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Sisters of the Moon
#31
The light was bright after their time in the bunker, the air fresh and invigorating. And yet Armande felt a warrior, striding forward, Valeriya and Rowan at each side. Odd, that. It felt so...alien.

The limousine disgorged two men, young with the air of impetuousness. It didn't take long to surmise that this was Rowen's brother.

Very well. He would watch. His presence in the city was dangerous. And their destiny lay in Siberia. He could feel the pull. He would not be caught up in family drama. Mentally, he took inventory of his stock.
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#32
In and out.

                In and out. In and out.

                Rowan kept breathing and focusing on being present in the moment. The shield of Air had formed larger than intended. Curious. Was it due to her close proximity to her blood kin and her spiritual kin? Rowan did not know, but she filed the thought away for later; something to meditate on once she was left alone.

                Aiden seemed to be shouting something from the other side of the shield, but Rowan could not hear due to the hardened Air that separated the two groups. Who was the young man with her brother? A new lover, no doubt. It was a shame that they would probably never meet. A chasm had opened between Aiden and her, one that he had started and one that she had widened. This chance meeting seemed to be the proverbial line in the sand, although he probably did not know that. Rowan had cast her lot with Armande. Aiden was meant for the Ascendancy…

                The Power pulsed behind Rowan’s shoulder, waiting to be used.

                “My apologies, Armande, Sister. This won’t take but a moment,” Rowan said to her compatriots, never taking her eyes off of her brother.

                In and out.

                In and out.

                Rowan altered the Weave that had formed the shield. The threads flickered and jumped as she guided them towards Aiden and the young man. The Power snaked around their two bodies, snapping their arms to their torsos and pulling their spines erect. With little effort, Rowan split the flows and instinctually cut Aiden off from the Source. She could not tell whether or not he held onto the Power, but there was no point in taking the chance.

                “Stay here,” Rowan murmured to Armande and Vale before striding towards Aiden and the boy. The pair were now floating a few inches off the ground, Rowan still holding tight to the Weaves. Tears began pooling at the corners of her one remaining eye, anguish and shock painted Aiden’s face; he finally noticed her deformity.

                “I tried to find you, baby brother,” Rowan said as she came to stand before the two of them, “But you did not want to be found. You needed me, I know you did, yet you still hid. You avoided your family- for what? Embarrassment? Shame? Pride?”

                “Rowan, what the fu-“ Aiden began before Rowan gagged him with more Air.

                “It doesn’t matter anymore. There are bigger forces at work in the world and it seems that I have been swept up in the current of Fate. You have too, I think,” Rowan said as tears fell freely from her one eye, “I have a new family now and I have sworn myself to their cause… I am sorry, Aiden, I really am, but this is how it has to be. Tell Mother and Father I love them… I don’t think I will be seeing any of you again.”

                Rowan used the Power to float the two men back into the limousine, tieing off the Weaves so that they would dissipate within the hour. With a quick movement, Rowan leaned in and kissed her brother on both of his cheeks and gave him one last smile before shutting the door and marching around to the front.

                Cooper sat in the driver’s seat, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looked up at her as she held onto a fake smile.

                “Take care of him Cooper. Do not let him come back here. You take him back home or where ever, I don’t care, just get him far away from here and make sure he does not try to find me again. He will be in grave danger if you do.”

                “Y-yes, Mistress, I-“

                “Goodbye, Cooper,” Rowan said sadly before spinning on her heel and marching back towards Armande and Vale, the sound of the limousine receding down the street.

                This is how it has to be, Rowan thought to herself, If either of us are to survive the coming war.

"The power Voodoo. Hoodoo? You do! Do what!?"
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#33
((Aiden and Sage continued at Machiavellianism.))

