Chapter 43: Forsworn Oaths

-Thessia, undisclosed location

The powerful and mysterious woman sat, motionless, and listened to the cool breeze whisper through the leaves that hung loosely on the trees surrounding her. It was late in the night, and she had come out to this particular part of the forest to breathe in the fresh air and relax her weary bones, as she often did at this time in the evening. Since her childhood, she had played and danced in these trees, and now that she was nearing the end of her life, she returned here to meditate and reflect upon the years now behind her.

Justicar Marisa was eight hundred and fifty three years old, and was considered one of the most accomplished of her order. She stood well over six feet tall, which was unusual for her kind, and her facial markings were light; striping across her cheeks in an almost tiger-like fashion. She wore a simple, but elegant, black ensemble of leather armor, and carried only a small six inch blade as her weapon of choice, a holdover from… a darker time in her life.

Now she spent most of her days in reflection, as she no longer had any desire to leave the planet and right wrongs across the galaxy, like some of her brethren did until their deaths. Her task had been fulfilled, and she was now content to remain on the asari home world, traveling the forests and contemplating her life and actions. She occasionally taught the tenets and code to new asari who sought to join the ranks of the elite law bringers, but lately she had not been able to find any peace in even that. Sometimes she was contacted by the Obsidian Order to correct an injustice and render judgment, but they had managed to keep their house relatively clean over the last half century and so her recent days had been rather… quiet and lonely.

She opened her eyes at the feel of footsteps approaching her. There were at least… four… individual gaits from what she could sense from the vibrations along the ground. That was interesting. It was not often than one would attempt to stealthily approach a meditating Justicar and even more seldom that they would do so in such numbers. One could never predict how a Justicar would react, and so most tended to be very direct in getting one's attention, lest they be on the receiving end of an unpleasant execution of justice.

Whoever it was, they must either be incredibly naive… or perhaps merely foolish. Marisa closed her eyes again, and pretended not to notice their approach. She waited calmly, quietly, until the four had nearly advanced to her location, and then used the force of the biotic mass she had been channeling to vault off the ground, flipping backwards and sailing gracefully through the air to land just behind them. She quickly picked out the leader of the group, a young maiden that wore three stripes on the hem of her gown, signifying she was a third century acolyte and was just on the cusp of being fully inducted into the order. Marisa silently drew her blade, put her arm around the girl's waist almost as a lover would, and placed the weapon just underneath the girl's chin.

"Pray tell, who is it that so impolitely interrupts the meditations of a Justicar?"

"Please, please, we were sent! We were sent! The Lady calls! The Lady calls!"

Marisa could feel the girl's fear, and her eyes started to darken as her arm tightened around the younger asari and the sweet scent of blood reached her senses. She had been a little too careless with the blade, and it had lightly pricked the maiden's skin, coaxing the faintest trail of the woman's life essence from her veins. Marisa closed her eyes, and for a second, nearly lost herself in the fires that consumed her in her youth, those unruly flames that forged her body and soul into the machine of destruction she had become.

But she was a Justicar now, and even though she had decided to leave the life of traveling behind, she could not give in to fury and passion and seduce this young maiden, not anymore. She was no longer the vicious and carnal creature forged in the night by those who stole her innocence. Marisa relaxed her grip on the knife, and threw the maiden away from her, spinning the unfortunate woman into the arms of her companions. She took a small cloth out of a pocket in her leather armor, and cleaned the blood off her blade.

"Why do you approach me, in silence, in the middle of the night, in such numbers?"

"We… I am sorry, Justicar. We were told to come get you and bring you directly to the Lady of the Temple. It is a matter of… some importance."

Is it now…

"What is this matter that is so important that the Lady felt the need to send four acolytes to their deaths?" She tried to keep her face impassive, but the side of her mouth did turn up slightly in amusement at the look of horror that passed over the girls' faces. Of course, she had no reason to kill the four, as stupidity was not a punishable offense according to the Code, but there was nothing to stop her from scaring the maidens a little. Her brethren might not approve, but they weren't here right now.

"She… I'm… We really don't know, Justicar. Lirilith sent us to get you and bring you to the Lady. She wouldn't say why. Please don't kill us! We haven't broken any laws, I promise!"

Marisa stared at the four, who were huddled together, terrified of the elder asari and what she might do. The leader of the group stood out in particular. The woman had strange triangle markings all across her forehead, neatly in a line. The Justicar had never seen anything like it. It almost looked like a crown, and her eyes were drawn to the trail of blood that was making its way down the young woman's neck, and settling at a point just in the center of her breasts as it passed out of sight. In her younger days, before becoming a law bringer, such a sight would have sent Marisa into a frenzy. Now, it was merely the shadow of an interest, long since numbed and forgotten as the long years of abstinence dominated the flames that once burned in her core.

