Author's Note: The Cessation update

Hello everyone.

I realize it has been an extremely long time since I've updated, over a year, in fact. There are two major reasons for this: The first is that some real-life drama that has popped up in my life, and I really haven't had any opportunity for writing whatsoever.

The second, and more pertinent to the fate of the story, is that, now that I've almost reached the end of it, the Cessation really isn't going where I want it. When I started writing it way back when, I had a very different goal in mind than I do now, and I realize that parts of the story don't accomplish that goal.

So, after much deliberation, I've decided to completely overhaul the story from the beginning, and re-write the vast majority of it. The version already posted here will stay the way it is, probably uncompleted, and the new version will be posted under a different title, because so much of the story will be different.

I realize this will not sit well with some of you, and I apologize, but I really think this is the best thing for the story and for my vision of the story. I hope you will enjoy the new version.

That said, the section below is the next chapter that I had originally written for this version of the story, and I felt it unfair for me to not post it along with this news.

Thank you for all of your comments and for reading, and I'll see you in the overhaul.

Chapter XXXIV: Angels Fall First Part four of four

With a slight smile on her face, Moria watched from the corner of her cell as Teela departed, knowing that, at least after he got done with her, Man-at-Arms and his adopted daughter would have quite the interesting chat. Moria only wished she could be there to hear it. Unfortunately, as she was forced to remember when Duncan turned towards her with a furious glare, her attentions were required elsewhere.

"What did you tell my daughter?!" he demanded angrily, and Moria fancied she saw froth forming at the edges of his mouth.

At first, the Ancient Queen did not bother replying, but when Duncan repeated his query with a rapidly purpling face, her smile widened. "I told your daughter nothing, Man-at-Arms," she replied coolly, inspecting her fingernails. "Because you have no daughter."

If possible, Duncan became even more enraged, and his fingers clasped and unclasped, as if with a desire to wrap themselves around Moria's neck. "Then. What. Did. You. Tell. Teela?" he demanded, the words coming out through tightly clenched teeth as he struggled, unsuccessfully, to control his anger.

"I hardly see how that is any concern of yours," the Dereskian stated smoothly, her calm, controlled tone a sharp contrast to the barely concealed rage of her counterpart.

Man-at-Arms took several deep breaths, turning away from the captive woman for a long moment before finally facing her again. "Indulge me."

The Queen regarded him with all of her royal bearing, her chin raised slightly and her hands idly at her side. "She asked me to tell her of her mother, Duncan. Since no one else seems willing to discuss that topic, I felt compelled to answer her. Is that, too, a crime?"

"It is my opinion that anything you do should be considered a crime, Lady Moria," came Man-at-Arm's quick reply. He had bristled at the woman's blatant use of his first name, but for now, he would ignore it. "Your execution could not come too soon for my tastes," he admitted honestly.

"Ah," Moria Vadorian replied, taking a few steps towards the bars of her cell. "How fortunate for you, then, that you do not have to wait very long."

Duncan met her gaze, his own seeming to shoot daggers at her. "Dawn is yet too far, your highness," he stated acridly, using her title in the most irreverent way possible.

"Then," Moria countered simply, smiling her odd little smile. "It seems we shall both have to wait."

"Yes," Duncan bristled. There was a pause that lasted for a long moment, and then Duncan's features grew firm one more, and he grimaced, angry that he should have to utter the next words. "King Randor instructed me to ask if you had a last request. Should you, our law requires that the King and I to fulfill it." From the tone of his voice, Moria could tell that the prospect was not one that the King's advisor looked forward to.

The Ancient Queen pondered for a moment, considering. She took a little too long for Man-at-Arms' liking, and he turned away, stating, "I shall inform the King that you have no such wish."

"Actually," the Dereskian called after him in a commanding tone, causing the advisor to pause in his step. "There is something." Moria proceeded to make her wish known, as once again anger fell over Duncan's features. When she had finished, the anger turned to horrified indignation.

