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Just as Shaheen and Shik were about to wake up, they hear a voice.

"This way."

It calls to them within the dream and forces them to stay within it a little longer. A figure forms, dressed in regal violets. Medea. In her hand a staff, empty. She waits patiently for them to find her, find her through the mass of black, and then begins to walk again, cloak trailing behind her. "Follow me, this is of utmost urgency."

She walks, and falls silent. The rest is simply a strange jumble of colours, of distorted spaces and a Wonderland that was. It was unusual, as if falling out of a pool of colour to land on exactly the wrong side.

"We are here." Medea steps forward. She taps the ground with her staff, the end of it, though nothing happens at first-

- And then there is a spark. She doesn't seem happy. "Your Fear, a greater sacrifice. I require your weapons."

Shaheen was more then ready to wake up after all of that. Some of what they had experienced at the end had been painful, but not nearly so much of that caused as much discomfort as the thought that they had somehow failed. The Red Queen had lost despite their best efforts but...maybe that was not such a bad thing as in the end, the White Queen perhaps did not quite win ether. It was all so confusing, and more so for the chieftain who knew so little about how these things worked. Her mind revolved around more simple matters.

Blood, pain, battle, weapons, chaos.

Okay so the ending had been rather chaotic, that much was true. But when she slipped away into darkness that final time, she expected to awaken next to Shik in their home, to be able to discuss it all, to then take what they had seen to Medea to ask about what it all meant.

It seemed, however, that Medea would find them first.

Her voice broke through everything else, and Shaheen stirred. Still in the dream world, it seemed, and her face took on a grim expression as she found herself moving, awakening in a sense, and moving so that she could begin to follow the voice, though she soon found somebody else beside her. He didn't need to extend a wing towards her, she did it towards him instead, brushing it against his back.

"Indeed. Let us see what this is all about." She murmured, a bit more subdued then usual, perhaps still a little overwhelmed by what they had witnessed, or still thinking things through.

There were colors and images, some blurred and some clear. It was still the dream world, it was still wonderland but...distorted, changed, and it gave her an uneasy feeling to look upon.

She found herself focusing on Medea instead, stopping when the other woman did as well, and waited.

Their weapons? For a moment she was confused, thinking that Medea meant her sword. But here, in the dreamworld, her sword was never able to be summoned. Instead, a large axe shaped like a wing was what came to hand.

Stepping forward with Shik, she offered it out towards Medea. "Is this what you wish for?" She asked, still finding it odd.

He did not know whether to take the laughter in stride or start objecting. Something was up with Medea, and whatever it was, while getting her out of that languor from before, was also making her seem . . . manic. Or maybe that was the urgency, whatever.

Their weapons broke and became almost familiar distortion crystals, seized and crushed like paper. Shik stepped back instinctively the moment white vines began to grow; he did not want a repeat of the caged experience, thank you very much.

What exactly had happened on the outside? He glanced at Shaheen and swore that if they woke up to absolute chaos (or worse, missing minipets), he would burn something to the ground. "What do you mean?" he asked Medea quickly, his scimitar still out. "Like this?" It had technically been given to him along with a vision of power at the temple . . .

He didn't like this. He didn't like that for once he couldn't ask something without wasting time.

"Or the clones," Shik added dryly. "I'm sure there should be enough of those still lying about in this heap that could be useful, yes?"

"Items of power," Medea specified, not actually being any more specific. She snatched up the pocket card anyway, holding it upside down while tilting her head just slightly to the side. "An odd shape for a weapon." That got crushed as well, and the pieces generously sprinkled over the staff. The white vines around her staff now began to blossom red flowers, just a few at a time, the staff entirely covered now with vines and flowers.

"Almost," she whispered, her eyes feverish, "just one, one more tiny thing. Human blood."

Oh this was going to be another fetch quest.

"Of which I happen to have." A second later Medea pulled out a vial and poured the whole contents onto the base of the staff as well. Silence as then the staff collapsed, the vines and flowers dissolving into ash as well. The Head Priestess didn't seem bothered however as she crouched down and scooped up all the ashes, revealing two perfect stones glittering in the center, one red, one white.

"Well," Medea tilted her head the other direction. "Red, or white?"

Shaheen was frankly, surprised that the pocket card was of any use at all, but she accepted it with only the smallest of smug looks sent in Shik's direction.

But then her attention fell back on what was happening, and at Shik's commentary, she couldn't help but snort softly in amusement, hiding a smile behind her hand as she continued to watch and attempt to take this seriously, even extending a wing to give the executioner a slap on the back of the head with.

Everything had become ashes, and from out of that, a choice to be made. Hadn't Medea already told them what their choice must be? Still, she questioned the presence of white for just a moment. The white queen had won, after all, but there was no telling if this was even related to that.

No, they needed to stay their course. "Red. As Shik says, we already know what our choice must be. Why would it change now?" She stared at that red gem, focusing on it's glittering center.

"It must be red." Red for blood, red for destruction, red for the apocalypse that must come.

A whack on the head was worth it, after all that Wonderland bullshit. And here, at last, was a seed of destruction he could get behind.

He chuckled a little along with Medea, because why not. It was about damn time.

"I promised you, didn't I?" he said to Shaheen as he reached out and touched the staff, smirking triumphantly. The marriage minigame was a farce: this was the true union worthy of them, with Destruction their labor and reward. Had he known anything about human culture, he would have also laughed at the fact that there was a priestess practically officiating the ceremony. It was a dream, yes, or a fragment of one. But what they were doing here was very, very real.

And one day, everyone would know of their work.

The staff burst into flames, deep, angry red flames, but it didn't hurt. No, it didn't hurt at all, it only felt like power. Tattooed on both Shik and Shaheen's hand was what looked like a strange, ornamental heart.

It glowed a bright red, the same intense red as the flames. It felt like power and yet a strange new power, like something opening up in both the Horsemens' minds at once, a door that was once sealed shut.

They saw not just one of them, but for a moment multiple versions, different Shiks, different Shaheens all splitting and moving into different worlds and times. They saw some rise, some fall, and some taper and branch and create new possibilities. Doors. What they saw was endless doors.

And as time passed, all the possibilities tapered off until there was only one door and it glowed a deep red.

"Well?" Medea prompted, "Open it. Open the door."

The staff came alight with fire, but Shaheen didn't flinch, wouldn't flinch. Like Shik, she was already willing to sacrifice everything, and nothing would deter her, not even the threat of burning alive. But these flames didn't burn, didn't hurt, and left behind a brand on each of their hands, one that glowed, and seemingly gave strength as the cheiftain felt power flow through her.

It was glorious and beautiful. It was a power she had not felt since the fall of the lost clans. It was a feeling she sorely missed, and one that she would cling to with a desperate unwillingness to ever let it go now that she had it again.

The visions came then, the versions of herself unfolding and expanding out in front of her. She as a mother, she as a warrior, fallen and bleeding on the ground. She as a hunter, her weapon a similar version to the one she had wielded in the dream world. She as a human, she as the Golden Emporer's chosen general. She as so many different things, so many different stories, but there was only one story that mattered to this Shaheen, and it was the version she was living, here and now.

And what a fantastic story it was going to be.

In front of them appeared a door, and Shaheen's eyes were lit up with excitement when Shik took her freshly marked hand in his. Together they went forward.

Together, they pushed open the door.