Chapter Fifty Seven

Darker Destiny

ELSA

If this was another dimension, there was no indication of it. Yet. Elsa's eyes swivelled round discretely, scanning her surroundings. By her side, Janus did the same. They'd walked through the futuristic portal into a whole different world, as Anna claimed they would. This was supposedly Swynvort. And the only thing that distinguished it from their own earth's Swynvort was the fact that it was filled with sorcerers.

This couldn't possibly be their own world, since Swynvort had been taken by the Blue Wolves. The sorcerers had been evacuated. Swynvort was lost. But this one was not.

"I think it's real." Janus said in a low voice through the filters of his mask. "Anna was right. This is another world. Earth Seven."

"Incredible." Elsa whispered back. She'd never known what to think when Anna had told her that Eleanor sent them to another world during the Denmark occupation. Frankly, she'd chalked it up to shock on Anna's part and shoved it away into the recesses of her mind. Who would have guessed that Anna was right about it all?

New worlds, alternate realities, doppelgängers. It was a lot to take in.

"We have to keep out of sight." Janus said. "We can't afford for this earth's versions of ourselves to spot us."

Elsa nodded, eyes still glued to the training hall beneath them that was filled with sorcerers training. Trainers were walking between the groups of sorcerers, directing them and performing demonstrations. She recognised a version of Vonco with much longer hair and a far more cocky gait. And then one of Holli, but this version had a gothic look to her and looked nothing like the petite, friendly witch doctor back on their own earth.

She watched as a sorcerer threw a fatal looking blast of magic at a training board wall and stone chipped off, a good part of the wall disintegrating. This was followed by a round of applause and Vonco's doppelgänger slapping the sorcerer on the back in approval.

Things were different here. They felt worse. This Legion of Sorcerers were training to kill their enemies without mercy or restraint. Their goals weren't for justice and peace. They were out for blood and vengeance. Elsa felt her blood curdle and her lip curled involuntarily.

"Elsa." Janus hissed in a low voice.

Tearing her gaze away from the sorcerers below, she blinked and looked at Janus. "They're…they're all training to kill."

"Remember our mission." Janus reminded her. "We're not here to help or save them. They chose their paths here on this world. We need to get what we came for. Find Ingrid and get her to tell us about the Crimson Order."

"I hear you." Elsa nodded slowly. She still couldn't fathom it. So there was a world where she didn't have the courage to stand up to Ingrid, and that resulted in a darker destiny for everyone. The Warriors didn't exist. No one fought for what was right. Her own sister Anna had written her off as good as dead. She shuddered.

"Are you alright?" Janus held her gently by the arm. "If you can't do this, it's okay. I'll talk to Ingrid. I'll find out what we need to know."

"No." Elsa swallowed a lump in her throat. "I'm okay. I can do this."

"I know its daunting and all, seeing how our lives could have turned out." Janus sympathised. "It's haunting me too. But we need to focus and get out of here as soon as we can."

Inhaling deeply, Elsa nodded again.

"Incoming." Janus hissed, and the duo straightened up.

A side door opened and three teenagers stepped out of the room and into the corridor. They stiffened when they turned and saw Elsa and Janus.

"Ma'am. Sir." The closest one barked stiffly. "Welcome back to Swynvort."

"Thank you." Elsa said, trying to sound as cold as possible.

"We didn't think you'd both be back this soon." The second one said, his voice quavering and giving away his fear. "Did you kill them?"

Elsa looked down her nose at him. "What?" In her mind, she was panicking. Kill who?

"The Duke of Weselton. Did you kill him?" The boy repeated shakily, sounding like he regretted asking the question.

"What do you think?" Elsa asked, her voice like ice. "Have we ever returned if we've failed?"

"No, Ma'am. I'm sorry." He said hurriedly.

"Please pardon my friend, Ma'am." The first sorcerer said hastily. "He's new. He's in awe of your reputations. Everyone's in awe of Prometheus and the Snow Queen."

"And rightfully so," Elsa said with as much haughtiness as she could muster. "Now get out of my sight."

