TRINITY RISING


Summary: After an exhausting day, Tiffany returns home for a good night's sleep. The next morning, she realizes what that foreboding feeling she'd had the day before was. As she agonizes over this terrible devlopment in the history of Tyria, she wonders if life will ever be the same. After she Beorn calms her down, she heads out to the Vigil Keep to see what General Almorra wanted of her. As expected, she is offered the duty of mentoring Deborah… but she declines, and tells General Almorra to ask if Forgal can do it. Forgal, wondering why Tiffany would do such a thing, asks why. Beorn prompts Tiffany with an idea, and, after talking it over with Fiona, she decides to tell Forgal about the fact that she and Tiffany know the future. And Forgal didn't ask nearly as many questions as Tiffany had thought he would. Tiffany has a nightmare, and lies awake for hours. On Wednesday, she encounters somebody she technically doesn't know…


Chapter seven: Mysterious Implications


Author's Notes:

Quite a curious chapter name last chapter, hm? It'll be oh-so-juicily resolved in this one. Mwahaha!

Well, that was a dose of reality. I was just looking at chapter three of Tyria's Real (Tangwen, you know why ;) and now you also know what I was writing then) and I realized how much easier life/writing was back then… wow. Doing hearts with Mat and Ayla… its humbling, how far I've come since then…

Okay, here's the story now:


That night, Tiffany is quite tired. After Destiny's Edge had taken down Blightghast, they turned off the watchtowers. While they waited for the ship to come and pick them up, Zojja inspected Big Zojja to find out what is salvagable. Luckily, the most important parts are - the powerstone laurel to operate it, most especially. On the other hand, the corrosive acid-spit from the dragon champion had eroded away most of the stone head capping the golem, and it is barely recognizable as Zojja's face any more.

Eir shrugs and says she can always carve another, but they all seem slightly forlorn at this turn of events.

Zojja decides that most of the pieces are not worth salvaging, given how easy and cheap it is to build golems these days, and she can always build the next one from scrap.

After they had returned to Lion's Arch, they alert the proper authorities that Blightghast is dead and Claw Island is free, and then, as the sun is already setting, Tiffany and Fiona had returned home.

As Tiffany drops off to sleep, something alarming occurs to her, but she is too tired and sleepy to analyze the implications of this, and she falls asleep before remembering why the day's events are a terrible tragedy.


She wakes up the next morning and, by force of habit, runs over what she has to do today. She comes up empty - oh right, she isn't with the charr anymore, she's not doing something morning to night anymore.

She climbs out of bed and is downstairs having breakfast before she recalls the events of yesterday - Destiny's Edge had killed Blightghast the Plaguebringer. A sudden chill runs down her spine.

The Pact's first victory has been thwarted. Worse, there is no pressing reason to form the Pact in the first place - everything is back to normal, and 'normal' is not conductive to things suddenly changing in regards to the different Orders' attitude toward each other.

Tiffany jumps up, her face white, then sits back down. There is nothing she can do. The Pact won't happen. There is no Blightghast to insert fear into the lives of anyone and everyone, to be the catalyst for the forming of the Pact. It won't be happening. The Pact will not happen. The Orders will remain alienated… there is nothing that Tiffany can do.

"Tiffany? What's the matter?" Fiona asks.

"The Pact…" Tiffany mutters in shock. "It's not… Blightghast is dead. It was supposed to be the Pact that killed it, not Destiny's Edge."

Fiona frowns. "But how does that change…?"

Tiffany sighs. "Because now, there is no motivation to form the Pact. Blightghast was a threat that none of the Orders could handle on their own. Now that it's dead…" she trails off meaningfully.

Fiona frowns. "But Blightghast is dead. Destiny's Edge can kill Zhaitan, too, just as easily."

"But think of the things that that method won't accomplish," Tiffany snaps back. "Destiny's Edge killing dragons is all well and good - but do you think they'll know how or be able to kill Mordremoth without knowing what we know? Not to mention the fact that if Destiny's Edge kills Zhaitan, Orr won't be cleansed. I'm not holding it against Destiny's Edge that they failed to kill Kralkatorrik… but we know what method works to kill Zhaitan. We know how to do it and avoid as much death as possible. Can Destiny's Edge even get far enough into Orr to confront Zhaitan without the Pact clearing the way?"

Fiona remains silent, but Tiffany can see that she understands.

"What's all this babbling, girls?" Petra asks, looking over at them.

Tiffany just glances at Fiona, and makes up an excuse most likely to drive Petra away - or insane, one of the two. "You almost cursed us with the Curse," she points out. "You said 'what.'"

Petra's mouth sags open. "Wha - but - you're making the - ugh!" She turns away, groaning in pure frustration.

