Something felt off when Celia awoke. For one, she was propped against a tree. And for another... she felt rope pressing in on her body.

There was a long gap in her memory. She was in the building, in Weston, underground, dragged through a portal machine... and now she found herself here. She remembered seeing Lanala, even talking to her. They were both dressed in their old clothes from Ikaatan for some reason.

Even now, Celia noted her attire. The midriff bearing, brown shirt with long sleeves and a lace up collar, showing off a deep neckline, her fingerless black gloves, tight brown pants and light, flat black shoes. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders, piercing blue eyes looking around, frantically, at the empty green field and clear blue sky above.

The ropes held her ankles, calves and thighs together, bound and cinched tightly. Celia kicked them uselessly trying to free herself. More rope held her crossed and bound wrists behind her back, with yet more pinning her arms to her sides in one thick coil, wrapping her arms and torso from elbows to shoulders. Another tight rope wrapped around the trunk of the tree and held her in place.

She bit down and felt her teeth sink into hard rubber. A glowing ball gag sat firmly rooted in her mouth, tightly strapped in, with a thick cloth tied on over that. Celia kicked and squirmed, doing nothing but make herself tired and excited. As it always was, being bound and gagged have her a thrill. A rush of energy, excitement and... something else. But fear bubbled up in her stomach, not understanding where she was or how she had ended up here.

She spotted a small building like a house off in the distance. It look ornate, quite pretty even from a distance, and she could see figures shifting across a small window along the side of it. Celia struggled in her bonds and tried calling out toward this house.

“Hhhlllmmmpp! Mmmmpphh!” Her gagged cries were muted, muffled, and she herself could only just hear her own voice. Hope started to fade as she struggled harder, desperate to escape.

But a familiar face appeared before her, the woman kneeling down, soft orange eyes meeting blue, though with a dour, serious expression.

Her pretty face was framed perfectly by wavy, strawberry pink bangs. Her long hair, the same colour, kept tied back in her usual updo. Her beautiful, caramel skin showed off by her usual attire; a small, cotton shirt like a tank top that only covered her chest, baring her toned abdomen, matching arm guards, a short skirt reaching the middle of her thighs and knee high sandals, all black.

Celia stopped struggling when Lanala appeared before her, a confused look on her face.

“It’s all right, you’re safe. For now...” Lanala sighed. “I still need to convince her...”

Her? Who? What was going on? Where were they? All these and more questions raced through Celia’s mind as she started struggling again. “Lmmmnllmmm! Wmmph hhmmppnmmng?”

“Easy, Celia. It’s okay. I won’t let her hurt you. She’s just... she’s protective. This was the best I could get you. She wanted to kill you but I stopped that. And she won’t. I won’t let her, okay?”

Celia just nodded.

“She still thinks you might be a threat. To me and to... well... this place.”

Lanala gestured wide. “This, well, let’s be frank. This prison.”

Celia raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, there’s no way out of this little field, this lush forest, that little house... that’s all there is here. Apart from the woman and the spirit of a man inside it.”

Celia’s confusion only grew.

“I want you to stay calm for this next part. You’ve heard about my... my family, yes?”

Celia nodded again.

“How Jhana’s my sister and our mother is... and was... the most powerful sorceress of Mageia? And likely all the known worlds?”

Celia nodded again, slower this time, worry creeping into her eyes.

“This prison... this little world, her home... it was built by her. To contain herself. To stop herself from causing any more harm. The good side of her, the side when The Power subsides, did this. You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Celia just stared at Lanala. She didn’t even want to think it...

“Please stay calm, Celia. This world, this prison... it holds the spirit of my father, Khal. He came here after he died. He chose to spend eternity with... with my mother. Alhanna. Alhanna the Immortal. That’s where we are.”

...

Elsewhere...

It wasn’t unusual to find the house empty. Meryn knew her father, Drake, and Mac worked in nearby Harrisville, usually with their hands full working as the independent law around the village. So she didn’t find it odd that there was no one inside as she entered. What she did find odd, and disconcerting, was the small note left hanging on the door.

Meryn,

The mantle calls. Await my return. I bring grave news, little dragon. I will elaborate when next we meet. Stay safe, young one.

