DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'Stargate: Atlantis'. They're not my property. The 'Ancient Krolevians' are mine.
"I never imagined it was possible..."
"It is. It is real," he assured her. "I will be waiting for you there. Everyone will be waiting for you."
In the wide room, a young man sat on a chair brushing away dirt stuck in some of the tiny holes around the pendant. He was soon joined by a colleague curious to see how the work was progressing. "You're still cleaning it?" Paul asked.
"Mm."
" I can't believe you found it on the ground just like that. One would expect it to be kept somewhere safe." He looked at the small circular stone, no bigger than a coin with layers of deep green and light green surrounded by a silver frame that was held by a delicate chain.
"It would be surprising," Marko replied, "if we didn't come across all those bones before." He moved the brush gently over the stone. "Something nasty happened back there."
"I agree." Paul sighed. They had discovered this small piece of jewelry in a small, empty room, too far away from the site of the bones for them to make any real guesses. "It looks like it could've belonged to someone from the royal family."
"Maybe. I don't remember a rock like this being found in Delonia."
"It could've been acquired through trade."
"If we could only find any documents that would tell us they did any trading outside of Delonia." Marko leaned back to give himself a moment of rest. "Any luck with the tapestries?"
"No. I'm going to begin doubting they ever existed in the first place…."
"And George was so sure about them." Marko looked at the necklace. "Are you going to tell the Canadians about this?"
"No," Paul replied simply.
She woke up to the sound of crowds and cars. Elizabeth blinked several times when the strong rays of the sun hit her harshly. She swore quietly before the warm sheets reminded her of the way she had slept. No clothes but the orange bed sheet over her – not her usual way of spending the night. Her mind failed to produce memories of how her clothes had been removed…
A pleasant dream but nothing else. She sat up and yawned as her tired eyes looked around the empty hotel room. Everything appeared tidy and in its place, something she remembered. She fell back on the bed. Her nose picked up a sweet smell of watermelon on the pillow next to hers. She thought little of that, and focused more on the thought of needing to find John. Elizabeth slowly left the bed and began putting on her underwear. She knew now. It finally came to her.
John folded his map of Europe back and put it in the backpack. The red door of his room opened slightly. "John?" Fulya's voice was heard.
"Evet?"
"İngilizce konuşan bir bayan sizi arıyor."
"Ah?" John stood up and opened the door widely. "Teşekkürler," he said and took the phone. When Fulya left, John answered the call. "Elizabeth?"
"Good morning."
"Yeah, thanks." He felt rather tired and not with an impression that it had been that good of a morning. The reason for that tiredness, however, was not known to him.
"You don't sound too good," she noted.
"Kind of tired…don't think I slept too well." He heard a quiet sigh on the other line.
"I know the feeling," her sympathetic answer was even quieter. "But the reason I called…" her voice picked up volume. "..is that we might have found a way to open the chamber."
"Really."
"Yes, but…um, I need you to come and have a look at something first."
It was when he arrived back at the site that John was led by Elizabeth to the chamber. Standing in front of the sealed door, he saw a small but sharp knife being pulled out from her pocket. She began searching for something at the upper part of the door until she found a tiny circle and jammed the blade in it. The door stood still, not moving.
"Doesn't seem to work," he said.
"I am not done," she responded with confidence and a focus for the old door.
"What exactly did you find?"
She didn't respond to his question. Instead, she turned the blade twice – each turn revealing a half-circle around it, reaching the upper end of the door. The circular shape deepened as Elizabeth turned the knife two more times. Then, suddenly the door fell down. "Come on!" she waved him inside.
"Just like that?" Seeing not even a flashlight to help guide her inside, John was surprised by her eagerness.
"Yes, it is safe, come on!" She urged him, repeating the same hand motion.
John was doubtful, as this appeared strange to him. "We should tell –"
"No!" Elizabeth hissed and jumped back to face him, covering his mouth with her hand. "They cannot know!" she whispered.
His eyebrows almost merged at the unexpected request. "Elizabeth?" his muffed voice barely came through her flesh. Enough natural light managed to be splashed inside this old space for John to see the strange need in her eyes.
"They must not know," she sounded determined but at the same time begging.
"Why?"
She shook her head and slowly removed her hand from his mouth. "You will see," her tone of whisper remained.