Tiffany scowls. She is in a very depressed mood. The Pact had been her life. It had been the thing she cared most about, what she'd been working toward for the last six months that she had been in Tyria. The Pact is more than a means to an end… it is her passion. Was. It will no longer be - no longer have a chance of being.

Tiffany hadn't known she felt this strongly about the Pact - she'd always thought that she felt this strongly about it because it was a stepping-stone to killing Zhaitan (which is a stepping-stone to killed Mordremoth and not having worry about it anymore). But now that she realizes it wont' happen, she feels a pang of loss as if she'd lost something that she'd had since childhood - like the stuffed teddy bear that she never really used much when she got older, but had always carried sentimental value.

Tiffany almost can't believe that the Pact won't happen. It had been a base fact that the Pact would happen, she'd never doubted it. But now… she'd seen Destiny's Edge kill Blightghast with her own two eyes, and she knows the hard facts and logic as well or better than most people.

Beorn sends her comfort. He knows how much the Pact had meant to her, how much she'd worked, since coming to Tyria, with its formation as one of her ultimate goals. Killing the Elder Dragons, Tiffany realizes now that she thinks about it, is almost secondary to the Pact… and now it won't happen, trashing her hopes of killing the Elder Dragons right along with it.

Tiffany's sense of horror does not diminish, however, as she tries to picture a world without the Pact. Without a hope for something more. Without a goal bigger than her current occupation - the Vigil, for example - she doesn't know what to do. She is fully aware that the Vigil by itself can't do anything, and anything she does as a member of that organization will lose its flavor and sense of importance, because it won't help anything and the Vigil will never become a part of the Pact. Killing the dragons… it might happen without the Pact. Maybe. Possibly, though it is unlikely.

But killing the Elder Dragons… while that is a high priority of hers, the Pact in and of itself had been a part of her. It had personified her sense of order and unity, her desire to work together for the benefit of all, her wish that the Orders would stop bickering and work together, and her belief that all the parts are necessary to achieve greatness, success and finally victory over the evil threatening Tyria. The Pact had filled her with life and determination, and now…

Now it is gone. It technically never was, and that makes it worse. This was the goal toward which she had been striving for the last six months, and it fails before it even gets a chance to begin. She couldn't have hastened the time - Zhaitan would send Blightghast when it would - so she'd spent it pulling Destiny's Edge together, another goal that she highly valued. Her innate sense of harmony loves seeing them work together - Edge of Destiny had given her a warm glow inside - and it had foiled everything.

Because of her, Tiffany, the Pact will never be.

Beorn's attempts to soothe her fall on deaf ears - or frayed emotions - and Tiffany bolts upstairs, as if to get away from the realization that the Pact can never form, that the Orders will never come together.

Tears spring to her eyes as she enters her room. She locks the door - she would rather not be disturbed at the moment, even by Fiona - and curls up on her bed, shaking with repressed sobs.

Beorn clambers on to the bed after her and lies down beside her. Tiffany rolls into the warm furriness of his side, feeling the care and devotion he feels for her through the link, and finally lets herself cry.

A minute later, the doorknob rattles gently, but whoever it is - likely Fiona - turns and leaves upon finding it locked.

Tiffany clings to Beorn as she realizes how alone she feels without the Pact… without much of a motivation for anything at all. How can she work toward something like killing the Elder Dragons without the Pact?

And now it is gone. That aura of unity and understanding and oneness… the knowledge that she is working together with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other people who all want the same thing, who have come together despite their differences, that had been the soul of the Pact. Nothing else quite represents this…

And the Pact will never happen. All the three Orders, none of the members, all working toward the greater goal of the Elder Dragons' defeat, will never know this sense of power, this knowledge that they can do something.

Beorn just sends her his care and concern and understanding, and after a while, Tiffany calms down. She would have cried herself to sleep if it hadn't been early morning, but as it is she just centers herself and accepts the truth. She doesn't really accept it - she just gives her subconscious the task of worrying about it for now - but she has to go to the Vigil Keep like General Almorra had told her the other day.

She finds Fiona not far down the hall, looking concerned. "Tiffany, Deborah was wondering why you ran off like that. I thought it might be a good time to tell her about the fact that we know the future, but I was going to wait to ask you. She left a while ago, saying she had some stuff to attend to, but what do you think?"

Tiffany shakes her head slowly. "N-no, I don't think so. There's no need to tell her, and it'll just… it won't do anything. See what I mean?"

Fiona nods reluctantly. "I just… I don't like the feeling that we're keeping stuff from her."

"I don't like it either," Tiffany grimaces, "but it just doesn't… doesn't feel right, you know?"