The three sorcerers scrambled away quickly, careful not to get too close to Janus who watched them silently. When they were out of earshot, Janus turned to Elsa.

"So you do have a mean streak."

Deflating, Elsa rubbed her arms. "I hate doing that."

"Well you won't have to for much longer." Janus said. "Find Ingrid, and then get her to talk."

Elsa looked at him. "And you're not coming?"

"Someone needs to keep a lookout." Janus explained. "If our doppelgängers really return while we're still here and report straight to Ingrid, the game's up. We'll be captured and God knows what'll happen then. I've got to make sure that doesn't happen. Stall them if I need to."

"You can't fight your counterpart under any circumstances. Anna warned us that it might have serious repercussions on reality or something. We have no idea what we're messing with here."

"I'll be careful," Janus assured her, holding her close. "Just keeping a lookout while you talk to Ingrid. When you're done, I'll be right here waiting."

Elsa put a hand on his masked face, caressing his cheek. She gazed into his eyes - or where the eyeholes of his mask were - and knew that he was looking back into hers. Then, she forced herself to tear herself away from him and marched towards the stairs. There was no time to waste.

Climbing a set of spiral stairs, she was filled with not so pleasant memories of her time under Ingrid's thumb. Back when she had been blackmailed into being the Pilgrim's Apprentice. A depressing time. She scaled the stairs to where the upper chambers were, for that was where Ingrid used to hide out and hatch her nefarious plans.

If this version of Ingrid was anything like her own, then she would know about the Crimson Order. She had to. Their worlds were nearly identical apart from a couple of minor individual differences. According to Anna's device, the Crimson Order was not one of these differences. She didn't know how exactly the whole alternate realities system worked, but she was determined to make sure that she and Janus weren't going to stick around long enough to find out.

Elsa found the chamber that Ingrid had dubbed "the Throne Room" back during her reign, and rapped on the door.

"Come in." The scratchy drawl was chillingly familiar.

Elsa bristled. It'd been a very long time since she'd heard that voice, and she wasn't ready to confront her most personal enemy again. But she had no choice. Inhaling deeply, she pushed open the creaky door and shut it behind her.

There in the centre of the room stood Ingrid Grendstav with her back to Elsa. She was working on a potion of some sort, with a giant cauldron in the middle of the room as a familiar characteristic of the witch's schemes.

Elsa swallowed the tightness in her throat and called out in a confident voice. "Ingrid."

The Pilgrim turned around slowly, and Elsa fought down an urge to flinch. She was the splitting image of the witch Elsa had known back on her own world, down to the green deep set eyes, the crow's feet at the corners of those eyes, the greyed hair, faded porcelain skin and cracked lips that were pale and devoid of colour. The only difference was that this one looked less weathered and stronger than the Ingrid Elsa had known. Perhaps it was because this Ingrid wasn't plagued by a terminal illness which allowed her to continue her dominion.

However, Ingrid's build was just as Elsa remembered. A dark blue flowing cloak hid most of her features, but there was no hiding the fact that she was tall and thin, with bony fingers and long nails.

"Why are you staring at me as if you haven't seen me in years, child?" Ingrid intoned curiously. "You and Prometheus just left days ago."

"Sorry." Elsa shook her head. "It's nothing."

"You're back earlier than I expected." Ingrid turned back to her cauldron unsuspectingly. "I'd assumed that the assassination would take you a little longer." She paused. "Is it done?"

"Of course." Elsa said unfeelingly. "The Duke of Weselton is dead."

"Excellent." Ingrid gave a low cackle, making Elsa's hair at the back of her neck stand on end. "With the duke out of the way, there's nothing standing between the total collapse of Weselton's economy. Weselton shall finally answer for their many crimes. You've done well, sweetheart."

Elsa didn't know how to respond. "Thank you."

"Where's your lover?" Ingrid rounded on her. "Where's Prometheus?"

"He wasn't feeling well on the way back." Elsa lied. "He went straight to his room the moment we got back."

Ah." Ingrid dragged out the word. She looked at Elsa curiously for a long minute before finally speaking again. "Something's different. Something's different about you."

