Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 42

It looked good on her. . . A little straightening, shortening to her chin. Yes. Manageable and clean. Yamma crunched her gloves in irritation, she was going to have to get her hands dirty. Reluctantly, she plowed her hands through the rest of the woman's hair- straightening it first and then infusing it's new color. Maybe something lighter was in order, though. Something to contrast her sharp features. Something tawny? No, a shade of hay blonde. Yes, she liked the memories of blonde Amaranth had.

Yamma was just about to change the stripe of brownish hair when Amaranth came back to life. Wide eyed and full of terror, she threw her hands out to shove Yamma away and scrambled back with a scattered gurgle of syllables choked off by the blood in her throat.

The cherub straightened out her jacket, dusted the already crusting hand print on her lapel and waited- oh, did she wait- for Amaranth to collect herself. The bloodied woman looked left and right in her would be death pit, clawing at her battered plate armor, at her throat. She opened her mouth wide and convulsed-

What the hell was she doing?

Yamma started to feel faint. A tightness in her chest. In her throat. Something was deeply wrong here. Amaranth scrabbled against her armor some more-

She was trying to breathe- oh! Yamma had forgot that part.

Oops.

So as not to appear panicked, Yamma shifted herself behind her charge and touched the woman's side. The divine spark of life swelled within and exploded into the mix of air and other substances mortals needed- Amaranth celebrated by doubling over and vomiting up the contents of her throat before she gagged down a load of rancid meat smelling air.

That forced Yamma to experience the stink of rotting meat and blood. She tried not to let it show as she shifted her presence back in front of the woman and clasped her hands behind her back lightly. "I have good news!"

Amaranth looked up with blank, glazed eyes. Did she even understand what she was being told? Had Yamma forgotten those parts too, somehow? No, surely not- she'd gotten there soon enough to preserve her mental functions.

"Good news, yes. Do you know what I am?"

The woman looked side to side shakily.

"You were dead, but the Holy Elisandra has seen to restore you to life for your years of dedica-" Amaranth vomited again. "-yes. It's exciting, I know. Ah- Are- are you all right?"

"Nguh-huh. . ."

That nagging sensation that Yamma forgot some vital piece cropped up again. "Yes, I know this is a trying moment, but allow me to be the first to welcome you to an eternity of service. My name is Yamma, I will be your direct connection to the Holy Elisandra and your advocate and guide in the application of your new gifts.

"We have a lot of ground to cover, but we'll start with the essentials." Yamma pointedly ignored the woman's bloodshot, exhausted stare. "You've agreed to serve your goddess, in return She's granted you all the tools you'll need to carry out that mission. You've also-"

"Ric- Rich- Richard," She coughed out.

In all this, she was still worried about her charge. . . She really was one of Elisandra's children. "I'm afraid he's dead-"

"N- No!"

"I did warn you," Yamma eased away as the woman clawed herself out of the gutter. In the blink of an eye she shifted herself to the crest of the hill. Amaranth was crawling to the form of a dead man who's skull cap had been cut off. She laid her head on his body and cried.

This was not going the way Yamma had imagined it would.

Flustered, the cherub paced while the new cleric emptied her heart into the man's back. Amaranth clutched the empty shell of a person that had been her lover, Markus, she whimpered entreaties in a tongue Yamma didn't understand and, more than anything, she burned daylight.

"We really should be going," Yamma started. "There are many things you have to learn before the first day-"

"Why?!"

Yamma was surprised when the woman wheeled on her, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. "Why what?"

"Why did you let them die?! If I couldn't protect them-"

"You did your best-"

"They still died! You said- You-" The woman scanned the ground left and right. Searching her memories. Yamma realized her own mistake the moment the half-elf opened her mouth. "You said I could save him! You said Richard was alive!"

"But-"

"You said he was alive! That- That I could help!" The woman wept over the corpse, her eyes were hollow and faded with a million pains beyond expression.

Yamma deliberately kept her link closed off from the woman; she was supposed to be abject compared to the divinity Yamma represented, but some part of the cherub wasn't ready to cast her that low- she felt the passion Isira had spoken of. Still, Yamma had to put the new cleric in her place. "I- I don't need to explain myself to you. You were chosen by your goddess because She needs you. Your service has been acknowledged! This should be the happiest day of your miserable life!"

