Cassandra Pendragon

Nearly 5 years later

My stomach ached, sweat dripped into my eyes and I was pretty sure I could smell the tips of my hair burning. Wheezing I laid on the ground, huffing for air after that last burning discus had missed me by no more than an inch. It hadn’t  missed my hair though. The lower third of my black plate was smouldering. Huh, how I loved the smell of burnt hair in the morning.

For a blind woman Greta’s aim was astonishingly good. It was still fairly decent for a person with eyesight and that was more than enough to put a 7-year old through her paces. We were currently in her cave, the place Greta had picked to torture … train me 5 times a week. As usual, I spent most of the time running away from or dodging one thing or another. My “teacher” had realised pretty fast that most forms of energy wouldn’t touch me, so instead of hurling fireballs, she threw stuff. Heavy, burning stuff. I had to question her methods, but the results were amazing. From a chubby toddler I had developed into a sleek, tall and lithe child. I still retained my large baby-eyes but all in all I had grown up quite a lot. With my face hidden, I might even be taken for a quite short teenage kitsune. And I had learned to move. The hard way. I was pretty sure most ballerinas didn’t possess the amount of control over their bodies that I had gained while dodging stones, hammers, discuses and, on bad days, even arrows. All in the name of strengthening my body to prepare it for my spiritual training. Which hadn’t even begun yet! The only times Greta would actually talk to me were, when I collapsed under her gentle guidance. After nearly getting decapitated by a burning discuss for example.

“You held out longer than I expected, princess. Your body is nearly strong enough. Do you remember why this part of your development is so important?”

“Because everything, body, astral body, life force, soul and in my case the core are connected. If one is weak the others won’t grow. Because the body is the foundation through witch every form of energy flows, I have to prepare mine for the energies from my core, otherwise I’m going to break down again as soon as i try to channel my power.” I finally managed to stop panting and prob myself up on my elbows.

“Well said. Usually you would have advanced to energy manipulation and the strengthening of the astral body already. Unfortunately your whole being is flooded with transcendent energies and they would taint any exercise or spell you attempted, even if you used only mundane energies to work with. You won’t be able to use magic until your body has fully matured. Unless you risk to lose control and burn out. And then my whole work over the last 5 years would go down the drain.”

I already knew that, Greta had repeated the same sermon over and over again while I recuperated from her “light exercises”, necessary to prepare my body for the influx of transcendent energies, which was sure to come. That didn’t stop her from continuing though. While listening half-heartedly I wondered for the thousandth time where she had gotten her information from. She had been able to determine what I was within weeks of becoming my mentor. One day I had descended into her cave, Ahri in tow, and she had started talking about angels, transcendent energies and how I was lucky that my core had bound to a kitsune.

Supposedly my tails were a perfect indicator of how far I had come in forming a functioning symbiosis of my being and my transcendent heritage. If I managed to reach nine tails, it would be safe to embrace my core fully and utilise my powers.  I had been born with two, because I had already known who I was, I had simply lacked the brain-function to form coherent thoughts. That changed when I had turned two. As soon as my brain had been able to “think” parts of my identity had come rushing back, bringing along some memories I could access if prompted with the right stimulus. It wasn’t like I had a fully formed personality yet, my soul was still developing after all, but there were some things I couldn’t change.

As I had learned over the past five years, I detested injustice, especially if someone abused their power, I was hot-blooded and compassionate, to a degree that bordered on naivety. I had caused quite the ruckus some two years ago when, during a court session I had been forced to attend due to my formal education, I had tried to impale a petitioner with a ceremonial sabre. That asshole had tried to use his connections to weasel out of an engagement, the poor girl, pale and pregnant, standing to the side, shivering at the prospect of becoming a single mum in a medieval society. And my father had intended to let it slide. I had understood the reason, the bastard had been a wealthy merchant who had brought in a ton of taxes. He had technically still been the citizen of another kingdom, along with the girl, even though they had settled near our dwarven mine for good. It hadn’t been worth it to anger a potentially influential family for the sake of one foreign girl. I had understood. But when my father had stood to accept the formal annulment, the girl, Eva, had looked up with tears of fear and desperation running down her cheeks. Our eyes had met.

What would you have done? I had chosen the most ridiculous course of action possible. Instead of talking to my dad privately or maybe even critiquing the decision publicly I had grabbed the ceremonial sword stuck to his side and, full of fiery retribution, made a swing for the protruding belly of the merchant. Well, I had still been a 5 year old girl, albeit an infuriated one, I had lost my balance, that sabre had been heavy, and had tumbled down the stairs and into my intended victim.