"What are you talking about?" Elsa tried to sound aloof, imitating Tracy's air of nonchalance. Her heart skipped a beat. Was the game over before it even began?

"You haven't worn this look in a long time." Ingrid's eyes travelled up and down.

"Oh." Elsa looked down at herself and realised the one crucial thing she and Janus had overlooked. Their attire. They didn't know what Earth Seven's versions of themselves preferred to wear. Stupid. Elsa held back from gritting her teeth.

She was dressed in a simple light blue blouse and grey tight leggings with boots, a light blue trench coat thrown over her shoulders. Her makeup was as it had always been: faint purple eyeshadow with eyeliner and red lipstick. The traditional French braid was still in place, so at least there was that. How different could her doppelgänger really look?

"I just wanted to go a little more old school." Elsa knew that her excuse was flimsy. "Frankly I missed this look."

Ingrid continued to study her quietly. Her green eyes seemed to penetrate right through Elsa. It made Elsa want to shift in discomfort, but she held her ground and levelled Ingrid's gaze coolly with a hint of defiance shining through.

Finally, Ingrid smiled. "Reminds me of the time when you first joined the Legion. A scared young woman unaware of her own potential. How you've grown and evolved into the Legion's greatest assassin; the feared Snow Witch."

Elsa forced herself to return an arrogant smirk. The Snow Witch? So that's what I'm called here on Earth Seven. It made her feel sick.

"So what do you want from me?" Ingrid asked. "I'm quite sure you didn't just come here to deliver your report of events."

"Quite right." Elsa lifted her head a fraction. Internally, she heaved a huge sigh. She'd managed to fool Ingrid. Somehow. "There was something I was hoping to ask you."

Ingrid looked intrigued. "And what's that?"

"Tell me about the Crimson Order." Elsa watched Ingrid's expression closely. A muscle jumped in the Pilgrim's face and her eyes narrowed.

"Interesting."

Elsa waited for further reactions, but there were none. She was beginning to wonder if her cover was blown and if this entire operation was a mistake. It was a risky gambit to begin with, coming here at all. What if we get caught and don't make it back to our world?

"Come, sit." Ingrid turned and motioned for Elsa to follow her. "I suspect we'd be talking about this for quite some time."

JANUS

Janus glanced at the spiral staircase again for what might have been the seventh time. It hadn't been long since Elsa parted ways with him to find Ingrid. The Pilgrim was no doubt in her "Throne Room". He forced himself to look away from the stairwell. It'd been a long time since he felt this way. Having to confront his past, but this time in such a strange way.

Who would've thought that he would have to come to an alternate reality to face his past as a villain? Here on this world, he and Elsa were criminals. Assassins. Killers. It made him think of a time when he was still a killer for hire, working without thought for morals and doing whatever needed to be done to finish a contract.

In truth, it hadn't exactly been that long. Just earlier this year, he was still working for the Empire before Elsa had helped him to see things clearly. If it wasn't for her, maybe he would still been a cold-blooded mercenary without any emotional attachments. Janus couldn't imagine himself that way anymore, now that he had spent the past few months with Elsa and the rest of the Warriors.

And now he was plunged back into the midst of evil. The Legion of Sorcerers. A far deadlier force than the League had ever been. He could only hypothesise how twisted this world's version of him was. Curiosity got the better of him, and he glanced at the staircase again. Elsa wasn't going to come down anytime soon. Not yet.

Janus crossed the corridor to where his quarters were. If Earth Seven was really that similar to their own, then it made sense that their rooms would be in the exact same places. He found his doppelgänger's room and tried the door. Locked.

Out from his pocket he produced a key. The key to his original room back on his own world. Sticking the key in the lock, he turned it. There was a click, and the door opened inwards. Janus walked in and closed the door behind him quietly. Technically this was his room, and no one would question him for looking around in his own quarters. Besides, if his reputation really was that widespread within the Legion, no one would want to mess with him anyway.

