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 Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 8:34 pm
[ January 3, Morning ]
A heavy sleeping bag, four large water bottles, multiple bags of trail mix and two containers of a cold chicken salad she wasn't much worried about in her bag--worse case, she could let it freeze on the Martian nights. Which was also why she'd packed a small heater. She'd brought a lighter to help her make a fire if necessary, but Danika wasn't sure what she could find for fuel for such a fire beyond... well, grass. And that wouldn't go well for long. A flashlight, many, many extra batteries--both for the flashlight, and the space heater. Her cell, though she knew her ring would be of more use if she ran into any trouble.
And if she got into extreme trouble?
No one could reach her on Mars, but she hoped even if she got injured she'd be able to get herself back to Earth. So long as she landed in her apartment, she'd be able to get help from there.
It took.... a surprising amount of effort to not let her mind wander to the knights killed on Minstral, and not knowing if the bodies had just been.... left there, or if they'd gotten back to Earth.
It was a thought process she didn't want to entertain for a variety of reasons, the least bit being allowing herself to back down from her endeavor. It wasn't like there was any map of Themiscyra she'd found--yet--though she'd come across some plans here and there in her time in the library. Nothing that seemed to really show her.... exactly where to go. Which was why, the moment she left the apartment, giving Dom numerous promises she'd keep in contact and making him give numerous promises he'd keep an eye on Andronicus and watch out for any of their friends, as Themiscyra moved through space to her city...
She was startled to see herself appear before the librarys this time, instead of the normal gates she'd appeared before on her last few trips. Red eyes glanced about, but sure enough, this was the part of the city she normally had to walk to. "Well this is.... convenient," she mumbled, unnerved by the switch in her usual route. Eyeing the carved women on the doors, she slowly pushed into them. Coincidence only, unless she had more control over where she appeared in her city than she'd realized. Or unless there was more at work here trying to assist her. A... very strange thought that, but she wasn't sure what was blasphemous and what was reasonable to expect from the forces at work any more.
It took her a few moments of simply staring at the shelves that surrounded her before she picked some of the closest shelves to begin her search first. No giant maps greeted her in displays or along the walls--but she could recognize the collection of four symbols, four characters, that symbolized "Themiscyra." She'd watched.... herself, write them, along with the quartets that she now identified with "Kairatos" and "Valhalla." Was that how Martian language worked? It couldn't be characters by syllable--Kairatos and Themiscyra had four, but Valhalla had three. More questions to ask another time.
She wasn't here for translations.
Scouring the shelves, she searched for scrolls and books with the four symbols of Themiscyra, each time her eye caught on the collection she opened the manuscript, the scroll, the tablet... whatever it was, searching the contents for what she hoped would be a map. Her searches turned up nothing, though she noticed now more than before how often the symbol for the Compact, Kairatos, and Valhalla seemed to follow the symbols of Themiscyra. Other quartets showed up here and there, often with as much frequency--if not more depending on the text it seemed--but she couldn't figure out what those other quartets symbolized.
Finding nothing of interest in the first few shelves, she moved on to the second floor, peeking at different works of art, at different scrolls and books put on display. She began to see what seemed to be depictions of parts of the city, but nothing seemed to stand out to her. It was interesting--she saw illustrations of gardens, of sprawling homes, of training fields, marketplaces, even a public bath. Each depicting women, she noted.
Danika wandered into one of the connecting buildings--or began to. The thick hall that connected the first two second stories had windows of more mosaic glass, the sun cutting through space to reach her beyond the glass of red, gold, and tan of the particular mosaic she stood behind. She wriggled her fingers, the colors glinting off her silver and red ring. Beyond the mosaic, she could just barely make out the highest point of the city, a central hill--mountain, almost--with tiers of road and buildings leading ever up. Her eyes caught at the highest point, the highest building. She'd seen it in one of the illustrations, an elaborate affair up close that reminded her of both a Greek temple, and a palace. So many rooms, so much space. She leaned against the wall beside the window, squinting through the sunlight to stare at the building in the distance. Such a massive building....