Fiona nods. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We can wait - we've waited this long."

Tiffany sighs. "Alright, I have to get to the Keep. What're you gonna be doing?"

Fiona shrugs. "I thought I'd go visit Logan, you know, to congratulate him on his victory."

Tiffany's mouth twists in a wry smile. "Right. Won't do to not drop by, you know. Depending on what Almorra wants, I might do the same later."

Fiona nods. "See you then."


"Warmaster Tiffany, reporting, General Almorra," Tiffany salutes. She finds it hard to keep the consternation off her face - all the Vigil around her, thinking they can defeat an Elder Dragon, at the same time as utterly despising the other Orders… a pit of despair has settled in her stomach. Only Beorn's odd brand of comfort, specialized to Tiffany, keeps her focused on the General in front of her.

"At ease, Warmaster," the General replies with an amused glint in her eye. "I believe you know why you are here?"

Tiffany manages a small smile, unaware that it comes out more like a grimace. "I believe my sister Deborah has joined the Vigil, General. Something to do with her, I assume?"

General Almorra nods. "Yes, Warmaster. I wanted to give you the first chance to mentor her, to take charge of her training. Given her prior experience on the battlefield, I believe she just needs to be shown how the Vigil operates."

Tiffany really doesn't feel like it. She has no motivation - the Pact isn't coming. She knows it is important, that there is a chance of battling the Elder Dragons… but she just feels demotivated and lackluster about it. And Deborah deserves to have somebody that will train her mercilessly, as she had been. And it's distressing to her to be around the Vigil without the other Orders. It hadn't bothered her before - knowing that she was working toward their union - but it does now. And, in a corner of her mind, she feels the slightest bit resentful that the organization Deborah had joined was the Vigil, not the Pact.

But Tiffany knows that if she declines this, General Almorra will ask why. "I don't…" she pauses, trying to find a way to phrase her response. There are many excuses she could use - isn't it a bit odd for the recruit's sister to train her, Tiffany might not be completely fair, or maybe that she isn't sure of her capabilities to the task, or… Tiffany shakes her head. "I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask, General," she says carefully. "Maybe Forgal could do it? He trained me really well."

General Almorra frowns deeply this time, but nods. "Very well, Warmaster. You are dismissed."


Forgal frowns. "Wasn't Tiffany going to mentor Deborah?"

General Almorra sighs. "I gave her first choice, but she declined and directed me to you. She seemed slightly uneasy, as well, even before that. I know you'll check in on her, Forgal, but be careful."

"Of course I will," Forgal says instantly. "Was she acting normal, aside from not taking the task?"

Almorra frowns. "She seemed troubled by something, and she wasn't nearly as cheerful as she normally is."

"I'll look into it, General," Forgal promises. "For now, what are my directions concerning Recruit Deborah?"

Later, Forgal heads to the tavern, looking for his friend. She is sitting at a table on the bottom floor of the tavern, looking morose. "Are you alright, Tiffany? General Almorra told me you declined to teach Deborah the Vigil methods - I know you were really looking forward to that."

Tiffany sighs, as if in frustration. "I'm fine, Forgal." She sounds tired. "I just thought you could do a better job of it than me."

"She doesn't need any training fighting," Forgal says flatly, seeing through her evasion instantly. "There's nothing I can tell her about the workings of the Vigil that you can't. I thought you'd leap at the chance to tell her all about it."

Tiffany sighs, and then her eyebrows jump up as if in surprise, but it only lasts a moment. Forgal knows Beorn just told her something, and he feels a pang of grief for Blackwing and anger at Asvor, and a touch of - envy, maybe? - for Tiffany's healthy bond and companion. That emotion is quickly replaced by sincere happiness for Tiffany - she has never had to endure the devastation that death brings… death either of her companion, or anyone close to her. He fervently hopes that she never has the chance to experience either.

"I need to speak to Fiona for a moment," the young woman tells him, before trudging upstairs. Forgal can't help but note that the ever-present spring in her step is gone.

After a minute, Tiffany comes down again. "Come upstairs, Forgal."

Forgal follows Tiffany upstairs with more than a hint of curiosity.

"Alright, so…" Tiffany frowns thoughtfully - the expression she uses when she is trying to figure out how to say something.

Fiona speaks up in her place. "You know how me and Tiffany sometimes talk in a secret language?"

Forgal nods warily. "I thought it was Whispers talk?" The fact that his two friends are members of the Order doesn't bother him much anymore. He is still wary, suspicious, and unabashedly distrustful of the Order as a whole, but he has realized that Tiffany and Fiona are two of them that are not anything like the rest. He knows that he will never just trust them as a group, but Tiffany and Fiona are okay… as well as anyone they tell him can be trusted, like Vriré (although she is a work in progress and he won't trust her anytime soon).