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#34
Her fingers curled deep into the sinew of Armande’s bicep, protectively clencing. Rowan’s splintering, even momentarily, stung like a slap to the face. Valeriya’s teeth were bared, snarling silent warning to those who intruded upon their triad. The magic of Rasputin was displayed, and Rowan swept aside their newly presented enemy. She looked to Regus to see what he would do next while the enemy was chased away.
The Eye of the Khylsty
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#35
Valeriya's hands dug into his arm and he reflexively pulled her close. He watched, eyes hooded, as Rowen dispatched the two men with the power. Her words, while opaque in one sense, were entirely clear in another.

She had thrown in her lot with them. For good. Perhaps long ago he would have felt a twinge. A moment of appreciation for the sacrifice. But to do so anymore felt...a violation of something sacred. To conceive of a universe where those green eyes still danced and laughed and were fierce. Where they didn't look up at him with accusation and hurt. With love and pain.

What happened will be what happens. The weight on his shoulders lay heavy. But finally he had the key. The end. With these two, his heart and soul on the right, an eye on the left, he would see it accomplished.

As the limousine drove away, he watched, thinking. It was time for them to leave. Moscow was dangerous. Brandon was looking for him. And despite his anti-surveillance gear, it would only be a matter of time.

And he felt the pull.

Back in the bunker, he went to the chests filled with things packed by Rasputin a century ago. Not the dresses or jewels or nick nacks. No. It was the Reindeer skin. He felt their eyes on him as he dramatically unfurled it. The Cyrillic characters covered portions of the map. It was no language he understood. But Valeriya had, when he vocalized the phonetic components.

He looked at her. "Are you ready, my heart?"
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#36
She stood over his shoulder as he rummaged through the Great One’s trunk. The obsession of his hunt: the skein of old. The markings were of Khylsty, but it was the Eye that showed her the true meaning. Her teeth bared in a smile hungry for victory. The towers of brown and green called. Through them, crimson and ash echoed like a song just out of hearing. She would not allow the Above newly rediscovered to fall to ruin. By the sheer strength of her will, she would not.
An eager nod agreed.
The Eye of the Khylsty
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#37
Neither Armande nor Rowan’s new-found sister said a word to her. Both had been more or less silent, even between each other. Rowan wasn’t quite sure how to take any of that; she still didn’t really know enough of either of them. Oh, on a spiritual level, yes, but the physical? That was a whole different mess of things. What was Vale’s tell? Did Armande snore? What made Vale happy? Did Armande drink or partake in other goodies? What did Vale want out of life, besides the obvious? Did Armande have a difficult childhood? All mysteries.

                Rowan’s stomach did a turn.

                There would be time enough in the future to come to fully know her compatriots. For now, they were to leave this dreary place. Armande and Vale turned to go back into the Bunker and Rowan followed in silence. It was for the best. Rowan did not feel much like talking.

                It was the damned vision’s fault, the one before she took her eye out. Two futures; one where she took her own eye, and another where her eye remained intact… Both vastly different timelines. She did not see every event, just enough flashes from each of the divergent lines to tell her that she needed to join Armande and Vale. Rowan Finnegan was destined to be the White Eye.

                Even now, those Visions haunt me… Those… Patterns of fate. It’s fleeting. Goddesses, I can barely recall a single detail- but that feeling- it just won’t shake off, Rowan thought to herself, brows furrowing. Vale and Armande were striding far ahead. Rowan had to pick up her steps to close the gap, lest they question why she dawdled.

                They came to some chests, Armande rifling through them as Vale looked on with a hungry smile. Was it for the contents of the chest, Armande, or something more? Rowan would bet anything that her sister was thinking of the future and their path to victory in the coming war. It was the one thing that kept floating at the edge of Rowan’s own mind and it was tied to the future she had chosen for the world.


                The more Rowan contemplated it, that vision shared with Vale and Armande, had to be a portent of war. What else could it be?


                War with the Ascendancy.

"The power Voodoo. Hoodoo? You do! Do what!?"
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#38
Continued here:

https://thefirstage.org/forums/thread-1198.html
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#39
<<posted in wrong thread>>
The Eye of the Khylsty
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