She returned the blade to its sheath in a single, simple movement, and nodded once at the terrified girl.

"Very well then. I suppose we should not keep the Lady waiting. I will accompany you to the High Seat."

The leader of the acolytes breathed a visible sigh of relief, grabbed the hands of two of her sisters, and nearly ran back to the Temple, as Marisa walked slowly behind them, silently laughing.

-Thessia, Temple of Athame

Marisa stepped into the small marble room, and sat down on the floor to wait. She had arrived at the Temple hours after her escort of acolytes, the young girls having been so frightened they ran the entire way here. She allowed herself a short smile, and then began her meditations, calling upon the biotic energy that rested deep within her soul.

It was not until the next day that she was approached by a servant of the Lady, but this woman was far more intelligent than the four girls who had been sent to fetch her. This woman stood in the doorway, and loudly announced herself. Marisa dismissed her biotic field, and stood. The woman nodded at her, and then walked into the small marble room, closing the door behind her. She moved over to the wall, and pressed in six secret locations. She stepped back as the wall fell away and a spiral staircase was revealed.

Marisa knew the drill. She had been to the Lady's chambers several times over the centuries, the religious sect often turning to her in matters of judgment. Though she was not required to by asari law, she removed her small blade and laid it in an alcove on the wall out of respect for the revered mother. Then, she descended into the black depths, calling on her biotics to light the way as the stone door slid shut behind her once more, leaving her in darkness. The servant did not accompany her to the High Seat.

The stairwell was long, and it took Marisa several minutes to reach the ground level. She walked through the small tunnel that connected the Lady's chambers to the entrance, and dismissed her biotic field as she entered the brightly lit main room. As with all of her previous visits, the Temple high priestess was sitting in her simple chair of marble, expressionless. Marisa kneeled at the woman's feet and addressed her.

"Revered Mother, it is good to see you again."

The woman turned her icy stare to the kneeling asari, and her eyes softened. "Get off your knee, Justicar. We have no time for formalities." The high priestess stood and embraced the younger woman. "I know you are not allowed to ask, but your mother is well. I've just left her tending to the gardens. You should think very seriously about leaving this life behind, Marisa. We will not be around forever, you know, and with every day that passes, the time draws nearer. She so wishes to see you again."

Marisa bowed her head so that the older woman wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. By rights, she shouldn't even be here, having sworn to leave behind all worldly possessions as well as family. But, this was a special circumstance, and the rules were different when it came to the head of the Order of the Obsidian Oculus, the woman who held the High Seat of Athame. That she happened to be Marisa's 'father', was not important. The High Seat had the right to invoke the services of any Justicar she chose, and she often chose Marisa.

The Justicar felt a little bit of regret for the choices she had made. Her parents were perfect, the very image of what a couple in love should be, and they cherished her more than anything. They had met when they were both maidens, barely a hundred years old, and had been together their entire lives. Marisa had come shortly after they bonded, and her parents doted on her and gave her everything her heart desired. But, like many children who are confused and need to find themselves, she was restless and wanted more. When she reached one hundred years old herself, she disappeared, not to be seen again by her family until the one day the Lady had sent for the nearest Justicar in proximity to the Temple to render judgment on a vandal who had defaced a statue of Athame, and it happened to be her daughter. Marisa would never forget the look of shock on the high priestess's face when she was once again reunited with her own eyes.

"I cannot respond to that comment, Lady."

"Yes, yes, I know. I know. Still, you should consider it. We are both nearing the thousand year mark, child, and you really should meet your sisters. When we are gone, all you will have is each other, and it will not be long now. I have already started the process of choosing a new High Seat. Soon I will no longer be able to invoke the Temple's agreement with the Justicar Academy to see you."

Marisa lifted her head, but did not respond. She could not respond.

The high priestess of Athame considered the stoic face of her oldest child. "Well, you certainly are a better Justicar than you were a daughter. I suppose you are right, though. We have more important things to discuss, anyway."

"What is it you require, High Priestess?"

The woman returned to her marble chair, and once again her face was a stone cold and impassive mask.

"Justicar Marisa, I need you to track someone, and report to the Temple on all her movements and all of her actions. This is a matter of the utmost importance."

"Is this a matter of Justice?"

"It is not. This is a matter of Faith, and as is my right I am requesting your assistance in this matter."

Marisa was a little surprised, but intrigued. It had been long since she'd had any real adventures; most of her time either being spent in meditation or listening to incredibly boring arguments and counter arguments before rendering a judgment. This promised to be entertaining, if nothing else.

"What do you require of me?"