"I see," Randor commented dryly as he listened to one of his ministers prattle on about something. "And the gradually lowering of the tides is–"

"It is not gradual, Sire, that's the problem." The minister of oceanography was impassioned, trying to get his king to understand exactly why this was so terrible. "The high tides have dropped nearly two feet in the past week, Sire! And before that, we hadn't noticed any problem with the–"

Duncan chose that moment to barge in through the doors. Randor took one long at his old friend and stood up in his throne, alarmed. "Duncan!" he exclaimed. "What is it?"

Man-at-Arms looked at his king pointedly and said simply: "It's her." Without stopping to hear the King's obvious question, Duncan pushed on and told Randor exactly what Moria had said to him in the cell.

"What?!" Randor demanded incredulously, as if unsure that he had heard correctly.

"Apparently, Your Highness," Man-at-Arms grumbled angrily. "The Dereskian's last wish is to see her daughter," He glared angrily at the idea, and then grudgingly continued. "She asks that Evil-Lyn be allowed to enter the capitol and come into the cell with her, so that they may talk, undisturbed, until it is time for the prisoner to go to Grayskull."

The King stood up from his throne. "Preposterous!" he exclaimed. "The very idea is–"

"Darling," Queen Marlena interrupted for the first time, having sat there simply and listened while everything was going on. She placed one of her hands lightly on her husband's shoulder. "Eternian law requires that we fulfill the condemned's last request, no matter how ludicrous."

"But–"

"No 'buts,' husband. In this regard, we must not allow ourselves to think of Evil-Lyn as an enemy. If it is the Dereskian's last wish to see her daughter, we cannot deny it," the Queen stated with a cool voice that even Duncan found compelling.

Even so, Man-at-Arms looked at his queen, amazed. "I cannot believe that you're taking her side in this, my Lady."

"It isn't a question of taking sides, Duncan," Marlena said softly. "This is about upholding the law. …And… maybe… I feel I understand her a little. At least… I know how I would feel if I was about to die and someone would not let me see Adam one last time." She looked slowly at her husband, and watched the inner turmoil evident in her husband's expression. After a long moment, the King sighed roughly and nodded.

The King turned his attention to Man-at-Arms. "The law must be upheld, Duncan. See to it that the request is granted."

Though not without a bit of resentment, Duncan nodded. "Yes, Your Highness." Idly, he grumbled to himself, "though how we're going to contact Evil-Lyn, Elders only know."

Randor sat once more on his throne and sighed, waving his hand in dismissal. "Somehow, I'm sure Lady Moria has that taken care of."

Even at that very moment, Evil-Lyn was arriving just outside the palace walls, slipping up from the ground as if she owned it, the palace, and the very planet around her. On the battlements outside the palace, the various guards saw her and rushed around, gathering their weapons. To Lyn, they seemed to flutter about like j'vars with their heads cut off. Pathetic. Idly, she stood outside the gates, knowing very well that she could enter at any time, but she waited for them to let her in. The knowledge that these often enemies of her had to let her in was far sweeter than simply breaking in.

She had progressed much, majickly, since her mother's capture. She was now completely independent of her staff, and was well on her way to mastering voiceless spells. Soon, she would not need to speak at all when spellcasting. An astonishing improvement, she considered, since only two years ago she'd had little idea that majicks could even be accessed without using a rhyming incantation. Her mother had taught her well.

This thought gave Lyn pause, and she almost didn't see that the doors to the gates were opening. She glanced upwards and saw Teela standing on the battlements directly above her. With a strangely pleased, cocky grin on her face, Moria's daughter waved smugly up at the redhead. Teela looked down on her in disgust, but Lyn noticed that there was also a touch of something else in the young captain's gaze. Jealousy? Evil-Lyn's grin widened as she stepped through the gates into the Eternian city. Interesting. Now what would Teela have to be jealous of her for?

