5/20/11
"He's done it," the Old One declared, dark eyes watching the crystalline structure closely, something approximating a smile forming on it's face. "Master! Master, I beg you, come to me! He's done it!"
It turned, searching the darkness and murk for it's Master's form. The place that the Old One stood was nothing more than swirling darkness, chaotic patterns. One 'wall' of it's lair was covered in crystals of various sizes, jutting from the unformed mists into an unending curve and swaying gently as if blown by a gentle wind. Some of the crystals glowed. Others were darker, or fading, while some seemed to gather light into them. Occasionally, they moved, shifted. Such was the nature of reality. Of time.
It kept staring into the mists and was rewarded as the dark eddies began to flow together, coalescing into the semblance of a face, hundreds of dark, malevolent eyes blinking at it's servant.
The Old One shuddered, partly in pleasure, partly in fear. The power of it's Master filled the space, pulsing with pure, chaotic, surging energy. The Old One fed on it's Master's energy waves. Such was the reward of being in the presence of one of the most powerful of the Old Ones.
"Thou hast summoned me..." a voice echoed in the darkness.
They were a bit melodramatic though.
The Old One suppressed a smile at the antiquated speech of it's Master. It bowed it's head to the ground, tentacles and smoke spilling forward in a slow drift towards the floor as it did so.
"Yes Master, I have called you here to report that I have found the thread that I have been searching for."
The Master's many eyes widened. It rushed forward into the dark space, gaining more form – a torso, covered in large pores, teeth and beaks in the center of each one, legs, of a sort, ending in tentacles that gripped the ground and slid forward. Arms formed lastly, powerful, with thin, rake-like fingers that dangled and danced in intricate patterns, as if weaving something in the air. The Old One watched it's Master in awe. It was drawing on the power of the Lightbringer's own universe to form a body for itself, drawing from that power, consuming it. It shivered in pleasure.
"Show me," the Master rasped in excitement.
The Old One straightened itself and rushed over to the wall of crystals. It reached out a sharp-nailed hand and delicately tapped on the one that it had been watching, a crystal that's light had been building steadily for some time now. A strand of that light seeped out of the side of the crystal, and the Old One quickly and nimbly snapped two of it's fingers on it's end, pulling it tight. It then slowly, carefully began to pull the string of light taught. It shimmered, light falling off of the string like flakes. They touched the dark ground and continued to glow. A good sign; this strand was strong.
The Old One finally pulled the string completely out. The crystal itself, robbed of it's strand of light, dimmed and disappeared back into the endless wall. It handed the string with palms upturned to it's Master, who snatched it up greedily, pulling it tight between it's own fingers and moving it's monstrous head close to it, it's eyes soaking up it's brilliant light.
The Old One watched it's Master's eyes, and, reflected in them, saw the scenes unfolding as he had seen in the crystal.
The Angel Castiel stood before the blood symbol in Crowley's lair. He had already drunken the ceremonial blood and had opened the Portal. Purgatory stood open before him.
The Master grinned, rotten, spike like teeth dripping ichor glimmered in the light of the strand. He balled up the string in his hand, and turned away from it's servant, facing the swirling mists of chaos beyond.
It began to trace intricate patterns in the mists with it's many free hands, light seeping from his balled up fist containing the string of light and flowing into the symbols, floating there, charging them, giving them form. Making them real – melding them with reality itself. Finally, the Master opened his hand in front of it's construct, and the rest of the light slammed into it. The Old One read it's Master's symbols briefly, and frowned, confused. The symbols glowed impossibly bright, then flew through the darkness into the places beyond – into the actual universe itself. The Old One caught a brief glance of stars and galaxies - Order - before the mists swallowed them up again.
The Master let it's hand drop that had been holding the string and the gray flakes that were all that was left of it floated silently and gently to the ground.
The Old One still stood watching it's Master questioningly.
"Master?", it said after a long time, as if summoning the courage to ask it's question.
The Master turned toward it, it's hideous face already beginning to lose form as it melded back into the chaos around them.
"Yes...thou willst something of me?", it hissed.
"Master...I...I do not understand. Please forgive me."
The Master's many eyes narrowed. "What is it that thou would ask of me?"
The Old One swallowed, terror welling up in it, at the very thought of questioning his Master...but still...
"Master, I read the spell that you wrought," it said quietly.
There was a long silence.
"And?", the Master finally replied, annoyance creeping into it's tone.
The Old One shuddered, but not asking now would be pointless.
"Master, you did not send the Old Ones to the Angel. Only the Vanguards, the Leviathans. They will only consume him. That is their purpose. Yes, I saw that Castiel will also kill one of the jailers...Raphael, but I thought that Castiel was integral to releasing us. Why destroy him now?"
The Master smiled. "Have faith, my servant" it said, it's voice fading along with it's form into the mists. "Have faith, and thou shall be rewarded. This thread was only the second opening of the Portal to our realm. It will set the stage for the third, and final breaking. I shall send thee there when it is time, my most faithful servant. I will send thee there in the form of the Lightbringer's most favored creation - as a human. Thou shalt bind the three openings together, throughout time and history. Thou shalt shape and form this reality so that it suits our Will. Only then, can I and my brethren be free."
The Old One frowned. "Why three, Master?"
