. Brand would have to do his damnedest to keep up with his woman, but it wouldn’t last too long.
The Lake Of Echoed Screams, The Shadow Plane
Khitti || They’d soon reach Larket’s mirror, The Lake of Echoed Screams, but when they got there, it was nothing like their first trip two years ago or when Khitti briefly set foot there to rescue Raevyn. The corruption seemed to stem from the lake itself, those same pulsing vines reaching out from the murky depths that the Shadowseers used to gather their prophecies from.
Khitti || “We were wondering when you’d show up.” The feminine voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, like a whisper in the back of one’s mind. “You shouldn’t keep your hosts waiting. It’s very rude of you.” Khitti’s tikifhlee skidded to a halt, the redhead barely waiting for it to stop before she hopped off the cat. “I’m not sure what gave you the idea that I’m not rude. It’s certainly not something written in those prophecies,” Khitti shouted to the void--or rather, just the air around them. “Where the hell are you?!” Khitti would get her answer in the form of a scream from the left side of the lake, the sound clear at first, but soon replaced by odd gurgling. Both of her swords were grabbed quickly from the saddlebag they were packed away in and then Khitti was off. Sorry, Brand. You had to know this was coming.
Brand || They crested the lip of a hill and came into view of the lake. Brand’s Tikifhlee slid to an abrupt stop, and it was only through some feat of dexterity that he managed to not lose his seat. The big cat crouched with ears flattened, hissing at some unknown -thing- deep down in the murk. It was then that he heard a voice just behind him, both sinister and crooning. No, was it ahead of him? Above him! No, below. Inside and through him, worming around his spine and squeezing until he thought he might burst in a flurry of a thousand colors. The voice pulled away and he shuddered from the loss of it, though even then he couldn’t quite be sure what it had said. Maybe if he could hear it just one more time...
Brand || Brand dismounted and went to follow it. And it led him down and down and down, until the sun was nothing but a murky speck somewhere half-remembered beyond the layers of filth, and … when had he stopped breathing? No, when had he stopped -needing- to breathe? The thought tightened his throat, and it was only as he was passing out that he remembered the sting of lakewater in his eyes.
Khitti heard the sound of water splashing, but disregarded it entirely. It must’ve been more of those vines. She almost passed the spot where the scream originated from. It hadn’t taken any time at all for those weird pulsing vines to crawl their way through Vylyra’s torso, from somewhere near her spine. They clawed through her insides, spreading as vines do, until it eventually emerged from her mouth, nose, and ears--that was the source of the gurgling it seemed. “What the frakking hell are you doing here?!” Well, Khitti wasn’t going to get an answer, of course, because Vylyra was as dead as a doornail. She was actually disappointed that the stupid bitch -was- dead! That was supposed to be Khitti’s job. Sigh. She was about to go and voice this to Brand except Brand was ???. “Brand?” Uhhhh. Okay. “BRAND?!” Mmmm yep, time to panic. “You talk too loudly. You need only whisper; the trees hear everything. -We- hear everything.”
Khitti wasn’t exactly the type to listen to people when they were telling her what to do (sorry, Brand). And she certainly wasn’t going to start now. Khitti continued to call Brand’s name until… duh… What the hell had been that water sound? A fish maybe? Hopefully. Oh god it’s so not a fish, who the hell is Khitti trying to fool? “Brand?!” She was just about to dive into the lake, but alas she would not make it. Instead, chains made of dark magic popped up out of the ground, shackling themselves to Khitti’s arms. They pulled her down to the ground, forcing her to sit and stare at the lake. “What did I tell you about screaming?” A purple-haired woman stepped from the shadows, much like Khitti used to, coming to a stop next to the redhead. Poor Khitti was about to start yelling again, slinging curses as she’s wont to do, but the strange woman tapped Khitti’s forehead, a minor hex to shut Khitti up placed on her.
Khitti || Those same vines from the forest snaked up and around the woman’s body, her skin the same tint as the blue corruption. She wore nothing but the vines, all of them strategically placed to keep things hidden--what use did a dryad have with clothes anyway? “You know, you’re prettier when you don’t speak,” she said in that unaffected tone. “Has anyone told you that?” It only served to piss Khitti off more. She struggled to free herself of the chains, but the dark magic that held her to the ground was much stronger than her own holy magic.
Brand awoke to an unnatural light in his eyes. It shone down from somewhere just above him, possessing at once both the wrath of the summer sun and the eerie chill of winter’s moon. He blinked and cast his eyes downward; the brightness obscured all but the nearest edge of the table he found himself sitting at. It was grey and muddied as old snow, and inscribed on its rim were symbols in some language Brand did not recognize.
Brand || “Who… are you? What… do you want?” came the voice, reverberating in the darkness. Brand recovered his wits enough to note the echo of words against stone. He was in some kind of chamber, perhaps underground, and somewhere in the distance there was a steady drip of water. Good, that meant he could -- “Who are you?” asked the voice again, growing louder and more insistent. “What do you want? What have you to do with She Who Walks Both Paths?”
Brand || “Would help if I knew what the frak you were talkin’ ‘bout,” Brand muttered. He was practiced enough at concealing panic, but someone like Khitti would have surely noticed the edge in his voice. “Can’t say I know anyone by that name. I think you have the wrong guy.” Sorry to disappoint, creepy-disembodied-voice-that-has-somehow-tied-me-to-a-chair.