John saw her waiting for his response. Once again, he went against his better judgment for her. "Lead the way then," he whispered to her.
She smiled to his reply and hurried inside.
"Can't believe I said that," John said and hurried after her in the darkness. The silence and lack of light gave him an uneasy feeling that only increased once the door closed behind them. "Was that supposed to happen?" he asked, staring at the darkness.
"Yes," she answered from somewhere.
"Oh great." He could not see the woman but at least he could hear her moving. It felt cold in here, quiet, dusty, creepy. John expected the dust to make her sneeze but it didn't.
"Come here and help me move this," she called him.
How could she see anything in this thick darkness? "Where?" he asked.
"Here!" She sounded almost annoyed by his slow response. "Oh, yes… you cannot see anything."
He felt her taking his hand and leading him forward. "Do not worry, there is nothing here to hurt you," she spoke to him like to a child.
"Elizabeth… how did you find out how to open the chamber?"
"Because I was the one who ordered the construction."
"Say what?"
She lowered his hand down until he felt a warm stone beneath his hand. Elizabeth didn't give further explanation to his request but simply told him to push the stone forward. He did. With every push, faint light was being uncovered from beneath the, now visible, white stone. Once it was pushed away entirely, a sudden, large flame burst through the circular hole.
"Shit!" John leaped back, taken horribly aback by this. The fire with its bright, yellow light gradually took on a greener color, chasing most of the darkness away from this room.
Even Elizabeth appeared surprised by this as she stared at the flame. "No," she spoke. "Why is this still burning?"
Sitting on the sandy surface, John was presented with the opportunity to see this medium-sized room. Despite the flame in its middle, there appeared to be nothing of note in here. The grey stone walls were bare, and the floor was empty; so many expectations for a room which contained… nothing. "Elizabeth?" he then called her.
"It was supposed to be extinguished with its death… why…why is it still burning?" She stared at the flame. "Perhaps it is waiting for me…" Elizabeth added quietly.
"Hey!" he tried again, standing up. Finally her face turned toward him. "What's going on here?"
"I asked you to come here for a good reason, John."
"Yeah? I'm still waiting to hear it."
Her eyes traveled from his face to the flame several times until finally she approached him. "You are my witness, John, that I was indeed present here," she spoke with her hand to her chest. "She is only a tool for me, but I believe she has at least the right to know what has happened. I have no doubt Elizabeth would believe you when you tell her."
"Eli-?" He tilted his head. "Are you alright?"
A grin appeared on her face. "Oh yes. In fact, I am happy."
She wasn't lying, at least, from what John could see in her green eyes. Elizabeth started speaking to him in a language not familiar to him except for a few words he had known as Krolevian. Her tone took a gentler turn until it descended into a whisper. "She has been a good host for me." She smiled at the way he was looking at her. "I am Destvia."
"Are you now." John took a step back.
"I do not expect you to believe me now, but you will soon."
"You don't say."
"I came here after my 34th birthday, and this!" she spread her arms, "Was in a much simpler, more primitive state. My captor wanted…through me, it ordered the construction of the surrounding walls and gate, so when the time came, everyone would know it as…" she shook her head in a disgusted manner, "as the birthplace of all that is righteous…and other lies. This fire," she pointed to the green flame, "began burning the moment the demon escaped its resting place." She began walking around it. "I learned, while being its captive, that with the demon's death, this fire would extinguish itself."
"But it hasn't."
"No, perhaps my own departure would cause its end," she sounded hopeful.
"I can't say any of this makes much sense," John replied.
"It will."
"You're that queen who pretty much brought the Bronze City to its quiet death." He remained skeptical, but decided to play along.
"No!" she objected loudly. "That was not me!"
"Well, from what we found in there, it said otherwise."
"That is because no one was aware of the truth."
"And that was…?"
"It was a demon's doing, not mine!"
"You were taken over by a demon."
"Yes."
"Here."
"That is correct."
He couldn't help but smirk. "Look, Elizabeth –"
She rushed toward him. "It is not her you are talking to now, John," her response appeared sharp, her look even more so. "For the time being, remember that."
John could not be certain of this. Her gaze appeared different, her earlier words appeared strange… "So, that should explain how come you could 'see' in the dark."
"You are mocking me?"
