Aureus meets Puriel and Theia


    When she heard the door open into the room these people were keeping her prisoner in, Aureus turned to look at the door. Her hands fell away from the table she was standing next to, pretending she hadn’t been curiously examining the books that someone had left for her. It didn’t matter how interesting the titles looked, or how many of them were written by authors she had already devoured other works from. She was not here as a guest, no matter how much they kept trying to trick her otherwise. She was their prisoner and she was going to find a way out of this place to get back to the woman who truly cared about her. Whatever it took, she would find her way back to–


    “Kushiel.” The man who entered announced that name simply, his voice a mix of emotions, most of which Aureus couldn’t read. “She’s the one who did this to you, and the others.”


    It only took an instant for Aureus to recognize the newcomer, of course. Her knees hit the floor almost painfully as she dropped down as quickly as physically possible, bowing her head immediately. “Lord Puriel, you honor me with your presence.” No matter how confused he might’ve been thanks to the traumatic injuries he had been subjected to, the man was her personal hero. Not only was he the husband of the woman who had raised her, he had been the captain of the Olympus. She had read and listened to literally every story there was about him and his ship. Even if he had been entirely unrelated to Kushiel, the girl would have worshiped him. She spent years devouring every detail she could about their adventures, and he was right here.


    There was a brief cough from the man before he gestured. “We don’t do that anymore. Stand up. I want you to meet someone important.”


    “Something tells me she won’t be nearly as happy to see me,” a second voice, this one female, announced simply. Then the speaker stepped around Puriel to come into view. This one Aureus recognized immediately as well, from pictures and other recordings. “I don’t think Kushiel–”


    “Mother,” Aureus blurted. “She is your mother. You…” She gulped, staying on her knees while staring that way in awe. “You are the child, her child. We have been desperate to find you, to save you.”


    “That… is not the reaction I expected.” The girl sounded genuinely confused in that moment, blinking from the kneeling Aureus to Puriel and back again. “Are you certain she hasn’t been struck in the head repeatedly? What about memory magic? Our people are very prone to annoying memory magic.”


    “She hasn’t been tampered with like that,” Puriel assured her, though his own eyes were narrowed as he stared that way. “You say you wanted to save Theia, but–”


    Aureus hissed. “Do not say that name! It’s not hers. It’s the moniker these people have slapped her with, and should not even be uttered in her presence!”


    Theia, for her part, visibly perked up. “Oh, that’s the sort of reaction I expected. Good, I haven’t fallen through an invisible wormhole into an alternate reality. I was worried for a second. I have a cake in the oven and I wouldn’t want it to burn. At least I know Kushiel has taught her to hate me as much as–”


    “Hate you?” Aureus sounded taken aback, head shaking rapidly. “Oh no. No, what did they do to you? They really did erase everything, didn’t they? Your mother–no, no, she does not hate you, not at all. She loves you more than anything else in this universe. Everything she has done, all the work she has devoted her entire life and beyond to, has always been about saving everyone from the Fomorian threat, and about getting you back. Her daughter. You are her daughter, she loves you beyond all reason. She has been trying to save you from these people. They abducted you, twisted your memory, turned you against her. They manipulated your mind, used powerful magic to erase your identity, your name, from the memories of everyone in the universe aside from their own leadership.


    “She is your mother, and they have been so jealous and angry at her for all that she has accomplished, all that she will accomplish. They couldn’t actually stop her. Even in death, she is stronger than they ever imagined. Their jealousy led them to take you, her innocent daughter, so they could change your memories and erase your very name, simply to spite and hurt her for being so much better. They even stole your name from her own mind. I will not refer to you by the filthy identity they have slapped you with. It’s a sick joke. Aletheia, the true Aletheia, is the architect of this attack. She was always jealous of the incredible and everlasting love between Kushiel and Puriel. Through all the centuries they were together, she was incapable of coming between them. Her schemes always failed. At least, until she used ancient magic to twist his mind.” Her eyes glanced toward the man in question apologetically, as though saddened that she had to speak of such a tragedy in front of him. “Now she has stolen him, manipulated his very soul to turn him into what she desires. But that wasn’t enough. It was never enough. She had to steal you as well, Kushiel’s own beloved daughter.


