[domum vulpeculae] i lost love a thousand years ago ~ etain

Remember Spyros, this is not your world. Tread carefully.

The words were like a whisper in the back of Amaranth’s mind, seeping out from a dark hole somewhere buried underneath all of her thoughts. It was a voice that had become as familiar as her own, so much to the point that there were days when she could no longer tell which mind had spoken. Their souls had reached equilibrium, like two volatile substance trying co-exist in the same vial. It was only a matter of time before she exploded, but Amaranth built contingencies in the event that this should this go wrong. Except it seemed the old sorcerer had retired into the abyss for the night after leaving her that cryptic warning.

The small, black-haired woman looked up, tilting her head back to see the top of the elegant auction house she now stood in front of. Around her, carriages were arriving, each one full of well-dress guests. The sounds of civilization and warm life rang harshly in her ears, reverberating painfully in her skull. She wanted to go back to her island. It was the first time she had stepped foot on the mainland in over a year, and already she wished to be away from all the people. She had never felt like she belonged, now even more than ever. She was just a visitor in the land of the living.

But she had a purpose. Amaranth had known about the Dark Bazaar all her life, and had even gone twice before the incident. Back then she had been blind and naïve. But even as she was, she knew the value of some of the items being traded here. Some of the most influential dark wizards would be in attendance. Herpo had warned her that there were a number of pieces being traded here tonight with value far beyond mortal understanding. She had to get her hands on them no matter what, lest they be relegated to a piece of pretty at the top of someone’s mantle when they could be used to solve the mysteries of the universe. She wouldn’t have set foot back in her old stomping grounds for anything less.

She pulled her veil tighter, as if it would really hide her face. She didn’t expect to be recognized here, since everyone believed her to be dead, but it made her acutely uncomfortable to even think about showing her bare face to the rest of the civilized world. She didn’t belong here after all. Amaranth was wrapped in a shroud of the night sky, sewn with gently glowing ivory moons and twinkling stars. Beneath the fabric, one of her familiars was coiled around her neck, the cool scales and beating of his heart a small comfort to this stranger in a now-foreign land.

Taking a deep breath for morale, Amaranth walked forward purposefully, her bare feet climbing the stairs to the front door. Two impeccably dressed young men stood at the top of the stairs, and when she flashed her auction disk, they pulled open the double doors for her. She stepped out of the brisk night air into the warmth of the auction house atrium. To her left was a small window. She passed the woman behind the window a slip of paper, and received two strings of fifty rings. Despite what she expected, the rings were extremely light, the strings flexible enough to fit in the folds of her dress. She would have traded more than a pair of soul-stealing drachma from the lair if she had known she could carry this many rings. Maybe next year.

Amaranth made her way to the other end of the atrium, and entered the gallery. It was like a maze, the auction floor one wide, convoluted hall with twists and turns into that led into curtained alcoves, rest areas, and even an open bar. The items on display were brightly lit, but the hall much dimmer, as it seemed that Miss Fox wanted to protect the client’s discretion. That was why people liked her, after all. Amaranth had even requested the the woman’s fence services back in the day when she found herself with particularly valuable items to move on the black market. There were quite a few people here, and even with one eye Amaranth could recognize some of the other patrons. Going to the Bazaar had always felt kind of like meeting legends, but that was a world away to her now.

She began to move through the crowd, hardly paying attention to who she bumped into. She was much smaller than everyone here, but she cut through them with purpose as she spotted the first item on her list. She made her way to the front of the crowd, she was only a few paces from the item under the glass case. The auctioneer at this case was telling the dozen or so people in the crowd the history of this item: a small mirror set in dented iron. According to the auctioneer, the mirror was made in the early 200 B.C.E and allowed the viewer to behold the stars up close. Amaranth stood in front of the case, the man’s voice turning garbled as if he was underwater very far away. The sight in her blue eye began to flicker like a dysfunctional muggle film, the sight of the mirror behind the case suddenly overlaying with that of a roiling ball of flame as her golden eye began to glow.

Amaranth quickly tapped the top of her shortened cypress staff to the golden disk in her hand. Around her, other people began to do the same. Amaranth watched them carefully, her sight flickering painfully as she tried to focus on who she had to beat out. It seemed that very few people were willing to pay too much for a glorified sky scope, and Amaranth ended up winning. The crowd began to dissipate around her, and Amaranth stepped forward and lowered her veil to better examine her prize. 5200 galleons for what she strongly suspected was Archimedes’ mirror was a steal.

She was so pleased with her victory that when she heard someone call her name, she turned around without thinking. She didn’t even consider who would be calling her by a name she hadn’t used in the last thirteen months. Her blue and golden eyes widened in shock, and for once the maelstrom in Amaranth’s mind went deadly silent. It was the last person Amaranth had wanted to recognize her here, after everything that had happened between them. She found herself rooted to the spot in panic, realizing frantically that was no escaping from the figure making a beeline toward her.

Oh no. Merciful Merlin, don’t do this to me.

”..and this is Minister al-Busuri’s eldest granddaughter, Mme. Pili al-Busuri.” Wide amber eyes rose from their former position of staring at the treasures around her, and a broad, guileless smile appeared on Etain’s face as she greeted the Polish crimelord as direct by her elder uncle. She giggled softly as he kissed her knuckles, and her thickly accented voice was smokey as she exclaimed how pleased she was to meet him. As he was drawn further into conversation with the businessmen around them, he kept sneaking glances at the tall young woman as she spoke gently with her companions. She stood out in her white and gold gown, modest compared to some of the other women that hung around the auction. The men hovered around her as if she was something precious, allowing few to get close to her.