"No, no… it's just…well, if you were in my place you would find this a bit…or more, hard to believe."
She moved her head back. "You are as skeptical as she is…" Destvia smiled softly. "What you could not see or touch… it does not register as real to you."
"Something like that."
Her arched eyebrow lifted itself higher to his response. "I used to be like that once. I believed in no deities, ghosts….anything; even less so after the murder of my parents…. But after being a prisoner of a dark….being for so long… my beliefs changed."
Perhaps there could be some truth to this. "So that was what Juliana did to Elizabeth back at the city?"
"I had to escape. It was my only chance and I used it."
"And you couldn't do it before?"
"When my body was injured, its grasp on my soul was too tight for me to break free, so I remained its prisoner, even when Gord and the other soldiers confined it in that 'box' which the woman opened. When it entered her body, it was still weak, finding its way through…its grip was not as strong during those moments, and that allowed me to escape."
"Why Elizabeth?"
"Well," she smiled. "It would not be very appropriate for a female soul to find temporary refuge in a body of a man."
"Yeah, guess that works." John crossed his arms. "Why are we here now?"
"My time here is coming to an end, and this is where I must part from this world."
"Great, and Elizabeth?"
"She… she should survive, if she is lucky."
This alarmed him. "Wait, what?"
"I do not know what my departure will do to her, but if I do not attempt anything, we will both die."
"And how are you planning on….leaving?"
Destvia removed her gaze and settled it on the flame. She stretched out her hand for the green flame to touch it.
"Hey, whoa!" John ran up to her, removing her hand.
Destvia's stare was that of shock. "What do you think you are doing?"
"Stopping you from injuring her!"
"Would you prefer that she dies?" she asked him coldly.
"No! But I'm not too happy about seeing her being burned alive like that."
Destvia stared at him, her quiet shock morphed into coldness. "Do you know how it felt to have those who had adored you to look at you with fear and hatred? Do you know how it felt like to watch people being tortured for pleasure of something else? Have you any idea how it could feel like for history to remember you as a tyrant when you were not one? As a witch, a monster who never cared for her people?"
"Can't say I do."
"I watched it kill those who were dear to me. I watched it turn my beloved city into a city of death and suffering. No one knew the truth…. No one…"
"Your lover seemed to have known."
"Only near the end." Her eyes softened visibly at his memory. "And he risked his mortality for me."
John was silent. Something in her eyes got to him. "And the city."
"Yes, but…" she sighed. "He chose not to kill it until I was its prisoner."
"Why?"
"Because my soul would disappear into nothingness along with the demon, and that was considered as punishment by us."
"And this?"
"This is an opportunity for my soul to join the others, to be remembered."
"How?"
"We believe if our Guide picks the soul from our corpses and flies into the white sanctuary that we remain as a memory in the minds of our descendants."
He watched her quietly, somehow struck by her words to a level that even frightened him.
Destvia saw this in him. "Before Gord came to me… I did nothing to aid Elizabeth in discovering more about this chamber. I believed he had perished before destroying that hideous demon. At times my consciousness might have merged with hers, altering her. Sometimes it allowed her a glimpse inside a few pieces of my life by accident… I attempted to keep certain memories away from her, and it hurt her work… But some things from the past are best not revealed in the future. Such sadness had taken over me that I gave into the thought of disappearing into forgetfulness… but at least I would not disappear in that rotting demon."
John didn't say anything, only stood next to her, holding her wrist.
"However, after our meeting, I became eager because I knew he survived, his soul was saved and forgiven. And now it is my chance."
"Meeting?"
"Yes…" Her lips trembled for a moment. "I…we communicated in a special way that only spirits could and one which is beyond the level of your understanding."
"Of course," he replied with a touch of sarcasm. She only stared back at him, unwilling to share more of that topic. "I can't let you hurt her."
"John."
"No."
"She is not aware of what is happening now."
"I can't believe that."
"You have no choice."
"Yes I do."
"So you would rather watch her die."
"No."
"Then allow me, John."
"You said you don't know what will happen to her if you go through with this."
"Yes." She shook her head. "I only wanted you to be a witness who had spoken to me. If I succeed, she will be alive and well with only a dream that she could not remember."
"You know this will raise a lot of questions –" he pointed to the walls.
