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Continued from here

Pressing the button to bring Scholomance with her to Scylla was a bit of a crapshoot. She had only once before brought a guest with her to the no-longer-barren planet, so she had no idea how the world would be seen from the eyes of a perfect stranger. Honestly, she couldn't even confirm that they were going to land where she wanted. As of late, her world had been dumping her closer and closer to the world pillar- which was, thankfully, within swimming distance of the White Temple. At least, she'd not seen any revived planetary predators, so she wouldn't have to worry about getting Scholomance killed.

Unless the magic was feeling sassy, and he couldn't swim.

Why hadn't she asked if he could swim? Well, float- s**t- he had one arm. Don't you dare, she thought desperately in the seconds between button-pressing and arrival. Don't you ******** dare-

The light was warm on her freezing skin, the sound of the water settling into her ears, a deceptively placid rhythm. She was still frozen against Scholomance, her lips pressed to his gently, the taste of nicotine, and- there was no ground under her feet. Scylla's eyes flew open as she started to fall, and she shoved the knight, hoping it would give him the chance to stay on the small section of 'ground' under his feet and not fall with her.

She, on the other hand, landed in the water, sinking down until her body was nestled in one of the kraken's fossilized suckers. Down here, under the water, she could almost feel the planet breathing, feel the push and pull of the magic that flowed through her calm, placid, confident.

Andromache! You're home early- we have a guest - make sure he is seen to - who is it - a babble of voices, each trying to be louder than the rest, asking question after question, and Jada replied, the air bubbling from her mouth under the water, hearing it blurp its way to the surface. "Scholomance."

Silence.

She shoved to the surface, breaking the water without a cough, shoving dripping curls out of her face. "Are you okay up there?"

Scholomance's voice filtered down to her, and Scylla scrambled out of the water, using her fossil for handholds. "That," she called up to him, as she dragged herself out of the sea, "Was the Kraken. Or a Kraken."Really, he wasn't taking this well at all. Maybe she should have warned him? It was lucky, or a miracle, that he was already settled on the arms which led to the catacombs below the White Temple. And not that far from the balcony. "I'll be up there in a second. You're right near the ledge. If you look up, you can see it."

Yeah, this wasn't going well at all. "The limbs are solid, I promise. Just get on the ledge, and you'll be able to get in through the hole in the wall. It's the catacombs, but no skeletons or anything. It'll just be darker in there." she scrambled over the Kraken's head, heels digging into the stone, scraping loudly. The tentacles were wide enough he should be able to make it with no problem, but worry hastened her in her climb.

Really, they could have been dropped at the front of the temple, like she had wanted. It would have been all impressive and s**t, and he would have been able to get a good view of the floating mountains, and the World Pillar rising high, and-

Sigh.

Practice got her to his side more quickly then when she had first arrived. Scylla knew the White Temple well, by now, and this fossil. "I have towels and supplies in the Hall," she told him as she scooted past him, to be able to aid him onto the ledge should he need it; water dripped behind her, the stone darkening briefly before it faded back to pale. Her curls were almost straight with water, hair slick against her fuku, and she turned to hold out her hand to him. Scylla's violet eyes were bright with excitement at being able to share her world. Hopefully, the visit wouldn't stay miserable for him.

"A rough landing, but I promised. Come with me, Scholomance?"

Oh, yes, this wasn't going well. Scholomance was rather wan as he surveyed her domain, so she tried to move somewhat carefully up the stalk, pausing every few steps to verify he still had good footing, and eventually to put up her dark curle in a knot at the nape of her neck. Wet and heavy, they were more a tribulation than an asset. It would give him something else to latch onto visually, too; and since she was apparently already a cocktease, she didn't even feel bad about it.

Finally they reached the top, the arms that led into the catacombs. The smell that had been there when she first came here was gone, and in its place was the smell of something clean and fresh, not stale. Salt and breeze, and she turned to ensure that Scholomance did not fall from the added pressure, skirt fluttering. His hand was held tightly, the missing finger not bothering her at all, and she gave him a warm, genuine smile, excitement gleaming in her eyes. He turned to gaze out, and she moved to stand next to him, wondering what he saw. "The World Pillar held up the sky. When the Great One first surfaced, he destroyed the land, and it flung into the sky like droplets of water. How, then, were the people to live? The first of the senshi went and prayed to the great one, begging, for his people. The Great One heard their lamentations, and he breathed into the sea. The coral grew, and the branches filled the sky, holding it high, so that the pieces flung there could not fall. Then he shared his power, so that those he had harmed in his unknowing, could be protected. So the senshi was born at the beginning, Priest and Guardian to the people."

At least not until Chaos had come.