"Someone has been marked." The high priestess watched the Justicar's reaction closely, wondering if the younger woman would understand the implications of the revelation. She was not disappointed.

"Marked? Do you mean… The mark? Her mark? She has chosen someone for herself?"

The elder asari nodded. "She has, and I need you to track this individual down, and if possible, find out why she was marked. I also need you to find out what you can about her companions, but that won't be easy. There is a second player in this little drama that bears the demon mark and has apparently attached herself to a member of the Silver Hand of Palladium. I have spent many days trying to track down leads among the other religious leaders, but the humans aren't talking, and Lirilith has already made enough of a scene stationing her acolytes on the Citadel like an amateur. This needs to be a discreet operation."

"But, surely this job would be better suited for someone else... I know nothing of asari theology and even less about the deities of other races... This is not the sort of thing that a Justicar does… "

"Marisa, I am not asking you because of your Justicar background or because I want you to figure out what Athame is up to… I am asking you because of your other talents… and because I can trust this with no one else. It is imperative that we get this information."

Marisa closed her eyes, and bowed her head. Her 'father' knew of the time she spent in the Order of the Black Wing. She hadn't been surprised the first time the high priestess had made a passing comment about her 'other' talents. The Temple had limitless resources and her parents would have been able to keep tabs on her, even while she was hidden among the thieves and assassins. It was foolish to think that perhaps, somehow, her indiscretion had gone unnoticed. She regretted her time spent there now. Perhaps, her life would have turned out differently, if that day had never happened…

-Memories

She had been playing in the trees, a little game of hide and seek she had developed on her own. She would select a target, often some sort of small animal or an insect that would easily spook, and focus solely on that creature. She would silently dart in and out of the shadows, advancing on her prey, and as she approached, she would gauge how far out of hiding she could push before giving herself away. It was a silly game, sneaking up on animals in the forest the way she did, but she spent most of her time alone, the other children in her class thinking her too strange to include in their group games. It didn't help that her parents were both acolytes at the Temple, and many times she had wished she had been born as anyone else in the world so she could have had friends, and maybe even lovers.

But that was not to be her fate. She was an outcast, and as such, she passed the long hours alone in the forest, making friends with the shadows and bedding down with the night. This was how she spent her time after graduating from the asari maiden training that all young women were expected to complete. Day after day, she came here and slipped in and out of the trees, dancing with the darkness and stepping in and out of the moonlight. Night after night, she spent her time alone, honing her natural skills and dreaming away the hours, as a silent figure stood in the distance, and watched.

It was one such bright and clear night on which her life was to change forever. One small event was to send her spiraling into an endless cycle of vicious hatred and revenge, and it would be centuries before she would be able to put it behind her.

On this particular night she danced in and out of the trees as the shadowy figured watched, and waited. One step over the next, she slipped in and out of the rays of moonlight that shone through the leaves. Her eyes were closed, as she didn't need to see where she was going, having long ago memorized every slight nuance about this forest. She knew every step, and every foothold; every place where the moonlight disturbed the velvet night. She knew the feel of every tree against her hands, and the level of flex each could endure before snapping back as she pushed away and spun to her next location. She weaved her way through the trees, slowly and silently approaching the large purewood that was her nightly stopping point. The figure watched, as the magnificent specimen of stealth effortlessly twirled in the moonlight, and when the young maiden had reached her goal at the end of the forest, she sprang into action and pinned the suddenly frightened woman against the large tree.

"You have the gift," the night figure whispered, wrapping her arms around the dancer and holding the woman's hands firmly behind her back.

"I… who are you?" Marisa was immobilized if not by the mysterious figure's body pinning her; then surely by the almost dusky skin and stark black eyes, uncharacteristic of their kind, intently searching her own light blue. Her assailant was as tall as she was, as strong as the purewood she had her back to, and as dangerous as the night. Marisa knew in her mind that she should be screaming, or running, or trying to escape the steel grip that held her, but it was strangely exhilarating to be so commanded by another… The maiden felt her body starting to betray her, responding of its own volition to the stranger's unspoken demands.

The figure did not reply, instead studying the younger woman's face from every angle, weaving her head slowly back and forth in a seductive and almost snakelike way, inhaling the young maiden's scent and committing the moment to memory. It had been hundreds of years since someone exhibited the gift in such unadulterated and magnificent form, and this was not an opportunity the Order of the Black Wing could afford to let pass by. She noticed the effect her movements were having on the young maiden, and was surprised at the sudden realization that the girl had never before joined.