....such a spectacular view. The smile was impossible to stop as her hip rested against the carved rail, the vantage allowing the warm air to tangle her hair and play through the cloth of her skirt. She could see the city of Themiscyra stretched out beneath her, around her. Embracing, supporting, pushing... waiting. The brows beneath the head-plate furrowed but she turned, facing the largest of their judicial houses. Images of the goddesses of honor, justice, penance, standing alongside their divine counterparts of valor, sovereignty, and punishment. They watched over all whom were brought within these walls--Themiscyra itself. The city's heart, its central seat. Yet not its core.
Women nodded to her as she passed, each met with a courteous bow of her head or soft smile. Record keepers met her near the open doors, informing her of the dockets for the day. When she inquired of the use of the central chamber, they were quick to inform her when she would have a moment to herself within the walls. Warily, she wondered if they had made it intentional for the next breaking point would be hours yet. Still, she humored them, spending her time in the smaller court chambers, listening in on the proceedings. Everything from property to custody disputes, trade disputes to market squabbles, even to trials over if a girl had the right to leave her mother's home to reside with her equally young lover's family instead. That had been a more intriguing case, one she made note to return to later after her trip.
At length, the central chamber opened and the main halls went quiet. She left the less tense--in stark comparison--atmosphere of the smaller courts to return to the halls, watching as a group of men were escorted out. Foreigners, tradesmen, whom had come to do business within their markets. Accepted without qualm within the lower markets closer to the outer walls of the city, yet these men had petitioned to set up shop further into the city. Her breath came out in a controlled sigh, keeping her silence despite her disappointment. She enjoyed their leather works, and knew of many whom would have purchased from them. Had the youngest not gotten so drunk and handled one of the women of his family as he had. Though she had not pressed charges, enough of the city's residents had seen the dispute and reported it. She could see the young man at the center of his elders, eyes red-rimmed. She watched as they turned towards some of the guards and the heavy cuffs were placed around his wrists. There was little sympathy in her heart to hear him begin to cry, though she hoped his family would continue their petition to work further within the city. His folly did not have to mean their suffering. She knew the judges would not weigh his behavior on them after the men of his family had handed him to the guards summoned on the case.
Citizens and even a few she realized to be foreigners based on their attire emptied out of the central chamber, and for a time milled about in the hall. The citizens recognized her, as did the lingering guards whom did not escort the young man to the prisons. To them she nodded as she passed, none standing in her way of entering the central chamber. The domed room stretched high above, viewing platforms arranged up on the second floor for more high profile cases that drew exponential crowds, while most cases only warranted the large assembly seating separated from the front quarter of the room. Reliefs of the goddesses served as pillars along the back walls, the viewing platforms held up by pillars of stone carved flame and the city guards. Tables for the defendant and those that spoke in their favor sat on one side near the assembly, while the prosecutor and those that spoke in their favor sat at the other. The great dais where the judges would sit, framed by the stone guards and backed by the goddesses that guided their judgement, sat before all.
The knight turned towards the pillar of the goddess of punishment. By her side, she raised a hand and placed it against the warm red stone. It shifted, trembled, and moved. A door. A door guarded by punishment. Her foot raised, stepped within the tunnel lit by oil lamps---
---Danika let out a shriek, stumbling backwards and falling on her a** and her bag in her haste. She'd traveled. Moved. Her eyes whipped about, taking in the court room she now sat in. It looked... so much like how it had in her head. But she'd... moved. Her legs ached, feet covered in the fine red dust to prove she'd walked. Walked... from the library, all the way here. Her eyes returned to the dark tunnel before her, lit no longer by oil lamps. Nothing but darkness greeted her, a gaping maw awaiting her to step in.