Amaranth clutched the dead man protectively and wept into what was left of his cheek.

This cycle continued for several hours until the sunset finally washed away the evening and brought a veil of gloom over the forest. With it came the purr of crystalline structures in the clouds, moving so subtly no humanoid would see them and yet they brought a surge of energy that made the short hair on Yamma's physical body prickle. She shuddered unconsciously as she shifted towards her charge.

"Are you done?"

The look she got was venomous. Angry. A brief glimpse at their link spoke of nothing but hatred. Yamma ignored it. They had bigger problems. "I have given you as much time as I can, the time to make a choice is at hand; you're being charged by your patron to help Her in the eternal struggle against ignorance. She needs you to guide-"

"Why. . ."

Yamma looked at her flatly. "This is not going to help you-"

"Why did you lie to me? You said I could help them-"

"And you can. You will." Yamma lied. "There was no time to let you debate whether or not you would serve. We are only allowed to come to mortals when they're drawing their last breath- securing consent is a very time sensitive thing." She crouched down, careful not to wrinkle her suit. "You were bleeding to death, nothing I could have done would have prevented that or prolonged the inevitable. . .

"We serve the Holy Elisandra, Amaranth. We know the conditions that come with that, you knew She would call on you if She thought you were worthy. Even if the timing was inopportune. You should be happy, you-"

"Leave me. . ." The woman croaked. "Leave."

Yamma rose. "I can do that." She started to turn away but, feeling her charge's eyes upon her, she looked back. "You should know that if you snub Her invitation, I'll take back what was given to you- your second chance will go to someone who wants it and you will lay here with your men. . . Mostly."

Amaranth clutched Markus tighter. "W- What do you mean?"

She was careful. She danced around the topic using only the words she was allowed to by the collective and the terms of her service. "I'll be required to take back the spark that gives you life and since you and I are bound, that will mean I'll have to decouple myself in order to do so, so I can find another who wants this opportunity. . . That means your soul will be left to drift, lost to your body and unable to transcend to the gods' realm. Is that what you want?"

"Y- You tricked me. . ." Her voice came out as a haggard growl. Then she wept some more.

This was getting tiresome. "The gods chose their servants, Amaranth. Ammy." That got her attention. "But they are not without a sense of fairness to mortals. I'm authorized to give you a favor upon Her behalf for your service. . ." They watched one another for a moment. Yamma peeked into her mind; there was a burning image at the forefront. "Yes, her. The dragon's daughter. If you feel it would bring you peace, we can hunt her down."

For the moment Amaranth pacified herself with thoughts of revenge and how she'd enact it. It was trite, maybe, but it gave Yamma time to wrap up the other business. "You've been granted powers fitting your abilities and mentality, the Holy Elisandra has given you these gifts to carry out Her will, you'll never age from this moment forward and you'll never need to worry about getting sick. That's the good news. . ."

The half-elf stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. At least she was amiable about it.

"Mortal wounds can still kill you- in fact, if you're doing what you're meant to, you'll die much like you did right here rather than of old age." Yamma briefly considered letting her know about the laws of conservation, but decided they had other things to deal with at the moment. They needed to get some kind of shelter set up. "There is also the matter of channeling Her power. . . .something you should be familiar with by now; drawing clerics from paladins tends to be smoother. That ability will work differently now, but you can use it effectively forever if you so chose.

"From what I've gathered, your ability to channel protects! Quite useful and fitting, don't you think?" Yamma forced a smile she didn't feel as the woman looked at her hand. She seemed to remember how it'd been bent at a sideways angle before she died and so she looked away before sparing Yamma a glance.

"You still lied to me. . ."

"Would you rather I let you die? You're too valuable to us- to your goddess and to the world at large. I am not your friend, Amaranth, I am your guide. . . I was chosen specifically to bring you into the fold."

"What- what does She want of me?"

Yamma hesitated. She thought about what the Collective had told her; to turn her into a guardian of one of Elisandra's temples. And then she considered Isira's proposal. . .

She broke one of what would become a series of rules when she lied to her charge: "She wants you to raise an army, Amaranth. . . .a holy army."

It felt surprisingly good.