Man-at-Arms was waiting for her inside the city, along with a small contingency of guardsmen. He did not look pleased to see her. Gruffly, he gave the barest nod at her presence, as if her were trying to do the least amount of niceties possible while still doing them. "Welcome to Eternos, Evil-Lyn," he growled irritably, not sounding the least bit welcoming.

Lyn smiled pleasantly at him, her short-cropped hair fluttering slightly as she nodded in return. "Man-at-Arms," she stated politely, loving every second of his discomfort. "Where is my Mother?" She questioned, frowning when she noticed that Moria was not with the King's advisor.

"She's in her cell," he replied tersely. The unspoken 'where she should be' hung in the air like a heavy fog. "I am to escort you to her and then leave the two of you alone until the sun sets."

Lyn glanced at the position of sun in the sky, noting with interest at how close in proximity the Red Moon seemed to be to it. Sunset would occur in about three candle marks. "Very well," she stated flatly, her features settling into a sangfroid that was too reminiscent of her mother's mannerisms for Man-at-Arms' taste.

Man-at-Arms nodded, making a signal to his guardsmen. Lyn arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, falling in step between the guards and her unenthusiastic guide.

Outwardly, Moria's daughter strode with purpose, her head held high and her steps strong and confident. Inside, she was squirming. Now that she was nearing her mother's cell, she was getting increasingly nervous. Moria had intended to be captured, of that Lyn was sure. As was she certain that Moria remained captive of her own volition. The fact that she had summoned her daughter to her meant that she needed Lyn's help. Obviously, she had some plan in motion. Evil-Lyn just wished she knew what. She was well aware of everything that had transpired since Moria's capture; she had watched it in her mother's viewing pool. She had practically screamed in outrage when her mother had been condemned, and had been ready to storm the palace herself when the Sorceress, of all people, was announced as her executioner. Only the knowledge that her mother must be up to something stopped her. Now, here she was, on the verge of discovering what everything was about… and yet she paused. Really, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know. There was a certain safety in not knowing.

As they entered the corridor leading to Moria's cell, Lyn swallowed invisibly. Safety was about to be thrown out the window.

The doors of the corridor opened, and Evil-Lyn could see her mother in her cell. Moria stood tall, her hair swept cleanly away from her face and her back straight, her eyes staring directly at Lyn. She smiled when her daughter returned the gaze. Hello, Moritënia.

Hello, Morämé, Lyn answered in kind.

Man-at-Arms opened the door to Moria's cell, and, not even thinking about it, Lyn stepped within it. The guards then sealed the door and left the room, but not before Man-at-Arms shot them a look of pure venom. Lyn was almost tempted to reciprocate, and Moria must have sensed this, for she looked directly at Man-at-Arms as her glared at them.

"Thank you, Duncan," she stated coolly, her voice emotionless and flat. "Leave us."

He muttered something not very polite, and then did as she asked, only after ensuring that the cell's power setting was at the highest possible. Finally, the doors closed behind him, and Moria Vadorian and her child were at last alone.

When the footfalls of Duncan's boots were inaudible to keen ears, Moria let go of her façade. She slumped forward, leaning heavily against the bars of her cell and letting out a slight gasp of pain.

"Morämé!" Lyn exclaimed, instinctively reaching out to aid her mother.

The elder woman refused the help, groaning gently in a combination of fatigue and pain as she straightened herself. "Do not worry yourself, my daughter," she whispered in Dereskian, her words so faint that Lyn had to strain her ears to hear them. "This cell is draining more out of me than I thought it would."

"But your power replenishes itself!" Evil-Lyn said, confused, ignoring her mother's protests and helping her to remain upright.

Moria smiled softly at her child. "The replenishing is fueled by the light of the Red Moon, dear," she stated, shaking off the weakness and straightening her shoulders. "It does not do much good if I cannot see the Moon, now does it?" She smiled again, this time genuinely. "It is good to see you, Moritënia."

"Why have I come, Mother? What do you want me to do?" Lyn's brow was furrowed in curiosity. For though she was apprehensive about whatever her mother's plan, she also knew that it would be like nothing else she'd ever done or seen.