She glanced up, to the large statue of the goddess. Punishment..? Her attention flicked back to the door, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. What on earth would be a door guarded by punishment..?
Trembling, she corrected her thoughts. What on Mars would be behind such a door? Danika moved slowly, picking up her bag and moving up the stairs to sit on the dias. Very little of the domed room seemed affected by time, though she noticed the paints across the statues and walls were not as vivid. Still shaking, legs throbbing, she unrolled her sleeping bag and set up her small heater. It took a while before she felt comfortable enough to drink some of her water and nibble a bit of the trail mix. Her eyes kept moving to the dark tunnel.
It was obvious something was down there.
It was a grim thought to realize she would have to travel down there soon enough to see for herself exactly what.
[ Word Count: 1,879 ]
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Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2015 4:51 pm
[ January 4, Morning ]
Groggy eyes glared out over the edge of the sleeping bag. First to the domed ceiling that was certainly not her bedroom ceiling, then to the space heater that, while it was still running, was sure as ******** not the warm body she was used to waking up snuggled into lately. Danika closed her eyes for a moment before she grudgingly admitted staying in her sleeping bag wasn't going to make anything easier. Grumbling, she got up, hissing at the impact of the cold air against her skin that had, surprisingly, been pretty warm in that bag. Food was simple--water and some of the chicken salad she'd been planning to have for a dinner the night before. Seeing as that hadn't gone as planned, she wasn't against scarfing it down in the early Martian morning. It was cold, as expected, and tasted wonderful.
Not quite so wonderful, however, was the uncomfortable sensation in her lower abdomen. Danika shifted where she sat before glancing around. Somehow, she didn't think she'd be finding a bathroom or a portapotty down that dark tunnel. Though if last night was any indicator, she'd probably find a few reasons to need one. Grumbling, she tossed the first empty chicken salad container into her bag and gulped down some water. She searched about the room but didn't see a side room to go down, so out to the hall she went. She poked into various rooms, each lined with reliefs or statues, or both, of the various figures she now realized were goddesses. And guards. She gave a few tentative looks as she passed, impressed by the life-like size and features on all of them. She half expected some to come alive and go after her.
Deciding she really didn't want to take a piss in front of a goddess or a guard, Danika had finally taken refuge outside of the court house--houses? There were many, many court rooms in there, she wasn't entirely sure it could be called a single house--down the road a little ways. It still hadn't felt all that great, and a part of her felt she was doing a walk of shame back to her stuff to finish packing up. But as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulders with her flashlight firmly in hand, moving to stand in front of the dark tunnel, she had to admit... she felt a hell of a lot more ready to face whatever lurked in the darkness.
Danika lingered. For a moment. It was cold air that met her from the tunnel. Sunlight filtered into the domed room, mosaics giving it ethereal appearances. Sunlight that wouldn't reach her not long after she entered that place. "Just think of all the things I'll be able to tell Xan, Chris, and Paris," she told herself, a forced smile coming to place. It... worked, enough at least for her feet to start moving. Did she think she'd find the secret to rescuing her friends down here? She wasn't sure, didn't think so but couldn't be positive.
She had to try though.
Had to chase the piece of the puzzle left to her by those memories that weren't memories.
If she could find it, maybe she could disprove that part of the future. That her knew more about the Compact when Kairatos was taken. The Compact meant more. It didn't mean anything now. Out of order? Was this a different capture?
Her thoughts were good to distract her from the darkness around her. As she'd thought, the sunlight didn't linger with her long, relying only on her flashlight to light her through the dark halls. The halls expanded, opening up on either side to include upturned chairs and what she realized were barred holding cells. Further down, entire wings of halls were barred off. Stairs met her, lead her down. More halls, more wings closed off--moving the flashlight between the bars, she could see the halls beyond were filled with walls lined with bars. Cells.
She was in a prison.