    “But that wasn’t enough. No, of course, it would never be enough just to abduct and manipulate you. She hates Kushiel far too much for that. She had to change your memories of everything your mother tried to do, of everything she did do.” The righteous anger in her voice filled the room, and the other two could practically hear Kushiel speaking through her. These were very clearly her words, repeated like this. “You were not born Mendacia, no matter what you might think. You were a strong, healthy, brilliant child. Then she got to you when you were but a child. The real Aletheia. She used magic to turn you into this. She thought she could twist your mother’s love, but she failed. Kushiel will always love you, no matter what. She moved entire planets in her quest to restore you to what you were, to undo Aletheia’s magic. But no matter how changed you might have been, her love for you never faltered. Seeing that, seeing Kushiel’s devotion and realizing just how much she had failed in that attempt, drove the jealous Aletheia to these desperate ends. She could not destroy Kushiel’s love for you in truth, so she did so with a lie. She changed your memories.”


    Hands clenching tightly, Aureus swallowed hard. “That creature thinks this is over. She believes she has gotten away with it. But she is wrong. Whatever it takes, we will find a way to restore your memories, to save both of you.” She stared at them from that kneeling position, her voice sorrowful. “I am so sorry I cannot give your memories back now. But I swear to you, we are trying. We will fix this. If not me, then my siblings, and Kushiel. We will never stop until things are put right, and Aletheia is brought to justice.”


    A long, incredibly quiet moment passed while the other two simply stared at her. Puriel opened his mouth once or twice, but no sound emerged. What was he supposed to say to all that? What in the universe could he possibly say that would be the slightest bit of an appropriate reaction to that?


    In the end, it was Theia who reacted first, but not with words. She laughed. It came out in a short giggle first, then a snicker. Soon, she had stumbled backward against the nearby wall, hand out to catch herself. That was when the laughter truly came. It burst out loudly as she doubled over, clinging to the wall with both hands. She was laughing so hard right then she couldn’t see straight. Tears were pouring down her face. Few would have realized that the tears were not all from laughter. And soon, none of them were. What had begun as convulsions of amusement had become… worse.


    Forgetting the golden-haired girl who was still kneeling nearby, Puriel turned to his daughter. His hands found her shoulders, keeping her upright. “It’s alright, she–”


    “She knows,” Theia interrupted. “Kushiel. She knows what she did wrong, everything she did wrong. She knows because she–she lied. She lied to them to manipulate them.”


    Aureus opened her own mouth to protest, only to find herself encased in a silencing bubble as Puriel gestured that way, preventing her from speaking up. Instead, she knelt there, listening and watching.


    Theia found her voice once more after clinging to her father in a way that seemed both natural and completely new to both of them. “The only reason for her to lie that much about what happened is if she knew she was wrong and did it anyway. She wasn’t manipulated. She wasn’t tricked. She knows what was wrong and even now she’s lying about it to make herself look better. Not trying to do better, just lying about what happened.” The girl glanced away from both of them, voice cracking slightly. “She knew what was right, and did wrong anyway.”


    Oh no, no, this wasn’t what Aureus was trying to do at all. No, she didn’t mean to hurt Kushiel’s child! She should have known better. She should have realized that the magic the evil woman had used to create this entire situation would be far too strong to be broken with a few mere words. All she had managed to do by bringing it up was hurt the girl, and probably her father as well. The magic wouldn’t allow them to remember the truth, wouldn’t let the two believe what really happened to them. That creature, the jealous, evil Aletheia, was always one step ahead. Her schemes and manipulations had carried through the Olympus’s entire existence, and her jealousy of the beautiful Kushiel knew no limits. She had obviously prepared for something like this. Of course she had. Just bringing it up had clearly triggered some very powerful protective magics that were keeping her victims in line.


    She couldn’t try that again, not if it was going to hurt Kushiel’s child that much. The last thing she would ever want to do, the last thing their mother would want, was to cause the girl pain. No, Kushiel would obviously rather die another thousand times before allowing such a thing.


    And yet, she knew while staring at her adopted mother’s own beloved husband and  daughter, there had to be another way to restore their true memories, a way to undo Aletheia’s magic and put things back to how they should be.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Aureus just had to find it.


    *******


    Casey is reunited with Jones


    When she had first arrived in this place, only to hear from Dakota what it was, Casey had had… questions. A lot of them, in fact. She’d been peppering some of those questions toward the other girl as they walked through the aisles surrounded by games and rides. Unfortunately, Dakota hadn’t been able to tell her very much. At least, not about what was going on right then. She had no idea why the spell that was supposed to take them to Jones had brought them here instead, and promised that as far as she knew, Denny and the rest of the apparently-named Carnival didn’t know the Reaper. But even beyond that, she had no idea why the place appeared to be empty. There should have been a whole group in here, and the more they looked around only to find nothing there, the more worried Dakota became. Denny and the rest of the Carnival were apparently her friends, and seeing their home like this was making her a bit frantic. Especially as they continued through the place, calling out to no avail.