"No, nothing like that at all." Fiona shakes her head. "If the Order of Whispers ever found out about this, we'd be… probably… I don't know. Something terrible, anyway. Oh, Tiffany, just in case these things are recorders…" Fiona flicks her wrist, and a small device attached to her forearm reveals itself, like a mesmer illusion coming undone. Forgal's eyes widen. Those things could have been recording anything they ever heard?

"Mine won't turn off," Tiffany tells her, fiddling with her own.

"I told you, Tiffany, the Initiate-level ones don't turn off," Fiona sighs. "Just take it off and hide it somewhere."

"It doesn't feel secure," Tiffany grumbles, but she takes it off and leaves the room.

"What are those things?" Forgal asks warily.

"They're called Access Keys, or A-Key for short," Fiona explains. "They're our pass into the Order's headquarters, files, everything. They're upgraded depending on your rank, and some things are restricted to certain levels. For example, Asvor's file was restricted to Agent-level, so neither me nor Tiffany could access it. Somebody - probably Vriré - had specially cleared us to see your file, though. I was recently promoted to Agent, and I have a lot more control and trust from the Order as a result, apparently. But I don't know what all it can do - I'm sure very few within the Order do."

Forgal frowns. "That sounds… intrusive."

Fiona sighs. "I know. It bothers me too, but once Tiffany gets around to being promoted to Agent we can turn them off."

"You're sure it isn't just a pretense to lull you into a false sense of security?" Forgal asks.

Fiona smiles. "Good thinking. But no - I don't think the Order can afford to alienate its members that way. It has stood for centuries, I doubt they did that on a foundation of distrust amongst themselves… on the other hand, I also doubt they've had members loyal to something else, either. Like us."

Then, Tiffany comes back. "So, Forgal, you ready to hear our secret?"

The norn nods.

"Alright," Tiffany says, taking a deep breath. "So, the secret language is really simple, but its just one of our methods for keeping our secret. I'm afraid if we tell you our whole secret you'll go crazy, so we'll tell you the most relevant part. If and when you think you're ready for the rest of it, just tell us, okay? I hate keeping secrets from my friends."

Forgal nods. "So why don't you want to mentor Deborah?" he prompts.

"We'll get to that. So, me and Tiffany know the future. Well, what it would have been if we didn't change stuff."

Forgal frowns, not comprehending. His friends - Tiffany and Fiona - know the future? "How?" he asks.

Tiffany and Fiona grimace at each other. "That's the other secret," Tiffany says. "I promise you, I'd tell you if I could, but its even crazier than knowing the future."

Forgal nods slowly. "I see… So what sorts of things have you changed?"

"Destiny's Edge, mostly," Fiona tells him. Tiffany grimaces. "Before - in the knowledge from the future - by this point, they hadn't fixed their problems in the slightest. It's one of the more major changes."

Forgal frowns. "So, wouldn't you know that if you told me you joined the Order of Whispers, I'd…" he pauses. He is not proud of what he had done. "…go crazy?"

"No, we never joined the Order in that timeline," Fiona tells him. Forgal blinks. So they'd joined it to - what - be able to influence things with their knowledge a bit more? But then why hadn't they told the Order?

"Everything about it is new," Tiffany informs him. "On the other hand, we know a few odd things about you - like how you died in this alternate timeline."

Forgal is instantly interested. "How did that happen?" he asks.

"Claw Island. Talon - " Tiffany spat the name, " - didn't let us light the watchtowers for another ten minutes, and by then it was really bad. You sacrificed yourself to hold them off so we could get away."

"Oh," Forgal says slowly. "So… that's why you were so frantic the whole time? And so harsh with Commander Talon? You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was," Tiffany sighs. "You're my friend."

Forgal nods, digesting this information. "So… what does this have to do with why you don't want to mentor Deborah? Will it, like, mess up something in the future?"

"No." Tiffany shakes her head morosely. "It's because Destiny's Edge killed Blightghast."

Forgal frowns. "That's a bad thing?"

"It is, if you know the future," Fiona inserts.

"Originally," Tiffany says, "Destiny's Edge were scattered to the four winds. The Vigil had no hope of defeating Blightghast on their own, so I went with Trahearne to find some extra people to help. After a meeting with the Pale Tree and a warning that Risen were coming in force to the Vigil Keep, we went there and repulsed the siege. Then, realizing that the Vigil had no hope of doing anything by itself - there were no dragon champions in that assault, and we barely pulled through - I suggested an alliance of the three Orders. Warmaster Efut was grouchy about it, but General Almorra said I could set up a meeting, if I could."

