Hope. You. Like. Thanks for coming with me, and I hope it wasn't too scattered

Three years later and all was silent; except SHE wanted answers... like mother like daughter.

There were no questions about the 'battle of Lock Ness,' as some conspicuous absence of bodies and witnesses made it a moot point to investigate. A young mother and her two girls supposedly witness to the melee were reported to have made the story up to enliven the trip. That they'd recently 'found' several millions worth of yet undiscovered Nazi gold while on holiday in Europe...was curious. The evacuation of the village in Scotland that refused to be named was a result of gas main leaks that proved all too accurate. But the death of her father...

Rhiannon tossed her long auburn hair and stared unflinching into her mother's slowly disolving stoic gaze, her arms folded. Two years old, and so like her... too much perhaps. How much she resented him for abandoning her as well... for the greater good.

How she loved this girl, wanted the fairytale family... for her. But how to explain to her about the fact her father gave his life to deny Trinity the means to control her; so she could be her own woman, lead her own life? That that was why her daddy wasn't coming home.

His parents had taken care of her home as she had chased Trinity into the shadows; fed Volcanus, strengthened the bond between herself and the elemental till she could see what it saw, heightened her instincts, hardened her heart. She could feel their terror, and enjoyed it. Then came the 'dreams' of an entoming of a 'god': Set? Well, his... and another.

She had tried to arrange for Evan and the others to be buried in her family crypt, but with no remains to speak of...

The focused gaze before her was unrelenting.

"Baby," she choked on the next word, three years, and not one man since, "daddy...,"

The door bell rang.

She gasped, "One moment, please baby."

Rhiannon pouted, but picked up her plastic sword, and play-fought a suit of armor.

Lara rushed to the door, cutting off Andrea who was on her way to bring Rhiannon a package of hog lumps.

"Thanks, she's in the foyer fighting her great-great-great- great grandfather."

She adjusted herself and pulled open the two great doors... and nearly fainted, "You have a fucking nerve," she gasped to her daughter's father.

"you owe me twenty quid," Jean whispered to Serge - a pure American accent coming from his mouth - as the two lovers embraced and melted into one another.

Evan's father walked up and patted his son on the shoulder.

Lara came up for air, "you knew?, " she asked the older man.

"Had our suspicions when the fire came up one crimson football jersey shy."

"We caught someone spying on you during what you thought was a private stroll with Doppy," Andrea added, "When Alistair wouldn't identity them, we knew it was just a matter of time."

"Couldn't have Trinity knowing he's alive, so we let you think..." Jean said sheepishly.

She nodded as her lover moved to the far side of the room, staring into his daughter's eyes.

"Up," the future countess commanded.

"VERY lady like," the young assassin said as he obeyed, and picked her up, carrying her to her mother.

"See," Lara said, almost crying, "your daddy."

Rhiannon looked thoughtfully at her father, "where's the red nose? Mommy said you were a clown?"

"And some say your mummy is a countess, NOT a crazy person. Speaking of which, Lady Carter, where is your dress? a toddler in tactical gear is just..."

"Fine." Lara finished.

Rhiannon grinned, and laughed at her father as he rolled his eyes.

"Besides," Lara stated, "you need to start training her now. She may be special, but she still needs training. Trinity is still out there, and Sam says there may be a way to give her a normal life. Till then, nobody can know she exists. And if Trinity gets the better of me, she will have to become me in their eyes. Just one thing, what do I call you?" she asked Jean.

"Carter... Carter Bell."

"Hero worship." Evan said smugly.

"Guy who was in the archeology course whose identiy I purchased... don't ask."

"And you?," she asked Serge.

"Been busy redistributing Rene's wealth to keep you properly kitted, supplied, and protected politicaly. You can be rearmed and supplied anywhere and anytime."

"And what of..."

Her phone messages beeped.

'When you need me: O.B.B.'

"Old blind bastard." Jean answered, "said try to find your way alone, and trust in your... then he started screaming to the spirits to stop barging in when he's talking."

"What to call this one?," Andrea asked, indicating her son, "Rhiannon's new manservant?"

"Late for dinner?" Zip said as he entered.

"Something..." Carter started.

"We'll figure it out," Lara inteupted, "But we need to get started on finding some cursed, or 'blessed' by Volcanus, artifacts that need to be brought back here to be 'cleaned' by Rhiannon before some other ambitious fools get tethered by Merlin."

...

It is waiting. Thirty lost souls swirling about in their own private hells, alone, unloved, inside it's jade eyes, unable to forget their crimes they had commited once putting it on. It made their dreams come true... It just prefered their nightmares.

THERE. Thank you for reading, next comes the first of the cursed objects : The Mask of The Dreamer