'Perhaps, though,' she reflected, 'it should not be so surprising. Those of us with the gift are often… shunned…" She recalled her own induction into the Order so many centuries ago, by an instructor who had not been so very different than she was now… and she softly inhaled in anticipation. The young woman's form felt so exquisite against her, and she could almost taste the fear and curiosity that radiated from the maiden's mind as her body instinctively responded to the crackling electricity in the air and the master assassin's subtle movements.

"You do not belong here," she whispered, as she adjusted her leverage and placed the woman's arms around her own back. She gripped the bark of the tree and pulled herself forcefully against the maiden, seductively lowering her eyes and leaning close. Marisa's mind was screaming at her to resist, but just as she thought she had found the will to use her arms to push the stranger away, a low growl escaped the assassin's throat, sending lightning through her. "You belong with us… you belong with me…" The figure's face nearly disappeared into the night as she closed her eyes and descended upon the maiden's lips, feeling the trembling woman grip into her back with the ferocity and passion that presented itself only in those who had the Dark Mother's favor.

Marisa didn't know what to do. Her senses were reeling and she couldn't understand this deep and very insistent attraction for the dusky skinned and much older asari. Her eyes involuntarily switched to obsidian, and she lost all sense of time and all thought of resistance as she felt the mysterious stranger enter her mind, and pull her body down into the soft grass. Marisa blacked out and offered up her soul as she completely surrendered to the dangerous and shadowy figure that had approached her in the darkness.

The young maiden would never be the same again.

-Thessia, Temple of Athame

"Marisa, I need you to focus."

The Justicar forced her mind back into the present and shook her head a little to clear it. She could not let the past start to haunt her again. Those days were behind her, and she had to let them go.

"I apologize, Lady. Please, continue."

"I need you to track her movements, and find out what she is doing here. See what information you can get about the others as well. The Demon and the Hand are currently together, though that may change."

"Very well, Lady. In accordance with asari Law and the Justicar Code, I accept this task. Who is the Marked, and where will I find the Demon and the Hand?"

"The Marked is a human named Darla Vance and she is here on Thessia. The Demon is the daughter of Benezia T'Soni. She currently is located on a starship commanded by the Hand, a human named Jane Shepard. I trust that will be all you need to get started."

Marisa's eyes widened in shock. "A human was Marked? Surely you must be joking. Are you sure you haven't mixed her and the Demon up?"

The high priestess's face remained impassive. "I assure you, Justicar, I am not joking. Athame has marked a human as her consort, and we need to know why. She is currently here on Thessia, working as a bodyguard to Matriarch Terriana. I feel certain the matriarch is somehow involved in all of this as well, but though I have reviewed all the ancient texts, I cannot find anything that explains to me why. I found a small bit of information regarding the Demon, but it was vague. I have no information on the Hand. The humans have not been cooperative."

"Terriana? This gets stranger and stranger, Lady. Why does she work for Terriana, and why does the matriarch not have commando bodyguards?"

"No one knows, Justicar. She had Yhamira for a short time, who as I understand is one of the best available and freshly graduated from training, but she dismissed her after only a couple weeks. This human has been handling her security, and the two are almost always seen together. There are some… rumors… as well, but we have not been able to confirm whether or not they are lovers. This is where you come in, Marisa. You are the only one I know of, and more importantly, the only one I can trust, to get close enough without being noticed. I would entrust this knowledge to nothing less than a Justicar, but for a mission as delicate as this one, we require nothing less than an assassin..."

Marisa closed her eyes, and nodded. No matter how much it pained her every time her 'father' said that word, she could not deny her dark past. "Very well then, Lady. I accept."

The high priestess smiled, and reached for Marisa, but the Justicar had already turned and covered the distance through the tunnel to the staircase. The Lady sat there for a few moments more, hand outstretched, until she heard the sound of stone sliding open, and then sliding shut. Her daughter was once again gone.

She sighed, and motioned to the wall behind her. The stone there slid away to reveal an aging asari, who approached the stone chair and climbed up to sit on the high priestess's lap. She wrapped her arms around her mate's neck, and closed her eyes sadly.

"She looks so young, Siri."

"I know she does, my love," the Lady of the Temple replied, as she gently stroked the smaller woman's head. "She looks like you."

"Why doesn't she see how much we miss her?"

"She does, my heart, she does. She is still punishing herself for… something. I wish we knew what. She will have to think in earnest now though. I revealed to her that I must appoint a new High Seat. She will do the right thing, before the end. And if she doesn't, I am sure that Sarisa will seek her out and get her to see reason."

High Priestess Siri looked down at the woman she had loved for well over eight hundred years of her life, and sighed softly, trying to hold in her tears. "I am weary, my love. Let us retire."

She felt the woman nod into her shoulder and grip her tightly. Siri gathered her mate up in her arms, kissed the woman on her forehead, and carried her into their private rooms.