Forgal blinks, a few pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "And I was dead, so you had no way of knowing my opinion about the Order of Whispers."

"Yeah, we never knew anything about that," Tiffany nods. "Anyway," she continues, I managed to set up a meeting, and we convinced them to work together. Then, General Almorra insisted that, since the Orders have never had any hope of working together, somebody had to lead them. Gixx said that it had to be somebody that hadn't joined an Order yet, or there'd be favoritism and who knows what else."

Forgal nods. "That makes a great deal of sense."

"Yes, and now I'm going to let you guess who they picked," Tiffany smirks. Her eyes are sad, though.

Forgal thinks for a moment. If it can't be anyone from any of the Orders… who is dedicated to fighting the Elder Dragons like that? Destiny's Edge, Tiffany had said they'd been fractured… they're going after Zhaitan… "Trahearne."

"Got it in one," Fiona nods.

"But where were you in all of this?" Forgal asks the mesmer.

"She… kind of didn't exist," Tiffany explains. "That has to do with our other secret that we can't tell just yet."

Forgal grimaces. What in Tyria can this other secret be?

"So, anyway," Fiona tells him, "Trahearne led this union of the Orders - they called it the Pact - against Blightghast, and they defeated Blightghast. Then, everybody started figuring out how the Pact is going to work - since now they're all going to march against Zhaitan in a counterattack."

"Long story short," Tiffany interrupts, "we end up killing Zhaitan alongside a newly-reformed Destiny's Edge."

"Wait, what?" Forgal asks, and blinks a few times. "You killed Zhaitan? An Elder Dragon?"

"Yep," Tiffany says proudly, but with a touch of sorrow. "The Pact is awesome. We never could have done it without a full union of the Orders."

"It's possible to kill them?" Forgal asks excitedly. "Nobody was ever quite sure it was possible, but we all were going to do our best. It's actually possible?"

Tiffany nods.

"That's awesome," Forgal breaths. "How could you be depressed over that?"

"Destiny's Edge killed Blightghast," Tiffany repeats sadly. "Like I said, killing Blightghast was the Pact's first victory. It cemented the idea that the Orders can work together, not to mention being the catalyst for the Orders coming together in the first place. Now…" she trails off meaningfully.

"Oh," Forgal frowns. "But we know they can be defeated," he points out.

Tiffany shakes her head. "I'm afraid it's near impossible without the Pact," she says somberly. "And I can't just suggest it out of thin air. We had to convince them - we need a present, common enemy to show them they have to work together. At the moment, everything is as it is normally, they'll never work together."

Forgal frowns. "You're right. So you're depressed because this union of the Orders won't come together, and so your future knowledge is falling apart?"

"No, no, no!" Tiffany exclaims, frustrated. "Alright, maybe you don't understand. The Pact was my life, Forgal. It's a part of me. I don't know how to explain. Ever since I… knew these memories, I've been working toward the Pact. That its no longer going to happen devastates me. I'm not sad that I can't depend on my future knowledge, I'm sad because the Pact can't happen, and… it was my everything. My family."

"Oh." Forgal knows what she means, in a vague sort of way.

"It's hopeless," Tiffany continues. "It won't happen. It can't happen - Blightghast is dead. All this I've been working toward for nearly six months, and in my memories of the future, I… the Pact was the personification of many of my desires. Or maybe I was the personification of the Pact's foundational principles."

Forgal nods. "I understand." But he didn't, not really. He knew enough to know that he couldn't imagine what Tiffany must be feeling. "And Petra and Deborah and Andrew - nobody knows this?" Forgal asks.

"Nobody knows," Fiona confirms.

"Well, I… I'll have to think about this," Forgal says slowly. "Thank you for trusting me with this." With how little he'd trusted them, this is a gigantic sign of how much they trust him… and a definite point in their favor for never second-guessing their motives in regards to himself.

Tiffany smiles thinly. "I was always going to tell you. I don't like keeping secrets from my friends. You think about it, and tell me or Fiona if you have any more questions."


That night, Tiffany has nothing to distract her from thinking about the Pact anymore. Not even thinking about how they'd finally told someone that they knew the future could crowd it out for long.

She feels lost and alone, and while Beorn's presence helps, she sees them two - and Fiona - as lone rocks in a storm-tossed sea, buffeted on all sides by failure and despair, and wishing to sink into the ocean and not bother with trying anymore. The Pact is gone, the Orders will never unite, and all her effort is for nothing.

And while the Elder Dragons might be defeated anyway… they also might not.

Tiffany falls asleep to these troubling thoughts.