When she was sure that she wasn’t being scrutinized as much, she jabbed her elbow into Taj’s side, enjoying the pained wheeze he made. She wasn’t stupid. She hadn’t been brought along as a anything more than a distraction, and another set of eyes. This wasn’t even close to an official al-Busuri sanctioned outing. This was something deeper, spearheaded by the Khopesh to retrieve some of the sacred items that needed to be laid to rest back in their tombs. Their usual methods were to steal the items back, but this auction was something that they couldn’t illusion themselves out of. They would have to use money and tactics specialized by the dark elite. Etain wanted to roll her eyes at the political showboating that they were so fond of using, but no, she was playing some innocent little thing with less brain in her head than fluff.

As she moved, her brother moved with her, silent like the night. It wasn’t often that she and Taj worked together in this capacity, but the two cursebreakers were much alike in thought processes. They liked to minimize drama and loose ends, and that was the only reason why she was glad that Aeric and Tony were out of this trek. Both of them were also too memorable too be of use. Etain both mourned and celebrated her past year of social obscurity with the birth of her son. As much as she missed her son and her husband, there was something relaxing about being able to just be in the crowd of her contemporaries. She missed work, getting down and dirty within the underworld.

Etain was about to turn back and speak softly to Taj, but something dark caught her eyes, and she froze in place. Gold eyes paled, and she had to try with all of her might to control her features, and not shout out in a combination of rage and exaltation. She knew that form, she knew that walk. She knew that face, hidden through some flimsy veil, and Etain thought she was hallucinating, but she couldn’t be. Her mind wouldn’t play tricks on her like that. Why was her cousin here, of all places? After a year of being gone, presumed dead (by people who weren’t Etain, because Etain’s hopes were so high), why would she appear at this place? Slippered feet padded quietly behind the girl, watching her as she moved. Taj took one glance at the look on Etain’s face, and paused, knowing that this was one trip that he didn’t want to follow her on.

She watched the girl bid on the sky scope, and some vengeful dark piece of her wanted to bid on it so high that the girl would be forced to look at her. Etain positioned herself so she could watch Amaranth, hungrily drinking up her features. She was changed, but she was still the same. Her little cousin…A sob hitched in her throat as the veil lowered, before she smoothed her features to an icy calmness. She needed to be calm, not bring attention to herself. A hot rage mixed with affection rushed through her, and she began to walk slowly closer to the other woman.

“Well met, Amaranth. Congratulations on your win..” Her fists tightened in her sleeves.”It is a beautiful item…”

Strange how a voice could take her back in time.

It had only been a little over a year since she had left the real world for her island of scrolls and mystery, but to Amaranth it had felt like an eternity. With each day that had passed, she was witness to an onslaught of information, thousands of memories of a young world growing into adulthood seen through the eyes of the hundred slithering snakes. And though she remembered little and understood none of it, Amaranth could feel her mind moving with that passage of time. Though it had only been thirteen months, it felt like accelerated centuries had passed since Amaranth had last seen a familiar face. Surely they would all have turned to dust and ash by now?

She hadn't prepared for it.

But there Etain was in front of her, so crisp and clear that Amaranth was almost sure the other woman was an illusion. Amaranth felt her heart drop into her stomach, the air escaping her scaled lips in a harsh whisper. Though she had been around her cousin for a long time, she hadn’t been able to watch Etain grow into her destiny. It had been almost seven years since Amaranth had lost her eyesight, but she knew that Etain had always been pretty, that much Amaranth was sure of. Even in school, the besotted boys and jealous girls alike would gossip of her cousin’s unique beauty and exotic allure. And Amaranth, the small and bug-eyed freak with quickly deteriorating sanity, could only stand in awe. But this woman wasn’t merely pretty, she was breathtaking. Even without her eyesight, Amaranth should have been able to see it.

Amaranth and Etain. Cousins. Friends. Her only friend. It had been a long time.

The two of them had their own destinies to follow, and before long they were walking down different roads. But for a short time, for the span of a year, Amaranth was able to walk alongside her cousin. They both worked in the darkness, though Amaranth had been the creeping ghoul to Etain’s elegant shadow. Etain fell in love and built a family for herself while Amaranth could only fall deeper and deeper into her own darkness. It would be a lie to say she was never envious of her cousin, but Etain had always worked hard for everything she got, and Amaranth would never begrudge her what she had rightfully earned. It felt surreal to be standing in this darkened hall, while the rest of the world dulled to a dim flicker as if they were the only two beings in space.

She could see the tension in Etain’s stance, and Amaranth expected nothing less. The previous Amaranth would have run from this conflict, from the embodiment of everything she could never attain no matter how desperately she climbed, but this Amaranth found herself rooted to the spot by a different emotion. She could feel Herpo stirring with interest, and suddenly her golden eye began to see more than just the woman. Amaranth could see the two paths Etain walked, both mired in blood and duty, converging within her in an aura that glowed like a blood-red sun. And on the other end stood Amaranth, unnamed darkness wrapping protectively around her cold scaled skin like the shroud of night she wore.

The air between them crackled with something electric and ancient. They were two forces, both at least as equally powerful and indomitable as the other. How would it end between them? They couldn’t pick up where they had left off, that was impossible. Perhaps it would be a battle that plunged the world into apocalypse? No, that was melodramatic. But quite possible. Except Amaranth wasn’t looking for a fight. She wasn’t sure what to think, but all she knew that the world she had hoped to leave behind had found her once more. It was time to face that.

“It is truly unbelievable to be able to see you again. After so long.” Amaranth said with a quiet smile. She let her veil fall away from her face, revealing her dull golden eye and the trail of dark olive scales blighting the pale pearl skin of cheek and neck. She raised her hand and absently wiped a rogue tear from her blue eye as she returned her cousin's gaze. “It’s been a lifetime, hasn't it?"