"Ones you will not answer to. Everything will return to the way it was once the ritual is complete. They will find this place in the same state as you did…. They will give wrong assumptions to its role, as they usually do from what I had seen so far, and… it will come to a pleasant end."
He had doubts. "There is more to this…"
She was quiet for a moment. He had taken too much of her short time on this Earth. "I want to tell you more, but my time is not long and you are making it shorter for me. Forgive me…" Her other hand reached for his neck and struck a blow that sent him into unconsciousness.
He fell to the ground, leaving her free. Destvia turned back to the flame. She looked up and heard a whisper. She smiled to its words. Without hesitation she stepped inside the flame. No scream was heard as the flame increased and burned. Pale green light emerged from the sealed ceiling. The light parted into two rays that revealed a white raven. It approached the flames, gliding above the woman's body. The wind from the wings chased the flames enough for Destvia's face to be revealed. She smiled and opened her mouth, but the raven did not touch her lips; instead it spread the flames in a larger circle around her. This confused her. "Why?" she asked.
"You must be cleansed," a soft voice spoke from above.
"Cleansed? No, why? I am free…"
"You had been its prisoner for too long."
The raven circled around the flames, increasing their quiet hunger. Fear sparked inside the woman. She couldn't see anything around her but those viciously hot green flames.
The raven descended to the ground and approached John's unconscious body. Carefully it watched him, searching for something. It then touched John's bare arm with its beak, and without much effort it punctured a hole, allowing red and green blood to begin flowing from the wound. It waited until a small puddle was formed next to the man, and then it began gathering it with its beak. The liquid left no moisture on the ground, as the raven caressed the wounded arm with its left wing, healing it with each stroke until there was no trace of anything there. It flew up and over the flames where Destvia had been. She looked at it with unexpected fear in her eyes.
"Open your mouth," the voice told her.
She obeyed. Time was too short for her.
From the pale beak drops of mixed blood began dropping inside her mouth. Destvia swallowed it and then waited. The calmness lasted only briefly when a sharp pain struck her head forcing her to scream and drop to the ground on her hands and knees. She shut her eyes to the sharp daggers in her head. Another scream followed before the pain suddenly ceased, allowing her to open her eyes and giving a false hope of an ending, when the pain surged down to her abdomen. It spun around, burrowing inside her as its intensity grew. She held onto her stomach, wanting more to puncture it with her fingers to remove the hurting from inside. The tears that left her eyes were long and slow until she began coughing out blood of pure, bright red. The tears stung her eyes as she tried to keep them open. With fresh stains of blood on her mouth and face, Destvia looked up at the watchful creature above her. She tried to take deep breaths but it was difficult. Her strength felt fragile, her voice absent; her human muscles barely gave her a chance to stand up, with knees too weak to hold her weight longer. Another urge to vomit overcame her and she fell down once again, coughing out even more blood. It felt painful. Among the thick redness she suddenly saw a thin black larvae struggling. "Do you see that?" she was asked. "You have not escaped it completely, Destiva."
She was too weak to respond with words as she watched the tiny remains of an evil she wished to escape.
"Like a parasite it would have nested inside her and begin the cycle anew."
Destvia looked up at the silent eyes of her Guide.
"There is more," she was told. The flames attacked her, covering her completely. In the chaos, the raven's beak touched inside the tender flesh from where another pale mist of a sleeping woman was pulled out. With it, the raven flew up, disappearing with the last rays.
Time passed and the flame began to slowly fade and fade until it became a mere spark that vanished in time. Elizabeth's unharmed body collapsed to the ground, sweat covering every bit of her flesh.
With a soft aching pinch in his arm, John slowly brought himself out of unconsciousness. Pale gray light behind him gave his eyes some visibility in this otherwise dark chamber. He slowly turned to see the door opened. Looking back at his shadow, he noticed Elizabeth's silhouette. He hurried over to her. A sense of panic took over him as he touched her sweaty skin looking for signs of life. When his senses picked up that pulse and that heartbeat, his level of alertness diminished slightly and John brought her closer to him, holding her upper body in his embrace.