Tiffany is fighting Risen, her wand warm in her hand as she is backed into a corner. "Expecto Patronum!" she yells frantically. A silvery bear comes out of her wand and lunges at the Risen, but passes through harmlessly…

She is Risen, now, she is a passenger in her own rotting body… she stumbles toward Fiona, who is in much the same position she had been in earlier. Beorn is with Fiona, rage pouring through the link, making Tiffany frantic as well, but she can't do anything - Zhaitan's will drives her body now.

She cries bitter tears as her body tears Beorn apart, is driven mad with grief and self-blame as her mind implodes with links to all the animal companions ever…

"Tiffany… no…" Fiona whispers as her Risen sister deals a fatal blow, her life fading…

Destiny's Edge fall to Tiffany's blade and savage smile, taken one by one unawares. Inside the head of the Risen body, Tiffany's mind is slowly fragmenting as she watches her loved ones die one by one, by her own Risen hand…

The Risen horde sweeps through Tyria, dominating the land…

She finds Taimi - young, defenseless, unaware Taimi - and gains another soldier for Zhaitan's army. The tiny Risen asura hangs around Risen Tiffany, and the sight of Taimi with her eyes glazed over in death but with the will of Zhaitan behind them drives Tiffany nuts.

Canach's disdainful snort as she comes for him brings tears to her eyes - or would if she was in control of her body - as he very expertly tries to defeat her with no compunctions whatsoever (as she hasn't seen him in Tyria yet). The Risen body defeats him, but he still does not surrender to Zhaitan's corruption, a fact that would have made Tiffany smirk.

Braham and his friends fall to her blade, then Kasmeer, Rox, Marjory… Tiffany becomes known as Risen to fear. Several people that she hadn't met had become targets - Canach and Marjory - and many that she'd only had a passing aquaintance with - Rox, Taimi, Braham, Malena and Reistr - and nobody is safe. Sieran falls, even Vriré…

Trahearne, telling her to kill him, her Risen self smirking in glee as the illusion hiding her nature comes undone, the shock and confusion on his face as he realizes what is happening, and yet can still see a tiny spark of awareness behind her eyes as she finds the most painful way to kill him… she can see when he gives up , her betrayal too much, as he dies so painfully slowly and Mordremoth is let loose again…

And then she battles Forgal. He had not encountered her blade yet, had somehow survived the legions of Risen sweeping Tyria, now joined by Mordrem… she fights Forgal as he tries desperately to end this twisted existence of the friend he once knew… they are evenly matched. Forgal had trained her well.

She finally falls to Forgal's blade, and her control returns for just a moment… "Thank you," she whispers as the corruption leaves her and she dies finally, as her body succumbs to the decomposition that Zhaitan's magic had held off for so long. "Thank you." She can finally rest, she can fall into blackness and know no more, not have to deal with the mental agony that being Risen had been…

Tiffany jerks upright with a scream, the vivid dream flashing before her eyes again. Beorn's mind is instantly there, soothing her and reminding her it was just a dream.

Fiona, ever the deep sleeper, is not aroused by Tiffany's wakefulness.

Tiffany lies down again, shuddering and trying to erase the memories, trembling at what she had done, wondering where in Tyria her subconscious had generated that dream.

She lays awake for hours, afraid to go to sleep again, until the sun peeks above the horizon and Divinity's Reach begins to stir.

She realizes that this is a possible truth - she could be killed by Risen, and if so, she is most likely to turn on those closest to her first. Only physically closest like Beorn and most likely Fiona, but dreams are largely symbolic. The part about Trahearne she attributes to it being a dream and therefore extremely weird, and the same goes for the fact that she'd fired a Patronus in the beginning. She manages a smile that her Patronus was a bear - if it had been anything else, she is sure Beorn would have at least pretended to be offended.

This does make her wonder, though, whether the minds of those turned into Risen do remain in their bodies, helpless. Nobody knows. It puts a new perspective on killing as many Risen as possible.

Tiffany comes to realize that she is not suitably angry at Zhaitan. Nobody she knows has been killed by Risen, and she knows that (if the Pact was capable of happening) she can kill it, and that killing it is just a stepping-stone to killing Mordremoth. She hasn't a healthy fear or respect of the Elder Death Dragon, and the idea of that is troubling to her. Even the nightmare she'd just had is just a dream - it doesn't influence her opinion of the Elder Dragon much. The wild emotions - unfettered by her subconscious, which hates it when she feels negative emotions like grief - she had felt within the dream are blunted now that she is awake.

Tiffany has given up hope that anything can bring the Pact into existence.

She hadn't really thought about how much the Pact meant to her since she realized it was the actual Pact she cared about, not its uses or accomplishments.