Your loving father,

Drake

“Not like him...” she said, reading the note with furrowed brow. “Must be serious.”

She remained on edge for a few hours, working about the house, cleaning her two guns, and headed outside to begin chopping wood for the stove. She had split a few small logs when she felt someone watching her, not hearing their approach. Meryn didn’t even look up, continuing her work.

“You just going to stand and stare or say what needs saying?” Meryn asked.

“Young one...” Drake began. “Apologies for sneaking up on you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Meryn said. “You’ve been standing there watching me almost since I started.”

Drake chuckled. “Very well.”

“So what’s so important you had to warn me beforehand?” Meryn asked, still not looking up from her work, splitting another log in one strike.

“I thought it best you hear this from me... I have heard word of the supposed rebels. The actions of your friends.”

Meryn remained silent. She swung down harder, lodging the axe in the hardwood chopping block, having to plant her foot to wrench it loose.

“Jonas... the Demon in Black. It’s worse than we feared.”

Meryn cracked open another log, striking down harder, this time grimacing as she dislodged the axe from the chopping block again.

“These rebels, though they oppose this Devil in Harrison, they are ruthless cutthroats. Killers. The innocent live in fear of them. Word is they’re worse than any of the Devil’s rule of law. Taking what they please, destroying the land around them, ruining and taking innocent lives, tearing apart families...”

Meryn slammed the axe down again, this time struggling to pull it loose. “Doesn’t sound like them.”

“I didn’t want to believe it myself. I am sorry to tell you this, little dragon. But your friends... they are not who they once were. Their minds were lost as they passed through the portal. They may wear the faces of your friends but, in their hearts, they are not your friends anymore.”

Meryn growled in frustration as she pulled the axe free and repeatedly drove the axe into the large tree just behind the chopping block, finally getting it stuck and leaving it there. She slumped over, breathing hard.

Her golden glare fell upon her father. “What have you heard?”

“Too much. Perhaps best you don’t know all the truth.”

Meryn stood tall, catching her breath.

“There is word, however, that they seek ancient relics. To open a portal to another world. They’ve been trying ever since we were all trapped here. I don’t know their exact intentions but I have heard talk of the Demon opening the gates to Hell itself, to take his vengeance upon this world, and let the fires of Hell scorch the land to ash. To rend the very earth beneath us and let it all be swallowed by flame.”

Meryn remained silent, her glare remaining fixed.

“We have both seen the darkness that dwells within Jonas. That rooftop in Weston, when he was beating that young man, ready to drop him from the roof to his doom... we both know it.”

His daughter turned away from him and ran one hand through her hair, letting out a long, deep breath.

“That’s what I was afraid of...” Meryn said.

“That is why I spoke of the mantle, young one. Just as it has always been, the people cry out for a saviour. I am far too old, and doing all I can already with Sheriff Mac. But she and I can only do so much. We need you. Everyone does. To do as you have always done.”

Meryn turned around, her gilded eyes like fire, her gaze boring straight through her father’s. “What you ask of me... How do I take up arms against the ones I love?”

“I leave the decision to you, of course,” Drake said. “I never said this would be easy. Far from it. Perhaps the most difficult thing you will ever do. I am sorry to ask this of you, Meryn. But surely you can put a stop to them. You need not harm them just... do what you must. I am so sorry...”

She turned away from him again. “Give me some time alone. I need to think.”

“Of course. This is no easy decision. Do only what you feel is right, little dragon. I will return to Mac. Do not forget, Meryn... I love you.”

Meryn’s voice softened. “I love you too, Dad...”

Drake walked back the way he had come, heading well out of sight of the house before letting himself relax. His kind eyes turned serious, cold, tired yet angry.... and a tinge of red appeared beneath his own gold irises.

...

Fa’rah admitted to herself that this was quite the plan. She rather enjoyed her role in it, spiting her oldest and most bitter rival.

Two captives knelt before her, rope around their ankles and knees, binding them, more pinning their arms to their sides, and yet more holding their wrists behind their backs. They were anchored in place by a single shackle around each of their ankles, holding them to the floor. She stepped back and shut the barred cell door, locking her eyes on the defiant, angry eyes of the pair.