An immense prison, she realized, as she went down flights of stairs, down halls upon halls, with smaller halls and so many cells expanding off of them. Some were caved in here and there, but for the most part the prisons remained intact. She could see large auditoriums were tables were arranged for prisoners to eat within their wings and sectors, other halls had large open rooms she debated might have been for physical exercise. Evidence of a massive system of lamps was evident everywhere, though she wondered now and then if perhaps some electricity might have been used, judging by the strange shape of some of the figures in the main halls further down. With places like Minstral existing at the same time, she wouldn't have doubted some upgrades happening down here.
As she walked, one of the halls opened up. Wider and wider, the cells--the kinds people would live in, with beds and what she realized were bowls to act as toilets--only on one wall to her left. To her right? The wall fell away. Structured to be so, with thick pillars supporting the ceiling. Danika stilled and stared at the monstrous view before her. Level upon level upon level of cells, of halls, of rooms... she gave a tentative step towards the edge of the walk way, for that was all it was. The right wall was gone, replaced by a view of the circling prison and its countless tiers down. At intervals she could see platforms that lead out into the empty chasm and her breath left her in a horrified squeak. Until she drew closer, and realized they weren't planks to push prisoners off.
Chains as thick as her arm, and thicker, and ropes wound together hung down in the chasm, and further down she realized why. Elevators. Large containers to move guards and prisoners throughout the levels, she realized. She traveled downwards, down to where one of the elevators hung, waiting at one of the platforms. This one she realized was ornately carved, reliefs of fire and chains creating a foreboding facade. Carefully, Danika began to walk towards it, her sandal echoing even with a soft click in the massive space as it hit the first step on the platform.
The women standing before her on either side of the dock for the lift refused to move. It was the largest of their lifts, the one that ran into the deepest parts of the prisons. None of the others were capable of reaching the depths, making it easy to reduce access to the prisoners held beneath. That she was the one being denied access though was charming.
Her gaze was level as she looked at the two impressive women, their armor not at all concealing the flexing biceps and how they had yet to waver in their stance despite holding it for hours since the change of guard. She had nothing personally against the guards, only curious whom was trying to play a prank on them. Or whom was stupid enough to think they could restrict her from the depths of her domain.
"You have no official business below at this time, knight," repeated one of the guards, the one to her left. The knight in question slightly raised a brow. The woman brought her spear down with a clang on to the platform, meeting her look for look. "If you wish to descend, you must receive permission from the warden of that sector. We have received no such notification nor do you bare a mark of her permission."
The corners of her lips turned upward--out of the corner of her eye, she saw the second guard flinch at the sight, something her partner did not mimic. The knight did not try to put any kindness into her expression, though she felt her amusement must have been obvious. Permission from the warden? The guard on her left didn't seem new. Yet her hand still went to the golden chain at her hip, pulling forth the long expanse of the slender metal. The guard on the right paled slightly though the guard continuing to block her remained stoic. "You see this chain I hold before you?" Her voice remained calm, though she would not deny the acid it dripped. The woman only gave a curt nod. Her own grip on the chain tightened, the gold glistening in the multitude of lights around them. "Then you know its purpose and the permission it grants. I am the knight of this city. I bear the chains of the city. Stand aside or I will throw you aside," she snarled, taking a step towards the cocky fool.
The guard to the right moved down the platform to the sturdy rock, though her partner remained standing in the knight's path. "I know what the chains are. I also know you still must bow to the rulers of the city. Your weight as knight only grants you so much." Was that contempt she heard in the other woman's voice, saw spark in her eyes? "I suggest you do not forget your own place here."
Yet before she needed to act on her threat, a growing urge at the challenge placed before her, the woman bowed her head and moved aside, quickly joining her partner on the rock walkway. She watched the guards carefully for a moment before winding the chain back up and replacing it at her belt. Her own place?
Entering the lift and lowering the lever to where she needed to go, her arms crossed at her chest as she watched the world outside the lift move away from her and upward. Her own place was torn between the city and the prisons, the podium and the battlefield.