"Elizabeth?" he breathed out her name to which she didn't respond. The stains of blood on her face worried him, making him curse the fact that he was not there when this happened. Beyond the curls of her hair he saw the moved stone and a small hole that showed no signs of disturbance. John wished he knew what happened or if Elizabeth had been aware of all this. Looking down at her face, he hoped she had little or no recollection of the ritual. It was so very quiet in here. He could not hear the voices from the few workers going on about their business from the outside.
"Let's get you out of here," he said and took her in his arms again. He turned to leave but then suddenly stopped, looking at her face for a moment. He lowered her to the ground and began wiping the stains of blood away from her face with the end of his blue shirt. The less explaining he would need to do, the better. Few stains remained when he removed his hand but they were too small to be noticeable right away. Again he stood up and carried her out of the chamber. The footprints that were left behind him and the once present ancient spirit slowly disappeared.
Freddie and Mustafa had finished a survey when they saw John carrying an exhausted Elizabeth. "What happened?" Freddie asked about his friend.
"She felt tired and just fainted."
"I'm gonna call –"
"Uh, doc, no, there's no need."
"Are you sure, she looks –"
"Just tired, but she'll be fine, trust me. I'll take her back to the hotel."
Somehow, Freddie ended up agreeing to his request. "Mustafa was about to leave, he could drive you," he offered, and his colleague confirmed the offer. John didn't hesitate to accept it.
After they left, Freddie came down to the chamber where he only saw the closed gate. Nothing seemed different.
Mustafa passed the green light and then briefly looked at his rear mirror. With her head resting on his chest, Elizabeth slept quietly whilst John watched whatever passed by the slightly lowered window. "Iyilesecek mi?" he asked the man.
John looked down at her. "Sanirim," he replied and gently brushed her hair.
With only the thick bathrobe around her, Elizabeth sat quietly in her chair, with a glass of hot tea in her hands. With his head leaning on the two fingers of his hand, John watched her silently. Both were sitting on the table on a balcony overlooking the town. It was cloudy this morning; the heavy, dark clouds were slowly announcing the arrival of rain. It was a rather depressing morning.
Her left bare shoulder ended up being shyly exposed to his view, but his eyes were concentrated on her face. He worried. "Did you manage to get some sleep?" John asked her softly.
"Five minutes," she replied, keeping her eyes to the opened view.
John licked his lips. He could only imagine how unsettling last night had been for her. After he brought her to her room and she finally came around, Elizabeth took a shower – a very, very long one. John insisted to stay with her for the rest of the night just in case. Elizabeth insisted to be left alone. They agreed on a compromise for John to return the next morning, and here he was now. John told her everything. He could not know for certain how she felt. "How do you feel?"
A small smile dared to appear on that clean face of hers. "That's the fifth time you asked me this morning."
"Wanting to make sure." When she looked back at him, John saw nothing extraordinary in her gaze. He picked up tiredness, but nothing to suggest she had been through a traumatic experience… either that, or she simply hid it too well.
"And I thought it was only I who worried too much for my own good."
He smiled briefly to her comment. "Will you go back?" he asked her.
She took a sip of the hot drink and then looked down at the glass in her hands. Elizabeth shook her head, and John could now see that elegant, swan-like neck of hers for the first time. "No," she replied. "I'm flying back to Toronto."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. I can't shake off this feeling that my role is done here. I'll talk to Freddie later and…" She sighed. Elizabeth put the glass back on the table and picked up the black notebook. "She certainly didn't leave much behind," she said about the large number of torn out pages. She opened the first page and touched the paper with her palm.
John was wrong. That experience, no matter how aware Elizabeth had or hadn't been, left a deep mark inside her; he could tell when she picked up the notebook. "Guess she wasn't as generous with her memories as we thought," he replied.
"No."
Any other time John would smile at the way she would stretch that 'o', but now, he remained quiet.
"And you haven't given me your reply about my request," she said and looked back at him.
"Coming with you?" He only saw her continuous gaze. This time, he showed a brief smile. "I think I'll have a walk to think about it." John stood up. It had been more about giving some time to herself, rather than to decide about her request. He had done that already.
"Okay." She felt his hand on her covered shoulder and a soft but brief kiss on her head. The door closed again and Elizabeth remained alone. She took a deep breath and looked back at the heavy clouds.
End of Part 2
Author's note: Thank you for the great reviews. I hope you enjoyed this second part :) A special thank you to Jess. :-)