But now that she probes her feelings about the Pact, she realizes that it is, actually, the Pact itself she cares for. All the fond memories of working with its members are part of why the Pact means so much to her - watching old enemies reconcile into a single, flawless unit that strikes against Elder Dragons was just delightful, it pleased her to the farthest degree, made her happy. The sort of thing she strives for, the sort of thing she nurtures and protects like a mother cares for her child.

And, technically, Tiffany realizes, the Pact is her child. She thought up the idea for it and made it happen, and was even second-in-command under Trahearne. Wait, but that would mean - she redirects her thoughts immediately. Best not to think about anything remotely connected with that.*


Fiona is quite good at appearing normal - that or she doesn't get it as much as Tiffany does - but Tiffany is withdrawn and somber, and anyone who knows her well notices it. The ranger is quiet and despondent, and not at all her normal cheery self. Deborah notices something is wrong and drops the word 'whatever' in a conversation.

Tiffany doesn't respond to it, and Petra nearly faints. The others stare in shock, even Fiona. Tiffany had never missed a curse before.


Marjory and her associate, Henry Baker, had found the boy - Mendel - into a dark alleyway in the Salma district at about noon on Wednesday.

Marjory opens her mouth to speak to the boy, but Baker's sword flashes out of its sheath and into Mendel's chest. Marjory's eyes widen as the boy's last breath escapes his throat.

She states the obvious. "You killed him." Her voice is surprisingly calm - but she's in shock.

"I did my job," Baker corrects coolly. He smirks at her.

Marjory seethes. He'd taken the same oath she had - to protect and serve the Krytan Ministry and Divinity's Reach. Nowhere in that oath is killing innocent civilians condoned. And Baker had done it without hestitation.

Wondering in the back of her mind at the implications of this, Marjory slams Baker against the wall, holding her forearm under his chin. The Aspect of Renewal glows at her fingertips, and Baker tries to get away, pressing himself against the wall.

"We were just supposed to take him in for questioning," Marjory snarls.

Baker smirks. "Those might've been your orders, but they weren't mine. It was a need-to-know mission."

The mission had been to bring him in, not kill him! Marjory can't believe the Ministry would do such a thing… or maybe she can. The Ministry just might be that corrupt… She realizes that her surprise stems from the fact that she had been sent on this mission at all if Baker was just going to kill him. "You won't get away with this."

"What can you do?" Baker taunts. "Turn me over to the Seraph? This was sanctioned by the brass up in the nosebleed offices, way above our ranks. I'd be out of the holding cell before the Seraph had even finished grilling you. Then, you'd be the one in trouble, not me."

Recognizing the truth in the man's words, Marjory steps back, a ferocious snarl on her face.

"Good call," Baker tells her. "Listen, don't be naïve. What's one dead stranger out of thousands in this city? The Ministry keeps us safe, and that's all that matters. You keep your head down and do what you're told. Maybe you'll earn that need-to-know status. I'm heading back to the offices before some nosy citizen comes along."

Baker's casual dismissal of the boy's life sickens Marjory. She doesn't reply. As Baker walks away, she realizes that she can't work with people like this anymore.

"Hello?" a voice asks, quiet as if muffled by something.

Marjory turns to see the ghost of the boy, facing away from her. The Aspect of Renewal is instantly interested, and Marjory lets the power flow through her.

"Hello?" the ghost asks again, a note of panic entering his voice. "Is someone there?"

He can apparently feel Renewal - whether because he is a ghost or because he had some affinity with it himself in life, Marjory isn't sure. She speaks softly, as if speaking to cornered animal or a frightened child. "Mendel. It's okay. You're not alone."

Marjory knows she can send him to the Mists, ease his passage… gods know he'd probably been traumatised, either by being killed by one of the Ministry - who are supposed to protect people - or from witnessing whatever it was he saw that Baker had killed him for.

"Who… who are you?" His voice is quavery - warped by the aether.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Marjory says softly. "Tell me one thing, and then I'll send you to the gods. What crime did you witness yesterday?"

Mendel's misty form wavers, as if uncertain. "I… I…"

Marjory reaches out with the Aspect of Renewal, touching the ghost as if with her hand. He can feel it, and it soothes him. "You can tell me," she tells him.

"They took a… woman… into a cellar," Mendel says hesitantly, fearfully. "They used dark magic on her. She screamed, but it was silent. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes…"

"Okay. Who did this?" Marjory asks. Perhaps…

The ghost looks her in the eye for the first time. Marjory can see the fear and determination in his eyes. "Minister - "

Renewal - not hers - blasts past Marjory, and she rolls to the side, her own Renewal surrounding her like a cloud. But it hadn't been intended for her - it hits Mendel's ghost square in the chest, and he is instantly sucked into the Mists.