Luckily no one had been hurt and I had managed to convince my mum to hire Eva and provide a place for her and her soon to be born child. All I had had to do was formally apologise to the esteemed merchant…

Oh, I was also in love, at least I thought so. My third tale had sprouted after remembering her, after all. It wasn’t the hormonal fling kind of thing - I was 7 - nor did everything remind me of her. I only had that one memory of her but whatever I did, azure eyes and fiery wings would flutter through my mind sooner or later, making my heart beat faster and sparking a single name my thoughts would turn to: Aurora. Like right now…

“… you have to strengthen your body through normal exercise. You can’t be sure, when your next epiphany will strike, so you have to be prepared. From what I gathered, the fourth tail indicates that your soul and life force have matured enough to sustain your wings. If your body isn’t equally resilient though, you will wither away under the strain.” That was new. I probably should have listened more closely.

“Could you please repeat the last part, I was…distracted?” She gave me a slick smile as if she knew exactly what or rather whom I had been thinking about.

“With us mere mortals”, I guessed her sarcasm was my punishment for making her repeat herself, “there is a difference, whether we use mundane energy - mana -, life force or soul energy. Our abilities to control each respective form are distinct from one another and can be trained separately. For you, that isn’t the case. All the energy within you is transcendent and even reservoirs of different forms you use become tainted by it. Your astral body, life force and soul are closely intertwined with your core and it continuously pumps threats of transcendent force into them. Every action you take that is not solely powered by your biology will channel transcendent force through your body. You still remember how that felt, don’t you?” She grabbed her trusty staff, a long branch of Boseiju that was used to hammer her points into her students, well student. “Or do you need me to give you a little reminder of that headache?” I desperately shook my head. I was pretty confident, that she wouldn’t actually hit me without a reason, but I wasn’t sure. “No need, besides the pain I’m sure I won’t forget the Furglows’ remains anytime soon.” That had been the right thing to say. Greta relaxed visibly.

“Well then, even if your soul is mature enough, and it wasn’t the last time, your body still has to withstand the pressure. So chop chop, off you pop, if you want to fly you’ll first have to learn how to run. We still have another hour until you need to be back at the palace.”

Grumbling I got back to my feet while Greta prepared another round of projectiles. I closed my eyes, exhaled slowly and lowered my centre of gravity. Opening my eyes again I gave Greta a slight nod. The first missile sped towards me within an instant. I could see the blurry outline of a burning discus, the flames dancing madly in the wind. Here we go again. I took a half-step forwards into the path of the discuss. When I could feel its heat on my face, i pirouetted on my left foot, swirling out of the way. After I finished half a revolution, I jumped as high as i could, somersaulting over the second projectile. The third one came at me close behind while I was still in the air. Without another choice I rammed my tails into the ground to stop my momentum. I immediately dropped back on the floor but the burning and strained sensation from the tips of my tails made me botch the landing. I lost my balance and toppled over. Move, goddamn it! I tried to flip myself over and get on my feet but with the force of a small meteor a blunted edge crashed into my side, rupturing my skin and tossing me on my back. One rip gone, I thought. I clenched my teeth in anticipation, the pain was sure to come.

When the first waves hit I squirmed. That had been a mistake. I coughed up blood and tendrils of agony burrowed deeply into my side. A coppery smell invaded my nostrils, strengthening my nausea. I rolled up into a ball and tried to keep my breakfast down. It felt like aeons until Greta’s gnarly hand lightly touched my bloody side and the pain slowly subsided. When the ringing in my ears finally stopped I could hear Ahri, who had probably come to pick me up, berating Greta. Served her right.

“… birthday! You can’t hurt her like this, that’s not training, that’s just plain punishment!”

“It’s not my fault she’s so slow! 2 hours ago she easily dodged twice as many projectiles.”

“She is tired, you moron!” Ahri’s hands started to get hazy with white energy. “Wanna find out how you feel after running around for 2 hours?!” Seemed like I wasn’t the only hot-blooded one around here. But the old crone would mop the floor with my maid. No nice way of putting it.