Both were gagged with cloth stuffed mouths, and another tied on over their mouths. One man, one woman, struggling and grunting angrily as she watched them.

“So nice catching up,” she said. “If only Goldie could be here among you... but that’s the genius of the plan, ain’t it?”

Fa’rah smirked, first meeting the pale eyes of the raven-haired Sheriff of Harrisville. She growled behind her gag, struggling with the ropes, staring daggers from her eyes.

“No worries there, Sheriff. Harrisville will be looked after. I’ll see to it.”

“Mmmnngghh! Mmmm mmmpph!”

Fa’rah chuckled in response, next meeting the older, yet familiar, golden eyes of one Drake Dane.

His long red hair reached his shoulders. A well trimmed matching beard, flecked with grey, framed his handsome face. His face was wizened and scarred beneath the black, wide-brimmed hat on his head. This matched his black vest, golden yellow, high collared shirt, black pressed trousers and brown riding boots.

“Old Daddy Dearest...” he said. “Nice to know where Goldie got her looks and her penchant for trouble from.”

He simply growled, silenced by an identical gag to his fellow captive.

“Got that same stare too. Full of fire... just perfect,” Fa’rah said.

Drake peered behind Fa’rah as a door swung open and a man with his face entered the room. His own form drifted away into the shadows and became Mr. Jade, the double of Jonas, standing before him.

“Marshal...” he said. “See to Harrisville. I will keep them here.”

“Ah, Mr. Jade. You’ll take good care of them here, I trust?”

“As is your will,” Jade said. “A bargaining chip, as you said. For a rainy day.”

“Hey, best we don’t kill them just yet, you know?” Fa’rah said. “Plus all that mess, and Goldie’s full blown anger... I’ve heard things. You don’t want that.”

“I am aware,” Jade said. “I will arrive in three days time to relieve you and we shall change places. You are not to engage Meryn in that time. I will be in contact with her again when we switch. Understand?”

“You got it,” Fa’rah said. “But what if she decides to roll into town when I’m there? She isn’t exactly the forgiving sort...”

“She will not,” Jade said. “The words of her father have shaken her. She has taken them as truth. Her heart is heavy. I know them as well as the Demon does. She will remain secluded until her decision is made.”

Drake struggled in his bonds and turned his fiery, gilded glare upon Jade. His own heart was heavy from what they were doing to his only daughter. To put her through yet more loss and heartbreak... he let his breath fade.

Not now... he thought. I will not be mindless with rage... but I will kill him.

“And when her decision is made?” Fa’rah asked.

“Then we will have our greatest weapon against the rebels. Now, off with you. And remember what I said.”

“I will, Mr. Jade.” Fa’rah’s eyes turned serious for a moment. Sad and almost... worried. “You remember what I said too.”

Jade’s cold glare fell upon her. “They shall not die by my hand, Marshal. As I have said. Now go.”

Fa’rah said nothing more and left the room. Mr. Jade followed soon after, not once even glancing back at the captives, shutting them away into darkness.

...

Elsewhere...

Her wrists were still sore and Celia rubbed them where the ropes had been binding her not that long ago. And now, she was looking upon the bound form of another woman, hogtied, hanging from the ceiling, wearing a similar glowing ball gag that she had been.

Rope encircled her elegant body, forming a chest harness, binding her arms at the shoulders, elbows, and wrists behind her back. Her legs were bent back, bound at the ankles, calves, thighs, and one pulled tight around her waist and between her legs. A connecting rope ran from between her legs to her wrists, then her ankles, and finally anchored and tied off on her upper back. A steel collar was locked around her neck, a ring in the back helping keep her suspended, with ropes anchored to the ceiling attached to her upper and lower thighs, her waist, the small of her back, and the collar.

“So... this is is your mother...” Celia said.

“Yes. Alhanna the Immortal. This is how she remains most of her time in here, watched over by the spirit of...” Lanala turned her eyes away from Alhanna, to the kindly, ethereal man sitting just behind her. “My father,” she finished.

The spirit smiled at her warmly. She wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around his shoulders, rest her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, just as when she was a little girl... but even when they tried, he passed straight through her. So now they were settled on a warm smile passed between them.