    It hadn’t taken Casey long to realize both that asking questions wasn’t helping because Dakota didn’t have answers to the most relevant ones, and that doing so was actively making the other girl more and more anxious because she was worried about her friends. So, she stopped asking and focused on helping Dakota look for Denny and the others. Which led them to the so-called Haunted House. Dakota said that was where the boy, Theodore, had been found before. So maybe they all saw it as a hiding place in case something went wrong.


    Obviously, just because she had let the questions go in order to focus on helping didn’t mean Casey had forgotten them. They were still there, buzzing away in the back of her mind. And yet, when the two of them finished descending the stairs to check the basement, and she saw who was there waiting for her, those questions vanished. Everything vanished. Every thought she had evaporated. All, that was, aside from one, a name.


    “Jones?” She could hear the shock and disbelief in her own voice, and felt the need to answer herself, just to make certain the universe wouldn’t think it could change its mind and pretend this wasn’t happening. “It’s… you.”


    But the universe didn’t taunt her, didn’t snatch the Reaper away after dangling her right in front of the girl. Instead, Jones actually spoke. In the eight years that had passed since she first met the Reaper, Casey had never forgotten her voice. That day was seared into her memory. It was the day her mother was murdered, the day she had run into the house to warn her mama that her new friend had said there was a bad man and had seen… had seen what that bad man did to her mother. She remembered everything about that time, including the voice. And now, for the first time in eight years, she heard it again. “Casey? What? You’re… you’re…”


    And then she was there. She was right in front of Casey, in a flash of pink smoke. The next thing the girl knew, Jones was lifting her off the floor with completely casual ease. Casey felt like she was five years old again. And she laughed like it too. She laughed in a way that she really hadn’t since… well, since that day. Oh, she had laughed since then, of course. But not like this. Now, with her arms and legs wrapped around the older woman, she felt safe. Jones had been there when her mother died, and now she was back. She was here. Everything Casey had done over all this time to find her again and she was still in shock that it had actually worked. She’d expected something to go wrong, or for there to be something else she had to do, that some guy would tell her Jones was in another castle. But no, she was right here.


    Right… here.


    Finally, Jones set her down, but kept her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders. “Casey, it’s really you.” She sounded equally dazed and taken aback by their reunion. Probably more so. “How are you– I don’t…” Her head tilted almost fully sideways as she processed the new realization. “You Bonded. My… blood. You Bonded to my blood.”


    By that point, Casey realized that no one else was moving. Nothing was moving. Everyone around them was frozen. She saw Dakota nearby, locked in mid-step toward Denny and the other members of the Carnival. “You stopped time?” It wasn’t really surprising, not after everything else she already knew.


    And yet, Jones shook her head. “No, I sped us up. I want to hear everything, I want–I want you to tell me what happened to you. But their friends are missing, so we have to make this quick. I… made us quick enough to say everything we need to say without making them wait. But you–I don’t–Casey!” Then she was embracing her again, even tighter that time.


    Casey, naturally, returned the hug as hard as she could. She wasn’t worried about hurting Jones, and she definitely didn’t feel the need to hide her own strength the way she did with everyone else. Crying. Why was she crying? This was a happy time, she was happy! Jones was–she had been looking for Jones this whole time, why couldn’t she stop crying now?


    Jones seemed to realize that being in here with these other people, even if they were moving so slowly, was still too hard for everything they needed to get into. So the two of them walked out of the mansion together and began to make their way through the empty carnival. Over the next few minutes (possibly a single second for everyone else), Casey told the Reaper everything that had happened to her. She started with the moment she had kicked that ball at recess and sent it into orbit, and continued on through meeting those Alters who had tried to kill her before she accidentally killed them instead and inherited all their knowledge, being recruited by an unknowing Eden’s Garden, and everything else, all the stuff she had done to get this far and find her again.


    Once she was done Jones stared at her for a few long moments before going down on one knee in front of the younger girl. “You really did all that just to find me?”


    “There’s no just,” Casey protested. “You saved me. You’re my friend. You’re–I have your blood. You made me everything I am. My mom died and you stopped the guy–”


    “The Shredder,” Jones put in.


    “The Shredder,” Casey agreed after a moment. “You stopped the Shredder from killing me too. And when you did that, you made yourself a part of me. Of course I had to find you. I’d do anything to find you. But… but you seem different than before. Not bad, just… different, you know a lot more stuff.”


    “So do you,” Jones pointed out with a small smile. “I think we both grew up a lot. And there’s a lot more to talk about. But let’s help these people first, okay?”


    Casey’s head bobbed. “Okay. Wait, how can we help them?”