Easy passage, indeed. Marjory sprints after the other necromancer, following the faint trail of Renewal, her sixth sense guiding her. At the end of the alley, she pauses and glances around, looking for them.

A cloud of dead air bursts up around her, latched on, and would not let go. Dead air - quite dead. The smell alone tells her that much - this trap had been set by Renewal, primed and readied, but lingers no longer. Her own sense of the magic cannot lessen the impact of the putrid air that makes her eyes water and her mouth go dry. Marjory fights the urge to gag and searches her surroundings.

She notes a black-cloaked figure moving in the shadows to the right. Marjory runs after it, but it rounds another corner. Marjory pauses, and, wary of another trap, she peers around the edge.

No trap designed for a necromancer's immunities, no enemy to confront. No one. The mystery assassin had vanished into the open-air marketplace in the center of the Salma district.

Scowling, Marjory stands from her wary crouch. As she reaches her full height, somebody comes up behind her. They are too gentle, too… intimate for Marjory's fight or flight instincts. When the knife appears at her throat, she freezes, eyes widening. She'd been had.

"Calm," a deep voice says in her ear. The Aspect of Renewal does not react to this person, and Marjory can't feel any within him. This is not her target. "The man you're chasing is Kraig the Bleak. Magic for hire. You'll probably never see him again."

"Who are you?" Marjory asks, even as she mentally files the information away.

"Listen closely," the voice tells her, and Marjory knows she won't find out who he is. "There are forces at work in this city, in this world, that will take us all down if we let them. Together, you and I can make a difference."

The adrenaline is fading, and Marjory finds herself relaxing. "And what a positive start to our relationship." She notes with amusement that even her sense of humor is returning.

"One you won't forget," the voice tells her as if in warning. "I'll be in touch. You can call me E."

The knife vanishes, and the man - at least, Marjory assumes it was a man - is gone. All this, and all she can think is, 'I need a new job.'

She shakes her head and walks out into the street, intending to go home and have a stiff drink. She scans her surroundings out of force of habit. She turns away, then back again. She'd almost missed it, but - had someone been staring at her?

A young woman with a bow on her back is talking in a low voice to another, slightly taller, whose head is bent to listen to her.

Marjory narrows her eyes. She is sure that one or both had been looking at her moment before. Throwing caution to the wind, she approaches, ready to strike with Renewal if need be.

As she nears the two, a large bear, growling in its throat, blocks her way.

The only possible way a bear would be here, in the middle of Divinity's Reach, is either if it is part of a circus or a ranger's companion. The woman she has her eye on is wearing a bow on her back. Marjory looks up at her.

The woman is looking at her, a small smile on her face. The bear abruptly turns and lopes to her side. Marjory's eyes track it nervously.

"Don't worry, Beorn won't hurt you," the woman tells her, amusement evident in her voice. "I'm Tiffany, by the way, and this is my sister, Fiona."

The muscles in Marjory's face tighten, and she introduces herself warily… leaving off the accustomed 'Ministry Guard' on the beginning. "Marjory Delaqua," she says stiffly.

"Formerly of the Ministry Guard?" The woman - Tiffany - guesses.

Marjory barely manages to keep her jaw from dropping. 'How could she - how could anyone - know that I was planning to resign?' "Formerly?" she says aloud, quirking an eyebrow.

Tiffany seems slightly caught off guard for a moment, but then she says, "you did not introduce yourself as a member of that organization."

'But how did you know I was a member of the Ministry Guard in the first place?' Marjory wonders as she heads home for that long-awaited stiff drink.

The next day, she turns in her badge. The day after that, she forms Delaqua Investigations - based in the Dead End bar - and resolves to figure out the conspiracy behind the ghost boy's murder.

And to figure out why in the name of Kormir so many people know things about her. This E and those sisters in the Salma district.

Tiffany and Fiona likely will be the easiest - they had seemed quite forthcoming - so Marjory focuses her attention on E and why Mendel was so important to the Ministry Guard.


Author's Notes:

I thought this chapter would be a good place to reassert the fact that I am not going to be doing pairings. It will be hinted at (maybe) and generally assumed that Marjory and Kasmeer are together (and everybody knows that Caithe and Faolain were before Faolain died), and everyone knows of the weird relationship between Logan and Jennah, but nothing more will ever happen between anybody else, and the canon pairings are definitely going on off-scene as far as I'm concerned. Just thought this would be a good place to remind you guys, given that Marjory has just entered the scene. (And because I don't want anybody reading too much into the paragraph marked with a * at the end. There's nothing there… Tiffany has just been teased mercilessly by Falcon and she has very definite ideas about what exactly certain people mean to her.)

Anyway! Hope you liked it!