“It is my eternal honour,” Khal said.

He was just as she remembered. The kind, dark eyes, the ebony skin, scruffy beard that used to tickle her face when he would kiss her forehead, the thick mane of black hair atop his head, his gentle, loving voice, even the same wisdom and patience in his voice... it was like a dream.

“Yes. My father chose this afterlife...” Lanala said.

“So why tie me up?” Celia asked.

“It’s all I could do to prevent her from turning you to ash. The power took her over. I asked Father to talk her down and get her back into, well, position. And then I talked her all the way down. She released you when I did.”

Alhanna mumbled something into her gag, her eyes, now back to the same orange as he daughter, flashed an apologetic glance toward Celia.

“Not the best awakening when I can’t remember... anything. Is this really where Jhana sent us?”

“Jhana?” Khal stood up, his ethereal form crossing the room. “This is her doing?”

“Her last efforts to regain some measure of control. She is... like mother. In a prison I created for her.”

Khal nodded, closing his eyes. “I see. A shame. I had hoped your mother’s power would not claim her.”

“Well, it consumed her mind. She is power mad. I am sorry, Father...”

“Lanala...” Khal stood close to his daughter. “There is nothing to forgive. Alhanna always said the first born was more susceptible. It is why we separated you. She saw it, within Jhana. But there was kindness in you. So you remained with me while your mother... she came here.”

Lanala and Alhanna met eyes for a moment. “Your power... it’s unfathomable...” Lanala said. “I can feel it. You are beyond... anything. Far beyond me. If I had allowed The Power to take me... would I have ended up like you?”

Alhanna nodded slowly.

“She wished to protect you from Mageian magic. But being of the royal blood, the fates have a way of bringing you and Mageia together. But you found your way. You have immense power and your own mind, you love, your kindness... we couldn’t be more proud of you, my girl.”

“Wghh rrrr...” Alhanna said, behind the ball gag.

Lanala stepped forward and unstrapped the gag in her mother’s mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, flexing her jaw. “We are, Lanala. Though there is a question still hanging in the air...”

“Why would my sister send us here?” Lanala asked.

“I have wondered that. What is Jhana’s goal?”

“She separated us from our friends. From... from my wife. Celia from her best friend and her own relationships... it is her revenge.”

“That cannot be all to it,” Alhanna said. “The Power, it always wishes for more. To consume. To rule. She must have further designs for you and your friends.”

“Like what? Leaving the world a ruin of roaming shadows? Like you did to Mageia?”

Alhanna hung her head. “I cannot escape what I did... I had hoped you would never know.”

“And what about all you did in Ikaatan? You were the Evil Sorceress. I heard nothing but hushed whispers about you. If it weren’t for Artema’s mother-”

“Artema’s... mother?”

Lanala sighed. “I suppose there’s no hiding it... the one who defeated you. The great Hero of Ikaatan. That was my wife’s mother.”

“I see... how did that come to pass?”

“Artema doesn’t get along with her mother. She doesn’t ‘approve’....

“Oh my dear...” Alhanna said. “I am sorry...”

“But how we met doesn’t matter,” Lanala said. “Did you really do all that?”

“I did... much to my shame. I was a terror. A blight. But after I was captured and imprisoned, I regained a part of myself. I wanted to live. To love. So I escaped and I met your father. He knew nothing of me or my deeds until well after we met. And yet still... he loves me.”

“Because that Evil Sorceress is not who you truly are, love,” Khal said. “This, the kindness, the loving mother, that is who you are. And I shall always love you as you are, to take the good and the ill. As I vowed in life.”

Lanala stepped back and let them share a loving embrace. Whatever power her mother had, it allowed a spirit like Khal to touch her. She didn’t know how to do that... she wished she could. Just to hug him one more time...

“So you had children,” Lanala said. “Daughters. Since that is all Mageians can foster.”

“As was our chosen way long ago,” Alhanna said.

“And you were still hunted when you escaped,” Celia said. “I remember when I was a girl... it’s all anyone would talk about. The escape of the Evil Sorceress...”