He surveyed the room. It looked almost identical to his own. Apparently his doppelgänger had his same organisation sense. Spare weapons were laid out neatly on the desk, knives, daggers and other smaller blades arranged by size. A couple of arrows lay on a nearby bench, the black fletchings still not attached yet. Two flintlock pistols lay beside them accompanied by a bag of black powder and an array of identical musket balls. A spare sword - a falchion - also stood in the corner of the room against the wall.

Other items that didn't belong to him were in the room too. Items that were of a more feminine nature. It was quite clear that this earth's versions of Elsa and himself shared this room. Behind his mask, he let a small smile form on his lips. It was nice to know that at least that was one thing that didn't change even across different realities. His feelings towards her.

"What are you doing here?"

Janus spun, his bow in hand. His heart dropped and he stiffened. The door had been opened silently and someone was standing in the doorway. His doppelgänger.

The other Prometheus wore tight fitting blacks but they were overlaid with metal plates which gave him more protection from hits or even musket shots. His joints had paddings and more blades than even Janus possessed. There were even curved spikes along his forearm gauntlets and shoulder plates that looked like they were a cuirassier's pauldron and gardbraces. Even his hood was different. It was made of leather instead of cloth like Janus'. The mask was more intimidating as well. It was black, but it bore more resemblance to a skull, which was supposedly meant to strike fear into his enemies.

As for weapons, Prometheus had a number of flat throwing stars holstered across his chest together with a bandolier of ammunition. A thick compound bow was slung over his back together with a quiver of black fletchings that were not unlike Janus'. Two pistols were holstered at his waist along with a scabbard holding a falchion sword similar to the one standing in the corner. It was safe to assume that this version of Prometheus was as competent or perhaps even more lethal than himself.

"I said," Prometheus' voice was a low growl, disturbingly identical to his own. "What are you doing here in my room?" He took a moment to size Janus up. "Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"No." Janus said cautiously, his voice matching Prometheus' perfectly.

"Who are you?" Prometheus demanded, hand on his pistol and the other clutching his bow tightly. "Why are you dressed like me? Who put you up to this?"

"I can't answer that." Janus inched towards the table slightly. The blades were laid out nicely, ready for the taking. He wouldn't want to waste his own if it came to a duel. "I'm not here to fight."

"You wear my mantle and claim to come in peace?" Prometheus drew his flintlock pistol and thumbed back the hammer. "I asked you a question. Who are you and why are you dressed like me?"

Damn it. Janus knew he couldn't possibly mention anything about alternate realities to his doppelgänger. Anna had said that it was too dangerous and could cause any number of repercussions. Well, this was hardly his fault, was it? How should he have known that his counterpart would be back so soon?

"Coincidence." Janus said.

"I don't believe that. Why are you in my room? How did you bypass the lock?" Prometheus inched nearer, pistol levelled.

Janus stared back at him unflinchingly.

"Alright then." Prometheus pulled the trigger.

There was a pink white flash and a loud crack, and Janus watched the musket ball fly out of the pistol's nozzle. Instead of lunging out of the way, Janus simply pivoted on his foot and swung himself sideways, knowing the musket ball would breeze inches right past his body.

As the bullet whizzed past, he drew an arrow, nocked it and let fly. His doppelgänger snatched the arrow out of the air. Stupid, Janus gritted his teeth behind the mask. Prometheus has my training, skills, tactics…everything. How could he not have reacted that way, considering I would do exactly the same?

"Impressive." Prometheus tossed aside the arrow. "And where did you learn to do that?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Janus dropped into a defensive stance.

"You'd be surprised." Prometheus threw aside his pistol and suddenly lunged, unhooking the compound bow from his back and driving the riser straight at Janus' neck.

He faded sideways, catching Prometheus' wrist with his off hand and slamming his own bow against his doppelgänger's wrist. The compound bow dropped out of Prometheus' hand, but the other forearm studded with curved spikes smashed into Janus' ribs, doubling him over.

Janus put a hand to his side, where the weapons had drawn some blood. Crimson red began to stain his tight blacks.

"The way you move," Prometheus adjusted his gauntlet. "Is disturbingly familiar."