Her eyes followed the rows of cells she passed, aware of the cold air that greeted her the further down she went. Prisoners looked back at her from behind the bars, from within the darkness some resided in further down. Prisoners from other worlds they could not contain; the deeper she traveled, the fewer native born Martians she found. At last the lift came to a rest, the lowest point that could be accessed by the mechanical lifts, and she left the chamber. No guards greeted her, though she could see them stationed in pairs down each of the short halls she passed. Seven halls for seven cells, she followed the main corridor as it opened into an empty room. Bowing to each of the women that stood within, ancient statues that bore the chains, the weight of this prison and domain, she placed her hand against the central stone of the far wall. Carved by the symbol of the Compact, the pressure released the stone door from its place.
Danika didn't scream this time. She fell to her knees, trembling as she looked around herself. Her flashlight was dim, nearly out, and her legs ached fiercely. She... was surrounded. Statues of women she'd never seen towered over her, around her, lined in rows and files. Watching her. Clasping to them the chains of their duty. The room was massive to contain all the statues, a troubling sight. Were they all... supposed to be knights of Themiscyra? Her pulse was erratic. She'd seen those golden chains before. That other her held them, held them out to Andronicus when she questioned if she remembered the oath.
Her eyes squinted through the dim lighting to stare up at the door before her. Same symbol. Same place. Waiting for her to open the door.
It took a while before she was able to gather herself enough to change the batteries in her flashlight and make her way back down the hall. No guards down the seven halls, but at the end she did spot the ornately carved elevator. Lift. She could see her footprints in the disturbed dust. It at least explained how she got down here.
Turning her attention back to the chamber of statues, Danika couldn't bring herself to press the stone on the door.
Only brought out her food, her water, sleeping bag and space heater. And hoped to god none of the statues were going to start moving or talking to her...
[ Word Count: 2,052 ]
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Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2015 8:16 pm
[ January 4, Late Evening {11:55pm} ]
She'd kinda known attempting to sleep would have been useless. She'd tried, curling around the space heater and nibbling numbly at her food. But comfort hadn't come, no release from the unease of where she lay. What am I doing? The shadows from the flashlight and the soft glow from the space heater did nothing to alleviate the shadows of the room around her. She'd tucked herself away under the door, giving herself the clearest vantage point of the hall she'd traveled down, and of the statues around her. Of course, she'd also given herself no real option of hiding--unless she suddenly was willing to dive behind the statues. What am I doing here?
Chris and Paris had surrendered to the Negaverse. Xanthus was taken. That Squire of Venus was saying her child was taken. A knight of Cosmos who'd never hurt anyone, far as she'd ever heard, was taken. Who else? Who else suffered by the Negaverse?
And what was she doing?
Hiding. Again.
Danika curled deeper into her sleeping bag, trying to block out the thoughts, the reality. The memories.
Fear as the Generals and General Sovereigns closed in on Kairatos. Tanais knocked out by the General Queen. She'd tried to fight back. Hvergelmir and Andronicus teleported her out of the battle. Only death for the Transcendeds and the traitor. At least for the Royal Knight and the Knight, they could be corrupted back to the Negaverse--kept alive. Such a concept had infuriated her, lashing out after the battle by leaving the headquarters of the Resistance. Gone to her city. Escaped.
Came back only to find her loved ones dead.
"Am I going to go back to earth just to die again?"
The sensation of her blood leaving her, the cold, the exhaustion of fighting any more... Danika couldn't stop the bubble of fear, of it popping into a cry. Her shoulders shook, her eyes closed as she tried to fight the sensations but she remembered dying in Andronicus' arms, and in Ashur's.
I'll find you in the next life.