“I was. And I knew, should another battle come to pass, I would not be able to stop The Power consuming me again. It threatened me constantly. I would say things to your father... such horrible things...”

“Shhh...” Khal soothed. “That was not you, love. I know it.”

“Dearest Khal...”

“So,” Lanala said. “You imprisoned yourself.”

“There was no other choice. Since I regained myself, I could not become the destroyer I once was. That I still am. If it meant threatening my daughters... then I had to be imprisoned. Someplace even I could not escape. So that is why I built this place. There is no escape from here...”

Lanala sighed. “And that’s what I was afraid of...”

“I have no idea how Jhana managed to send you here,” Alhanna said. “But I am afraid you may be trapped here with me. I am sorry, Lanala...”

“I refuse to accept that,” Celia said. “We can’t be stuck here. Right, Lanala?”

“We have to try. To find our way to them. It’s all we can do.”

Lanala reached up to the ropes binding her mother.

“Lanala, what are you doing? This is the only way to contain me when I am-”

“You’re back to normal, aren’t you?” Lanala asked.

“Yes but-”

“Then I need your help. Look, father and I both have clear and significant experience with rope. We’ll contain you when the Power comes back. I need you to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” Alhanna asked.

“How to open a portal in this world.”

“What? You have the power to create one yourself, Lanala. And, in this world, that is impossible. I cannot escape.”

“Doesn’t mean Celia and I can’t... if I learn from you, there must be a way to get back to them. Wherever Jhana sent them.”

Alhanna sighed. “I’m afraid I may not be of much help... but I will teach you what I can. I will teach you our magic.”

...

Lanala sat with her legs crossed beneath the beautiful tree in the open green field, listening to her mother’s words. She took the words in herself. The old words of the Mageian magic.

“Vartiyapyli...” Alhanna said. “Our word for ‘Portal.’ You have to find it within yourself. Hear it speak to your very being. Every fibre. In your bones, your flesh, your blood, your soul... and you must speak the rhythm of the language.”

“The rhythm?” Lanala asked.

“Every word is five syllables. Flows like poetry. Even something as simple as ‘The Portal in the Library.’ The two key elements of that sentence are two five syllable words, spoken like a poem. Vartiyapyli Viviloteka...”

At her words, an ancient building appeared in their vision, a ghostly apparition of a library, hovering around them, suddenly in place around the field and the tree.

“It if faint but the power of my words can still keep these things here...” Alhanna explained. “But the process exhausts me by design and if I hold it too long, I have chains to bind me and stop my escape attempt.”

The library faded as Alhanna reached up to her suddenly swimming head. “I fear the same will happen to you, a woman of my blood. A Mageian. The world will think you are me, attempting escape.”

“Then help me work on a way out. Since I am not you, there must be a way around it,” Lanala said.

Alhanna sighed. “If there was some connection in this world, to you, from theirs, with our magic, we may yet find your gate. The chances are slim they have something there for you to connect with.”

“How will I find that?”

“Anazitelet...” Alhanna said. “Our word for search. Use that. And our word for ‘Of Mageia.’ Mageialata...”

“So absorb those words and speak them aloud...”

“Or, with our power, you can just hear them in your mind. Once you have mastered them, as you already do, a simple thought can bring that magic into your being. Grant you the power to create. And destroy...”

“Not for me,” Lanala said. “I won’t let that happen.”

Lanala stood up again, standing taller than her mother, who managed a sweet smile. She reached up and touched her daughter’s face. “You are so beautiful... to think, I could create beauty like this...” she said.

“Mother... there is one other thing I want to ask.”

“Name it, my girl.”

“Is there any way to... restore Mageia?”

“Restore... it?”

“To right the wrongs of our bloodline’s past. There must be something.”

“I do not know the answer to that, Lanala,” Alhanna said. “That I will leave to you. You and your strength. You will find the answer. I have faith in you.”

Lanala heaved a sigh and turned away from her mother, watching the sun fade away into the horizon. “As I feared then... very well.”

“I am sorry, Lanala... for the stains upon our name.”

“Just help me find a way out of here,” Lanala said. “And maybe someday I’ll wash our name clean.”

Story Theme Song: The Brothers Bright- Blood on My Name