Khitti wished she could hear Brand right now. She wished she could see him. She wished she wasn’t tied down to the ground and made to watch what she assumed was her soon-to-be husband’s death. ‘Soon-to-be’ but now it was probably never to be. Still Khitti struggled as tears made themselves known. She opened her mouth, trying to call out to him--wherever the hell he was--but nothing came out. “Look, honey. Men just get in the way. They love you, leave you, and let you rot. But not us. We’re stronger than that.” The human-dryad hybrid smirked down at Khitti, “Well… I am. Not you, clearly, or you wouldn’t even be in this mess.” She took a few steps over until she was directly in front of the redhead, blocking Khitti’s attempts to search the lake for any sign of Brand, alive or otherwise. “Look at you. Not even Cyris gave you enough power to fight off this magic. It’s pathetic.” The woman brought a hand to her face to cover her mouth as she cackled, arrogance dripping from her words and laughter. “Even -he- knows you’re not worthy.” Cue more cackling. “Your god was never on your side, little Harbinger.”
Khitti || Whether by the dryad’s own will or because the hex’s time was up, Khitti’s voiced eventually return. “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to--” Please insert here all the many promises that Khitti hoped she could keep whenever the hell she got free. None of them were savory. All of them painful. You’d think -she- was the werewolf and not Meri, with as much as she seemed like a rabid doggo right now. With a flick of the dryad’s wrist, one of the vines on her arm curled away from her body and whipped Khitti in the face. “I’m going to let you go soon, but not yet. For now, I want you to sit there and think about the danger you’re in.” The vine snapped at Khitti again, as if to prove the dryad’s point.
Brand could hear sounds of fighting in the distance, and the light overhead flickered and sparked. It wasn’t long before the screams of dying soldiers gave way to the steady clomping of boots. Someone was coming this way. Brand couldn’t see who; the light had gone out. And then round the corner came a holy shimmering, and behind it none other than Khitti. She put a hand on one hip and smirked at him. “Vell, you aren’t who I was expecting to see. Zhere was someone I came here to rescue, but…”
Brand || “Khitti!” The accent seemed -wrong- somehow, but Brand was too relieved to pay it much mind. “Stop messin’ around and get me untied, would you?” But instead, Khitti put a finger to her chin. “How do I know you’re who I zhink you are, and not some kind of trick?”
Brand || Oh, come the frak on. Fine, Brand would play along, if he must. “Uh, hello? It’s Brand -- y’know, the father of our child? Captain of the Tranquility? Saved your life a couple dozen times?” At that, Khitti bounded forward, her grin just a bit broader than seemed natural. “Oh, vunderbar. Zhis will do nicely.” And then her hand shot forward, and his senses failed him once again.
Khitti spat out blood once it welled up on her mouth, the dryad having served up a bit more whipping for her, the blue-skinned woman having no reserve as to where she hit Khitti. “Hm. You’ve stopped making noise… now I kinda miss the sound.” The corruption’s vines that stemmed from within the lake crept out and crossed the short distance between the water and where Khitti was chained. They coiled around Khitti like a snake, squeezing her until she couldn’t help but scream. “Oh, much better.” It hadn’t taken long for her to get bored again though, so she finally released Khitti, just like that. “I think it’s time to go find your friend, don’t you?”
Khitti || There wasn’t any time to talk now that the dark magic chains faded into nothingness and the vines went limp. The dryad was entirely disregarded--as was Khitti’s own safety--as she dove into the lake to find Brand. If he wasn’t even alive, she’d do what was necessary to bring him back--this wasn’t going to end up like the other world that Onyx was from. A tiny spark of holy light was conjured up once she was submerged… but this only proved to make things worse. Beneath the murky surface and amongst the writhing vines were hundreds of corpses, some months old, others only days. Caught off guard, Khitti screamed, using up all her air. She’d resurface, take in a bit more air, and then went back underneath. There was nothing but the dead, bloated and corrupted. There was no sign of Brand, not even a body.... and now Khitti was starting to wonder if the splashing sounds she’d heard were even real. “Once the Shadow Plane falls… we will come for you and your realm,” the shadowy whispers making themselves known again. It was clear who the culprit was this time around: the dryad.
Khitti || Surfacing once more, Khitti trudged her way out of the muck, “Where is he? And who the hell are you?” She stopped a foot away from the dryad, eyeing her. “Oh… I’m not sure… but my partner might know. And me? The name’s Jessamine.”
Brand || Where was Brand? Right behind the dryad, as it turned out. Flames consumed her all too easily as Brand rushed to Khitti’s rescue. It was only a moment before he was pulling her along, running back for the way they’d come -- and the waiting Tikifhlee. “Frak the Shadow Plane,” was his only explanation. “We need to get outta here.”
Khitti was suddenly! being pulled along by a Brand towards their cats. She fought him off a little at first, if only to snatch up her weapons before they left. She hadn’t the heart to do much more though. If that wasn’t the real Brand, she was probably going to die a horrible death. It wouldn’t be anything new though, right? Maybe-real-Brand was right though, they needed to get out of here and that they did. Khitti wasn’t even going to bother getting back to the Moor of Mourning. Instead, they’d take their chances in Larket, a portal created again to get them home--for once, Larket actually seemed preferable to everything that was going on in the Shadow Plane right now.