"I just got them, don't let me die again," she whimpered to the statues around her, teeth chattering as she fought to try and contain herself. Something that failed miserably. She clung to herself, nails digging into flesh as she tried to hide further under the cover of the sleeping bag. She missed the days of just worrying about college and her job, of trying to make sure she didn't get pulled over by a cop or her mom would find out in seconds. Things she wished again were the biggest issues of her life. She never had to worry before about anyone but her mom making it home alive each night. Other worlds? Didn't exist to this degree.
Didn't matter in her world.
Yet oh how a monster and a girl in pastels had shattered her world.
And now there were people she loved, captured, who knew what was happening to them...
And she was crying, hiding away on another ******** planet.
Pathetic
Danika pushed herself to her feet, shoulders shaking as she sucked in trembling breaths. Damn near clawed her eyes out with how she pushed at the tears and raw flesh around her eyes. She packed up her bag, hiccuping every now and then and letting it follow with a slew of swears. They were missing. Missing. If she was going to be up here on Mars and not helping the others search, she sure as ******** better have something to show for it.
As she straightened, something caught her eye. Danika turned, pointing the flashlight to the entrance of the room. Nothing stirred but she frowned. Her bag rested at her feet, waiting for her to shoulder it and move on. Yet she moved back towards the entrance of the chamber of statues, carefully moving her flashlight across the stone faces and the spaces between them. Nothing moved, nothing so much as breathed when she held her own breath to listen. The prisons were silent. Not even the chains clanked or moved since they'd settled after her ride down.
And yet...
A flicker. Light danced down the hall. Fire burned across the walls.
She blinked, and the light was gone. Nothing but her flashlight to light her way as she turned back to the chamber ahead. She left her bag on the ground, knowing she would be back.
Only her footsteps echoed between the statues of her forebearers. The fires lit her way, the flames of Mars.
Clutching the flashlight tighter, she stepped forward. The symbol of the Compact--the infinity curved around the disk carved with flames, the horns pointed down. Her hand rose to press against the surface.
Warm. The stones down here were always warm. Even through her armor she could feel the warmth of the stone of her prisons. Her domain. Though she knew it could not be, it was hard not to picture the very stone of the prisons, the true core of Themiscyra and the purpose behind the city's construction countless eons past, was responding to her as its born knight.
And yet the stone did respond. It moved under her touch, sinking back until it tripped the mechanism to move the great slab of rock. Light flickered out of the corner of her eye. Flames. Across her skin, curling and consuming. Glowing bright against her scars, the evidence of her city's faith and soul bound within her flesh. Danika blinked, and only dark flesh met her eye, before it turned. The door ahead opened wide, awaiting. The statues behind and beside her, watching. The air within was warm. Stale, untouched in countless years. Countless years no one had come to this place. How long since the last of the prisoners were taken out? Or left to die? Would she yet find skeletons somewhere within the depths of this prison system?
How long since the last member of the Compact stood here?
Her sandals scuffed the dust as she moved into the room, her flashlight illuminating the whole of the room for its small size. A domed room, arches high over head, she could see at the far wall where a table once stood. No... an altar, she realized, drawing closer. The thick slab was broken, crumbled through time. Or combat? The thought struck, but she couldn't be sure of its truth either way. Her light moved, lighting on the symbols of Themiscyra and the Compact. They adorned the walls, the pillars joining them with reliefs of flame and chains. As her light moved back to focus on the altar, she noticed at last the large slab on the wall above it.
Curious steps brought her ever closer.
Footsteps caught her ears and she turned back to the entrance, light searching.
Fire glinted on her arms.
Metal caught the light on her shoulders.
At her back, a figure moved, and once more she turned to the altar.
She stood before the altar, the incense she'd lit carrying drifting through the air. Her armor clinked and rustled as she moved, kneeling before the altar. The ring of Themiscyra caught the light of the flames around her, though it was out-shown by the way the gold of her chain reflected the light. She held the chain aloft, her head bent. Her scars seemed all the paler in the firelight, each proof she had survived despite the odds. Still claimed the chain, her mantle, despite any odds. How much longer she would continue to claim such triumphs, she did not know. No one did. Yet as her head was bowed over the chain, her Artifact of the Compact, she did not fear such a time. She was not the first knight of Themiscyra. She knew she would not yet be the last.