"My planet is Earth," she corrected him gently, "But this is the source of my power." her world, but no more a planet. No one could live here without her, not yet. Perhaps, one day, if they were able to reclaim Earth and push away the Chaos... "I've never been to anyone else's world. I'd love to, but it just hasn't happened." she turned, gesturing him to look inwards.

The bier had been broken, and the catacombs ravaged, but the world healed in many ways. The auditorium of statues, three feet high and painted to do honor to the senshi whose ashes lay within them, seemed less of rubble, now. There were hundreds of them, sightless eyes unseeing, looking to the middle. Inside, Jada knew Andromache's body lay, waiting to be burnt and sealed away, until Jada would lie in her place. The ice that held her body preserved, had not melted with the ice of the World Pillar's base. Andromache remained unburied, honor undone.

"We're reincarnations," she told him after a moment. "As I walk through the halls, I get... memories. Sometimes related to something I am thinking about, sometimes to the room I am in." she moved into the room, grabbing up a blanket that had been there and tossing it over the open bier. "The lid is heavy. I don't come down here often, so I've left it open. I wouldn't look, if you're bothered." she didn't need him freaking out about Andromache's corpse. "This is the tomb. To do honor to the previous holders of my power. We can get out from here, to someplace a bit less morbid. The next room is full of black coral statues, and then we'll be in the great hall."

"It took me a while to piece it together," she told him with a wry smile. "The World Pillar was the coral, yes. There used to be land masses floating in the sky, but most of those are still... well. You'll see if we can get to the front of the temple." The land hovered, but precious few pieces had made it back into the sky fully. That aspect repaired itself slower than others, but Scylla was still infinitely better off than when she began. "As for the Great One," she said after a moment, "I... don't think so. I mean, he was a Kraken, but even a god-figure can't live for that long. And there were many of them. In fact, she gave some to other worlds, and to wonders, as symbols of alliance."

She had let go of his hand as they walked, but he still moved towards her now, and she met him in front of the sarcophagus, intending to turn him away. But Scholomance moved past her, and she said not a word except to move into his empty side, staring down at the body beneath the ice. "She would have been no more than 36. Half of her life was spent fighting." Taking his hand again, Scylla gave it a squeeze as she led him into the next room, guiding him carefully underneath the crossed spears of the guardians. Row upon row of black coral, shapes still alien to her eyes, but growing familiar, lay ahead, but she turned to allow Scholomance to see.

"Briseis and Ariadne," she told him. "Two of Andromache's wives. Chosen for their ferocity in combat, as her most trusted arms. Their statues would have been moved to join the rest of the armies, once I buried her. And my wives would have been carved to take their places on my death." their proportions were exaggerated, their bodies stocky in a way Andromache had not been. And still on the led him, past the relief of the mermaid being eaten that so bothered her, and past the rows of clay warriors. Large-eyed and aquiline-nosed, the statues glittered with jewelry, the Messian Gem necklaces they had worn in life glittering about their coral throats like water drops.

Finally they reached the door that led to the temple proper, and she dropped his hand to posh it open, the coral and stone scraping loudly together. White stone glared at them in the drifting sun, and the drapes she had brought to replace the ragged cloths that had been hanging, billowed in the gentle breeze, gauzy and pale. "Are you afraid of heights?" she asked him curiously. "So many questions I should have asked before I grabbed you." The hall was massive, easily 20 feet tall and half that again in width, with carved Ionic columns supporting a painted roof. At the end, a chair, carved to look the part of the kraken, where Scylla had been seated.

Doors lined the walls near the chair, painted and gilded, but the temple was open to the elements. This was no fortress in design- not this room, at least.

She grinned, squeezing his hand in acknowledgement. "I'm sure she didn't send them everywhere. The main exports, though, were our sea life, our warriors, and the Messian Gems. We had an amazing assortment of water creatures. I wish I could remember them all. Most of them bioluminescent, which made things easy for the hunters. but the ecosystem was balanced.... somehow." It'd never fit in the lake. If the Kraken would have leveled his wonder with a sweep of the arm, she was very curious as to what it looked like. She'd always imagined them as at least the size of the Temple.

"Andromache is the one in the tomb," Scylla confirmed easily. "And no, marriage wasn't the same as ours. Wives and Husbands had different roles, regardless of gender. A man could be a wife, a woman a husband. Wives cared for the home, and while they could fight, their job was much like a wife's job. It wasn't the term for it, but I don't really speak that, and it's translated itself to terms I do understand. The senshi was always a husband, in terms of roles. It was our job to fight. We were not given the luxury of caring for a home. There were always at least eight arms , eight bodyguards for the Senshi that also served in the role of wife." It was confusing. "Not lover, though. Andromache had 15 wives, and all of them had their own lovers. But Andromache claimed their children as hers, and so protected her spouses, and her lineage. She had somewhere around forty claimed children, but only gave birth to one."