"The feeling's mutual." Moving like lightning, Janus rammed his shoulder into Prometheus' midsection. Bulling him against the wall of the room, plaster chipped off and powdered the two mercenaries' black outfits. The air was forced out of Prometheus, but he quickly countered by driving both elbows into Janus' back.

Janus faltered slightly, and caught an upwards knee before it reached his sternum. He hooked his arm underneath Prometheus' leg and before he could counter, Janus tackled his doppelgänger to the ground. Prometheus slammed his forearm into Janus' sternum with brute force and Janus coughed, the wind knocked out of him.

Both men disengaged, scrambling to their feet. They both studied each other quietly and meticulously through their impassive masks. By now, Prometheus obviously knew something was wrong here. Their fighting styles were identical, the only difference being that Prometheus was more willing to execute more brutal and fatal manoeuvres.

Janus clenched his jaw. Have I gone soft? Or is it just that this earth's version of myself is more unhinged and cruel? He hoped it was the latter.

He studied his counterpart's stance. Sure footed, prime to strike. The falchion was drawn. Prometheus was probably aiming for a feint and a follow up with an a strike from his off hand. It was precisely what Janus would do in a situation like this.

This was beyond uncomfortable but the fact was that Janus couldn't see past the black mask and hood. Was that how others saw him back on his own world? Did Elsa see him that way? A soulless mercenary when he put the mask on?

And then there was the circumstances. He'd fought competent opponents. Other mercenaries. Assassins. Warlords. Vin Edgardo. Melody. Kane. All of whom he'd managed to best in combat - if not on the first try, then on the second. But this was different. Prometheus was trained and equipped in exactly the same way he was, with the same techniques, same strategies, same instincts, but with the intent to kill. How can I beat myself?

Without warning, Prometheus threw one of his thin, sharpened stars at Janus. Instinctively, Janus threw out one of his plain daggers to intercept the throwing star. Metal clanged upon metal and both weapons fell away uselessly, disrupted by each other in mid air.

Prometheus lunged, and Janus caught him around the waist, using his own momentum to swing him as hard as he could across the room. The doppelgänger crashed against the side of the bed and faded to the side just as Janus came down with his elbow. His arm hit plush cushion, and he took a boot to the jaw.

Blinking away the stars, Janus ignored the pain shooting through his face and brought his katana up to bear as Prometheus' falchion came down fast and hard. He parried and riposted, but he knew that his doppelgänger would be able to avoid it easily. Sure enough, Prometheus swung himself out of harm's way, returning with yet another counterstroke.

Janus ducked beneath the falchion's blade and sprung up, gloved fist connecting with his opponent's jaw. Now they were even. As Prometheus dropped the falchion and took a step back in a daze, Janus used his forward momentum and lifted off the ground. Then he brought his body down upon the doppelgänger, aiming for his collarbone.

But Prometheus was too quick. He hooked his own arm inside Janus' guard as he descended, and used his own momentum against him. Twisting his body, he sent Janus flying against the wall. Janus tumbled and grunted, moving just as Prometheus' boot hit the ground where his head had been.

Rolling to his feet, Janus slashed at the tendons of Prometheus' legs. Or would have. Prometheus back-pedalled, producing a curved blade of his own. Bulling forward, the two clashed again, katana against dagger. With his off hand, Prometheus managed to wrestle the katana out of Janus' grip, and swiftly put the dagger to Janus' neck, pushing him up against the wall with a spiked gauntlet against his collarbone.

"Very impressive." Prometheus said. He was breathing only slightly heavily. "Not many last this long. I want to know who you are."

Slowly, Janus discreetly lifted a hand to draw a blade of his own from his holster. Eyes not leaving his, Prometheus slapped the hand away quickly. Then, Prometheus brought the dagger even closer to Janus' skin, drawing a drop of blood.

"Take off the mask and hood. Now."

Janus narrowed his eyes. With the blade to his throat and his doppelgänger anticipating his every move, he was left with no choice. Either he complied, or risked getting his throat slit. The game is up. And just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he heard a fondly familiar voice outside and high heeled footfalls.

"Sweetheart, what's going on in there?"