The elder Dereskian let out the tiniest of sounds. It could have been a laugh or a stifled sigh. It is possible that even Moria herself did not know. As it was, she could not bear to look into the eyes of her child. She answered the question, and Lyn's reaction was, unsurprisingly, not much different than the Sorceress' had been.

And so Moria explained the reasoning behind why Lyn was to do nothing. She spoke of her original vision, of how she had willingly changed the future she Saw, and of how she was ready to meet the punishment for doing such. Her daughter argued loudly for a while, and then she swore, and, after a long while, she eventually listened. Until finally, her mother ran out of things to say.

Lyn sat in silence for several moments, digesting everything she had heard. And then she asked a very simple question. "Is the Sorceress' life really so much more important than your own?"

Her mother looked at her amazedly, as if her daughter was speaking some other language. "I did not do all of this to save the Sorceress, Moritënia. I did it to save you."

"What?" The young woman's eyes were wide. "But the Sorceress–"

"I care for the Sorceress, yes. I'd protect her with my life, if necessary, yes. But you're my child, Moritënia. I could never let anything happen to you." Moria caressed Lyn's cheek as her daughter looked at her, stunned. "This… this was the only way I could save you both."

Lyn just stared at her. "…But…."

"Moritënia. This is the only way."

Far down the corridor, the faint sound of boots on metal could be heard as the guards stirred outside the chamber. Lyn's eyes closed, and as around them the prison to slowly come alive with movement, she rested her head on Moria's shoulder. "…Is it time already?" the younger asked, even though she knew the clanging of footsteps walking ever closer could mean nothing else.

Moria looked sorrowfully down the corridor, watching almost helplessly as the doors opened to reveal the guards, and for a moment, she held her child closer to her chest. "…It is."

Her daughter opened her eyes and just lay in her mother's embrace as Moria's hand slid through her short hair. The guards came ever nearer, and as the footsteps finally entered the main chamber, the young Dereskian met the eyes of her mother. "Morämé?" she questioned quietly, though what she was going to ask, neither of them really knew.

The Ancient woman looked at her daughter thoughtfully, caressing her cheek as only a mother can before finally speaking. "Lyn… most people on this planet will not remember me as I was. They will twist what facts they think they know, distorting any semblance of tenderness or goodness that I may have had. …Remember me as I was, Moritënia. Do not glorify me; do not turn me into a martyr or a saint. I am neither, " She paused for a moment, wiping away the stream of red falling down her child's cheeks, and not caring that tears fell unfettered down her own. "I'm sorry, Lyn. I'm sorry that I wasn't a better mother."

"You were a fine mother, Morämé," Lyn countered quietly, her head feeling heavy as it lay against her mother's shoulder. "You've loved me since I was born, even if I didn't know it. Not everyone can say the same. There are worse mothers in the world than you," she finished softly, pulling back a little to look at her mother for what would be the last time.

Moria held her child close to her until the guards approached the doors, standing at the operating mechanism and indicating it was time for Lyn's exit. "My dear Moritënia… I could not have asked for a better daughter," she whispered, kissing Lyn's forehead tenderly.

They said nothing more aloud, but the expressive features of their eyes said all that was needed. The doors to Moria's cell opened, and Lyn ever so slowly exited, her eyes locking with her mother's until the last possible moment. Moria reached through the bars as they closed once more, caressing her child's cheek one more time, whispering words that would stay engraved into Lyn's mind until the day she died.

A single pull from the guards, then, and Evil-Lyn woefully departed, paying no mind to whether or not the Eternians saw her tears or not. The guards left with her daughter, and the minute the doors closed, Moria knew that Lyn had vanished into the floor and escaped to her haven in the Sands of Time. She would never see her again.

Now alone once more in the vast empty space of her cell, the Ancient Queen let her tears gather as they fell down her cheeks, and turned back to the wall. The words she had whispered to her child echoed around her, filling the empty room.

"…I love you."