The fact he noticed the necklaces pleased her, and she nodded. "Messian Gems." she closed her eyes, trying to remember what she had learned about them. She held up the necklace she'd taken from Andromache's tomb, holding it up so he could see the watery glow swirling within. "Not really turquoise. Having a necklace made you an adult. The more gems you had, the more you had braved the World Pillar, and the more you proved yourself. You kept the gems of those you killed, you gave them to lovers, you kept them to improve your standing. It wasn't easy to get them, and farming them for export was... a risky business."

If he wasn't afraid of heights... she guided him towards the window, pushing aside one of the gauzy curtains so he could see her planet. The White Temple was high on the cliff, and from here he would be able to see the mountains hovering in the air, some rising, others still scraping the dirt. The ocean, while still low, beat against the ruins of a beach, and the dock below was full of decrepit boats. The village below, still, silent. Coral and plants and life forming, but still held in check. With more time, perhaps."It's more beautiful at night."

Puffing out a sigh, she smiled. "I was worried you couldn't," she said honestly. "That's why I shoved you away. When I realized I was falling, I didn't want you to fall with me. Your uniform is a bit heavy for me to try and save you if the water caught you."

He seemed surprised by Scylla having an actual ecosystem, and Jada sprang on the opportunity to share more about the world this had been like. "Some. There are other fossils that are smaller. And we had regular fish as well. The Kraken was just... I suppose an apex predator? They had one real enemy, and they usually killed each other, thus feeding a lot of the smaller ones. There are a few fairly well-preserved smaller fish, but a lot of the animal life on Scylla is dead, unless it is further out than I've explored."

She had an awfully big house, Scholomance said, and Scylla laughed. "You're standing in her house," she told him firmly. "This is where the senshi lived, where they held council with the chieftains, and tried to keep peace. This is where we housed the dignitaries from other worlds. I remember learning the names of some of them- Velis Stavrou, Terzi Vlahos, Zachariel Agnastas, Elias Karalis, Athan Galatas, Andromache Zografos... and now me." Scholomance said she had an awfully big house, but he had yet to see the scope of the Temple. It was, indeed, a big house.

"As a warrior you could have done any number of things. Many chose to be mercenaries, and leave the planet. Others tried to eke out a living in the seas, some joined the Nephelai farming the skies. There were many invaders. Our stones are very precious, and our people were possibly considered somewhat... primitive. We had little technology, for what was the use? Our predators kept greatness in check, and we had little in the way of natural resources to work with. But there were lovely enough women, and precious gems, and oddities to plunder." she looked out the window, eyes distant, seeing something that he could not.

"The average Scyllan was a warrior," she said after a moment. "Learning to use weapons as soon as they were able to stand. Fertile, but... only one in every six born made it to adulthood. Those who survived were the ones who could fight, or who were the best protected for their beauty, or a skill they offered. Land was not owned, it was claimed. Everything here was taken." she turned to look at him, tilting her head and considering as she leaned against the window, letting the light heat her shoulders and dry her sopping hair. "You keep the possessions of those you kill. You take what you want, and you keep it. That is what you did as a warrior of Scylla."

She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. He had been a warrior. The father of her son. She could remember nothing of him but the size of his hands, strong and sure. Their child had been born in this temple, grown up playing along its walls. She could feel him, in the room that had been Andromache's, something lurking in the edges, haunting.

"I complain about free tea when it tastes like dishwater," she told Scholomance, grinning, eyes still closed. "As long as you don't tell me you've peed in the water, I'll try and forgive you. I've been at a beach, before. I still don't like to think about what's in it. Like sharks, and angry jellyfish."

The sun was warm, and her damp fuku was drying in the bright sunlight. Her hair was another story, and she'd probably be a bit frizzy later. Still, the moment was peaceful enough. It was still, and there was only the sound of the breeze whistling through the temple, the waves crashing on the shore, and breathing. She hadn't realized fully how tense she was, that Scholomance could have set up the trap for her and not given her the courtesy of a heads up. How her muscles had been ready to shake from cold, and her skin numbed. But here, on Scylla, she could relax; the Negaverse could not reach her, and her only enemies were herself, and the Order signature nearby.

She laughed in delight as he apparently forgave her for her startled rejection enough to crack a joke, however morbid. "I have the feeling he would greet me coming in a second time in one night just to say hello with a mouthful of lead. And let's be honest here, I've never eaten lead, nor do I want to. Other people can keep the guns, I'll stick to pepper-spray and a taser. I'm dangerous enough without an actual weapon."

You'll thank me later, Scholomance said, and there was a soft rippling noise. Scylla jerked her head up, to watch her curtain fluttering down. She made a quiet noise of protest, as he threw the curtain to the ground, but then the knight grabbed her arm in his four-fingered grip, and her pulse jumped in her throat. The knight pulled her towards him, and the memory hit her like a freight train, stealing her breath away as he pinned her easily. Her bare back scraped against the wall, and she barely noticed, sighing out, and inhaling the past.