“I’m fine. Ahri, I’m fine. Look”, I stood up and curtsied elegantly. “I can move and even do all the formal things. Don’t worry, Greta didn’t really hurt me.” That was a plain lie. “She patched me up already.” I declared while turning my large puppy-dog eyes on her. “I don’t even have any bruises left so I can wear that … beautiful light dress.” No idea why, but she loved to see me in a summery dress with an open back. I didn’t like the thing and especially the stares I received while wearing it. But if it made her calm down, I would even attend my birthday party in a nighty.

They both turned towards me and the light on Ahri’s palm died out. She scoffed at Greta and quickly gave me a once-over, patting me down gently. “Are you really okay? By the great fox, you were coughing up blood. I’ll take you to Dr. Hofffox.”

“No need.” Greta interjected before I could even utter a single word. “Her wounds were only superficial and she’s perfectly fine now. Many would pay an arm and a leg to get me to treat them, after all.” Ahri didn’t turn around, still focused on me, and only clicked her tongue. I gave her a reassuring smile and she finally relented: “Fine, but I’ll stay during the next training.” Greta smiled: “What an excellent idea.” I bet the old fury had enough projectiles for two students.

After I had brushed of the dirt and cut off the burnt part of my hair, I resemble a civilised individual once again. I only dreaded to explain to my mum how I had lost a third of my glowing locks. Before Ahri could take me back to the surface though, Greta pulled me aside: “I haven’t congratulated you yet. So happy birthday. It seriously has been an honour but mostly fun to teach you. I am looking forward to one day meet the woman you will become.” I was touched. I had never received a sincere compliment before. “I have two presents for you. Please don’t open them until you are alone tonight.” From somewhere within her cloak she pulled a thick, reddish envelope and a small wooden box with intricate runic designs engraved on the top. My skin prickled softly when I touched them.

Her gifts in hand and her words still ringing in my ears I bowed deeply. “Thank you, my friend.”

Our ascent through Boseiju’s roots took us about 10 minutes, walking through shadows broken only by glowing green veins of sap sloshing behind the tunnel walls. The musky scent of earth played around my nose and my feet clanked on hard wood, polished by age and uncountable feet that had dragged families to and from the testing. Ahri was brooding silently, probably still furious about the little incident before. I didn’t mind, my thoughts revolved around the upcoming festivities. To be completely honest, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to them.

After my family had picked me up from Greta’s for the first time I had made good use of my new-found speech and set some things straight. I had explained how I had awoken to memories, not of this body, and what had happened to the Furglows. At first they hadn’t believed me and then they had thought something had gone wrong with the testing. It had taken several trips and talks with Greta interrupted by shouting and once even tears, before they had accepted that yes, i was their daughter and yes, i was also something else, something old.

The first few weeks had been challenging. Funnily enough Mordred, my second brother, had been the one to intervene on my behalf and talk my family into accepting who, or rather what I was. After I had told my story, he had directly picked me up, hugged me and ruffled my hair. His deep voice had said: “So what? Doesn’t change a thing now, does it?” He had believed me and he hadn’t cared. I had been impressed, to say the least. Well, judging from the tears that had rolled down my face, I had been something slightly more than “impressed”.

During the following weeks me and Mordred had grown pretty close. He and Ahri had been the only ones who hadn’t treated me differently. My mum had tried but I had caught her ever so often watching me, deep in thought, and there had been a distance between us every time we had interacted. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I had spent most of my time with my brother and maid. We had talked for hours and they had shown me around our home, sometimes even around neighbouring parts of Boseiju. They had helped me with walking, reading and writing and I had told them about my flashbacks and the names that haunted my mind: Aurora and Michael. Come to think of it, they mostly had listened to me or helped me. I still didn’t know much about their past.

The rest of my family had slowly come around and things had gone back to normal, in a way. The relationship with my father had always been strained ever since and surprisingly, the merchant-incident hadn’t helped either. Even now he was still weary around me and I didn’t feel at ease either. We interacted cordially but only superficially.

Never the less, once my parents had gotten a grasp on the situation, they had decided that it was time to formally start my education. I had gotten a personal tutor for languages, geography, history, etiquette and arts, additionally I had had to meet Greta five times a week to learn about my heritage and powers. To top it all off, I had been required to attend court once a week, getting a grasp on politics and formal behaviour. Thankfully, trying to stab one of his petitioners had put a stop to those hours of boredom, at least for now. The main purpose had been achieved anyway, I was known as the beautiful, eccentric and gifted but mana-less third child of the palace of the moon. And therefore, my birthday had been a real nuisance for the last two years.