    Jones took a deep breath. “Well, actually, there’s really only one way to do that.


    “I’m gonna have to show you where I grew up.”


    ********


    (NON-CANON – WHAT IF AMMON WAS SAVED/REDEEMED IN BOOK/YEAR ONE?)


    “My name is Ammon! Hurt Flick Chambers!”


    That was the shout that started the whole thing, really. With those words filling the air, Flick chased Ammon across the grounds of Crossroads. The other students, those who had heard his call, tried to stop her. They tried to hurt her, exactly as they had been ordered. But despite those efforts, Flick kept closing the distance. It helped when the boy ran into Koren and failed to control her as well. Which gave the other girl someone to send after Scout so the mind-controlled sniper would stop shooting at her.


    With every step, she was getting closer. She was closing the distance between them, even as she wondered why the boy was running toward the lighthouse instead of trying to get to a boat or anything else. Why was he trying to go to that building?


    Just before they reached the front door of the place, Flick found her gaze shifting to one side, as though expecting to see someone coming around the corner. But there was no one there. No one to interrupt as Ammon hit the door and went barreling inside. And no one to stall her from following right after him. Together, they raced up the stairs. Ammon continued to stay just barely ahead of her on the steps while she desperately tried to grab his ankle, his sleeve, a pant leg, anything to stop him from getting away. If it was even possible for him to get away like this.


    “Ammon! Wait! Fuck, just wait a minute, you can’t–where are you going?!”


    “My name is Ammon–” The boy started, his voice echoing through the stairwell so loudly it seemed to make the walls around them vibrate. Which only made Flick wonder who he was talking to, since he knew his power didn’t work on her.


    But, wonder or not, she wasn’t just going to wait and see. Using the only thing she had available at that moment, the girl reared back and hurled her own pet rock, Herbie, at the back of the boy’s head. The stone bounced off Ammon’s skull without so much as leaving a mark, thanks to all his protective powers. But it did distract him, just as he was about to give an order to… well, whoever he was trying to talk to. And it made him stumble for one step. Which was enough for Flick to lunge and grab his ankle. Her hand closed around that and she held on while the boy tried to jerk his leg free. That made him lose his footing even more, and they both went tumbling back down the stairs.


    “My name is Ammon!” He shouted even louder that time, while the pair rolled painfully together, Flick trying to cover his mouth. To an outside observer, it would have looked very much like two siblings simply roughhousing with each other, as such were prone to do. But of course, this was far more perilous and dire than a brother and sister fighting over the television remote. With far greater consequences.


    At the bottom of the stairs, Flick ended up on top of Ammon. Her hand descended toward his mouth, even as her face reeled backwards from a wild swing of one of his flailing fists that struck her chin. Yet just before she could entirely close off his voice, he managed to twist his head to the side and frantically blurt, “Save me!”


    Those were the words he chose in that desperate second. They weren’t what he would have said in a calmer moment. Flick was about to take away his ability to speak. He knew his father would be angry if he was captured here, no matter what the rules said about there not being any consequences on his birthday. Being captured here would be very bad. He was panicking. And thus, he said two very crucial words, giving a very critical order. He did not say ‘transport me,’ or ‘teleport me’ or even ‘get me out of here.’


    He said ‘save me.’


    An instant after he said those words, after he gave that order with his power, both he and Flick vanished from the stairwell of the lighthouse. They re-appeared in a small, ordinary looking home. Or at least, what appeared to be a home. A tall, pale man with long blue hair stood next to a ringing phone, which he was ignoring. His voice was even. “And here you are.”


    Ammon leapt to his feet while Flick was still looking around in confusion. His own eyes snapped straight to the man, the Crossroads Reaper. “What–what is this?!” He demanded. “I told you to–”


    “You ordered me to save you, and so I have,” came the answer. “Our business is complete. You may go now.”


    Before the boy could say anything else, even as Felicity’s mouth opened to blurt something, they vanished once more. Now the two found themselves standing in another familiar place, the street outside the Chambers home in Wyoming.


    “Hey where–what–Ammon!” Eyes widening, Flick moved to grab the boy, only to miss him as he fell to his knees. She recoiled just in case, but this was no attack.


    “Oh…” Ammon’s voice was small. “Oh no. Oh God. All those people. The girl at the gas station, the guy in the park, those–those–” He doubled in on himself, arms clutching his stomach as the tears began to come. He cried for everything he had done, right there in the middle of the street.


    The Reaper had not saved him by teleporting him away from the trouble he had gotten himself into. He had saved the boy in a far more critical way.


    He restored Ammon’s conscience.