Two fingers stroked up her throat and Scylla shuddered at the touch, and it wasn't with revulsion. Her pulse tore through her, the memory riding her as much as any action Scholomance was taking. Her blood thrummed with the memory of two strong hands on her, the sound of a vase shattering, echoing through the temple, footsteps hurrying away. Memory, not real. The body in front of her was narrow, and four fingers rested on her, sliding down her jawline, not roughly holding her waist. The height was wrong, the weight was wrong, the eyes were... wrong.

"I-" her voice cracked as she tried to clear away the fog of the past in her mind. She'd said no. Don't you know that nice girls don't put out until at least the third date? Anything to hide from her inherent shame that she might like it.

She barely knew Scholomance.

She'd never been a casual girl.

They were safe here, not in a cold, slightly dingy laundromat.

And she was... So. ********. Lonely.

"Normally," she told him, and her voice shook with it, "You'd have to defeat me in combat. Unfortunately, I feel I'd have the advantage here. Do you have a counter-challenge? Maybe you could try kissing me into submission before groping me?"

Hopefully, she didn't sound too hopeful.

Scylla's body shivered as the memory lurked around the edges of her form, ghost hands and real hands, and the sound of two oceans in her ears. The sound of... hooves? Laughter. Revelry. Weapons clashing, and voices- a lesson being taught? She leaned her head back against the wall, reveling in the ghostly feel of contact, along with the real. Jada had dated, but when was the last time she had let anyone close? When was the last time she'd crawled out of her self-imposed prison for true contact? She hadn't even really dated since the nightmares of that Dystopian Future had begun, the memories and horrors keeping her up, staring into the darkness.



The core of her was as frozen as Andromache's body, waiting for someone to come and melt the ice and make her feel. Broken hearts and broken romantic promises had only served to harden Jada's core; lovers who had wanted her for her money or the opportunities that she could offer had made her reluctant, and the memory of how much she had been able to love once, as Andromache, and how much it had hurt that Andromache, that Jada, had not been the only one... For none of them. No one. Scylla was not meant for contact, or affections. Scylla was for duty, and survival.



Jada inhaled, a ragged choking sound, as Scholomance removed his hand from her and cut off the memories as much as he cut off the warmth. Damn, he said, and she closed her eyes, pressing her head back against the stone, feeling the thump and not even wincing at the flash of pain. Why were so many of the memories she gathered so ******** sad? Why was everything so <********> sad? There had been something happy, once, she knew it; there had been more to this life that she could barely remember than... broken promises, broken hearts, slavery, blood, tears, and screams.

Where was the reset button that Jada could push on her life to make those decisions she had made, to make the people she had loved in futility, to make the tragedy and the pain, to make everything mean...

Nothing.

If it could give her real, tangible connections that weren't duty or greed, she'd give up almost anything. To have someone beside her who cared for Jada.

But there wasn't a button that could fix mistakes she had made, or doors that she had closed on herself. There wasn't a switch that could reverse the last 5 years of her life, like when the nightmares had ended. She could only shove the doors that barred her way open and out; make new mistakes and pray for the best. She'd used to find being Scylla freeing, using the glamour to do things she never would as Jada. To crack bad jokes, and to risk parts of herself for others that a socialite should never have needed to consider.

Then she had let it become a prison, and fled it, and everything else. She'd thrown it away, and it hadn't paid off.

She'd lost Hope, and in losing her, found it. Found the strength to clean up her body, though her heart was left in war-torn shambles, buried in a tiny grave in Rome. Found the will to take on her responsibilities to the twins her mother had left to her care, to fight and to scrap and to scrape her way. But she was still too afraid to trust herself.

Even knowing he was a danger, and even with what he'd said to her when she refused his first advances, Scholomance was the first person to even attempt to broach that longing, lonely part of her in years. Perhaps her walls were just coming down at last; perhaps she had just never noticed it before. Maybe it was because they were here, and she was finally faced with what her life could be like, if she allowed herself to sink to a helpless devotion for something that could never be.


And it wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want her life to end cold, frozen, lonely, and untouched by something soft and genuine.

Maybe just acknowledging that was a start.

She pushed off the wall, her entire body shaking, and followed the sound of Scholomance's dry chuckle. "What's so funny?" she inquired, moving around in front of him, her voice trembling along with her body, and she reached out for the chair, to grip it, to hold herself steady. Used her other shaking hand to guide his four fingers to the hollow of her throat, pressing his fingers against the anxiously fluttering pulse. "Kiss me," she told him.

The worst that could come from a kiss was regret, right?