Danika stared solemnly at the broken altar, at the slab over it that cracked and had crumbled in places through the years. She could see the symbols of Themiscyra, of Kairatos, and Valhalla at the top. On one line. Together, equals. This altar, the original, was mirrored by the altar in the library. Yet this one... she could feel the age here. This was an altar, a shrine, far older than any other in Themiscyra, that she knew. This one was...
Spiritual. The original, the altar first constructed and consecrated by the first knight of Themiscyra to bare the chains. After she assisted them in slaying the beast and took up her chains, she built this place at the depths of her prisons. Not to hide her pride, but to honor this place. To honor the start, the core, the true heart of Themiscyra. A people and a city bound by chains. Chains of honor, chains of sisterhood, chains of the prisoners they guarded and kept.
Her eyes moved across the other symbols. She could not read them, and yet...
The names of the Compact, carved within the Martian heart stone eons past. Some were worn over time, cracked away and lost. Yet she knew of them. Her allies. Some, she even called as council when she was otherwise unsure of where to turn. She would need them again. Her eyes turned to the golden chains, spoken of in lore as the Chains of Judgement. Her grip tightened over the slender chain, and her eyes closed. Lips moved. A prayer. A wish.
An oath.
Danika placed her free hand against the broken surface of the altar. The symbols...
Kairatos of Mars. Valhalla of Jupiter.
Danika smiled. Equals. Partners. Brothers.
Andronicus of Uranus.
Sister. Friend. Companion.
Ashur of Uranus.
Lover. Companion. Shield.
More quartets, more names. So many more, and so many she could not read, could not locate due to the crumbled rock. Her eyes shut. She'd spoken to them of the Compact before--the other her had. She'd asked General Andronicus if she remembered their oath.
Metal caught her eye as she shifted some of the pieces of fallen rock, trying to see if she could recognize any of the other symbols. Taking the flashlight in her mouth, she moved more chunks of rock out of the way carefully. Beneath some of the fallen fragments, gold met her gaze. She damn near dropped the flashlight as her mouth went slack before she caught it in her hand. The other reached out, trembling, as she carefully picked up the golden chain. Time had allowed grime and dirt to collect on the surface, yet she could still see the precious metal glint. It was not as long as it had once been, she realized, seeing broken links at either end as she carefully wound the chain in her hands.
Tears welled, and Danika smiled, bowing her head to rest her forehead against the cold surface.
"I didn't think I'd see you again," she murmured to it, startled as the chain began to glow, emitting a soft heat. A laugh spilled forth, growing as she held tight to the golden chain. Chain of Judgement. A lie detector.
Collecting herself, she looked to the altar and back to the chain.
She'd asked Andronicus if she remembered their oath.
Stepping back, she knelt before the altar, pulse steady as she bent her head and raised the chain. Fire flashed on her skin. Armor at her sides and scars where she'd yet to claim them. She felt, in that brief moment, as if the statues at her back were alive. Watching. Waiting. Holding their own breaths as they awaited another to take up the mantle. Waited for another to carry the chains of Themiscyra.
"Blood calls to blood upon these objects we hence name Artifact. I swear my strength, wit, and skill to the blood we have spilled in the name of our People and Pride. My oath binds me, and we stand beneath the banner of this Compact, strongest for it."
Her voice rose as she spoke, echoing through the statues, through the prison cells, through the chasm of the prisons. A part of her felt, surely, the words echoed through the entire city itself.
Themiscyra was alive. However long that might yet be, she knew she was not the first knight.
Nor would she be the last.
[ Word Count: 2,037 Accompanying Images: { X } { X } { X } ]
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