The Master shook what remained of it's head. "The Lightbringer's Laws. It is He that formed the Universe as it is, and it is by His Laws that we are also bound. The Lightbringer is fond of the Powers of Three. The Universe is oft bound by this Rule of His. Keep searching, my servant. Find the Third Strand. It will be in the form of a Song – A Key that will shatter the bonds of our prison. A Key that one of the Lightbringer's servants will give to you – willingly. It will not be Castiel that gives you this, so if he is destroyed, then so be it. We play the game on the Lightbringer's own terms. So must it be. If we break those terms, he is free to stop us. And we cannot resist Him if he does. One of our own jailers must set us free. Those are the rules."
With that, the Old One's Master faded completely away into the chaos, and the Old One was left alone again with it's crystals. It turned back to them.
It had spent Eternity itself searching the infinite crystals, trying desperately to find the perfect strands of time and destiny that would break their bonds. It studied the wall of crystals, it's eyes drawn to their light, studying the millions upon millions of stories and strands of destiny contained in each one – as it had already done for all time. What was another Eternity's worth of searching for it?
It wondered, not for the first time, at which point in it's immortal life, that it had gone completely mad.
"Have you gone completely mad, Castiel?", Crowley screamed as they raced out of the Temple of the Deep. The blue Atlantian light streaked past them in torrents, howling. Whether the sound came from the energy itself, or the monsters from Purgatory that had just been released, they could not tell.
"I'm telling you, Crowley, I don't remember a thing!," Castiel shot back, face furious with anger.
They reached a large wall at the edge of the plaza before the Temple and leapt over it, huddling in the lee of it, catching their breath in a brief respite from the storm of energy.
Crowley, breathing hard, turned to study Castiel's face, who was staring in blind fury at the sky, also out of breath. He looked over at Crowley after a while, annoyed.
"What?!", he spit at him.
Crowley smiled, and shook his head slowly. "No, no, you're probably right. I was watching you in there. You were out of it the second we walked in."
Castiel frowned. "Out of it, how?"
Crowley shrugged. "Wouldn't answer direct questions, stared around blankly, that sort of thing."
Castiel's face twisted in disbelief. "And you didn't think to stop me?"
Crowley, taken aback, held a palm against his chest. "How am I supposed to know the difference between your usual mercurial self and the possessed one? I thought the Temple was short-circuiting you somehow!"
Castiel's frown deepened and he turned away. "No. It wasn't the Temple. But someone definitely had a hand in that. And I mean to find out who."
They both stood up and started running toward Crowley's casino. Ramiel and the Angels had decided to stay back and stem the tide of creatures escaping from Purgatory at the bottleneck at the top of the Temple's staircase, hopefully long enough for Castiel and Crowley to find a way to shut it again, or get more help.
"No worries on finding out who," Crowley huffed as they sped through the empty market. "Got a pretty good idea who. How is the real question here."
Castiel shot him a questioning glance as they passed from the market into the narrower streets of the gambling district. He watched the Atlantian stones on the sides of the road and frowned.
"Who was it then?", he asked, slowing down, looking from side to side.
Crowley slowed down with him, looking around as well.
"The Emperor. The question is when he managed to pull off this little bit of Angel programming."
"Crowley, Stop that."
"Stop what?"
Castiel looked at him, eyes narrowing. "I'm not a robot, Crowley," he said, moving closer to the side of the road, staring closely at the rock. He watched it for a few seconds and backed away, letting his Angel Blade drop into his hand.
"Robot?", Crowley asked, cocking his head and watching Castiel's actions with curiosity. "Whatever do you mean?"
Castiel shot him a withering glare. "'Short-circuited', 'Programming'. Stop referring to me like I'm some sort of defective toaster."
Crowley frowned. "I actually did not realize that I was doing that, Castiel. I was just using the words that seemed to fit, you know what I mean?"
Castiel stood stock still, body tense. "They don't fit, Crowley. Someone forcibly controlled my actions. And I am not happy about that. As a matter of fact, I'm angry. Very, very angry. And I'd like some answers." He turned to Crowley in the dim light. "Now...does that sound like a robot to you?"
Crowley straightened his jacket's collar and cleared his throat. "Well then, if you put it that way, my sincerest apologies, Castiel. Now, may I please ask, what in the bloody hell are you doing now?", he hissed out the last in a rush.
"The lights," Castiel replied simply, looking left and right.
"What about them?"
"They aren't marking our path," Castiel answered, his voice dropping into a whisper, Crowley whipped his head around at the Atlantian stones. Son of a bitch, he thought, I hadn't noticed that...
There was a faint hissing sound in the night. Something scraped against the ground, just out of sight.
"We were followed," Castiel said, his voice laced with warning.
Crowley swallowed hard. "By what?"
As if in response, several lurking forms of pure malevolent hate came slithering out of the shadows, their eyes fixed on Castiel and Crowley, their jaws open, slaver flowing over spear-like teeth onto the ground. Deep Ones.
"Them," Castiel said darkly, bringing his Blade to a guard position, his feet spreading apart into a combat stance.
"Castiel," Crowley answered hoarsely. "Castiel, we barely stopped one of these things back in New Orleans, how are we supposed to handle this many of them?"
The shadows moved again, and another dozen or so Deep Ones came out of the shadows and moved into a circle around them, joining the others. Crowley groaned.
"Well Crowley," Castiel said, a grin forming on his face. "I guess you've never seen me this angry before."
With that, Castiel sprang forward with a roar, his Blade held in front of him at the wall of ancient horrors.
