Adventuring through twisted time.
Another restless night. At least he wasn't alone. Though it still felt as if he were. His wife avoided him and he believed she hated him. He tried making things work. So far... It wasn't. She was stubborn. He was stubborn. So they clashed more often than not.
He stared at the ceiling. Seething in anger and wallowing in guilt. The responsibility of carrying on the Silversun name sat on his chest and pinned him to the bed. Until he couldn't take laying one spot any longer. He forced himself to his feet. Before he knew it he was dressed and out of the Mapleshade tree in seconds without fully processing what he was doing.
"I'm a fucking coward, Alloy."
He paced before his family's grave. Chewing on his nails. A bad habit he never outgrew. "I haven't... I haven't even told the king your last words." He growled at himself like a feral animal. "Haven't avenged you as I promised."
"Shit. I promised you two things and haven't done either."
He plopped down and let out a short shout pulling at his hair.
The King was out of town. Gone somewhere with the little goddess pet he acquired today. So telling him Alloy's last words would need to wait.
"I'm leaving. I'll be back at some point."
That was all he told his wife. But with the guard, he of course went through the proper channels to request a leave of absence. Explaining that closure was at last needed.
"And if I die... Leave everything I own to Ely."
He wasn't actually planning on coming back alive. This was something that needed to be done, however. So he'd do whatever it would take.
He left a letter to the king before leaving with instructions to be given to him upon his death.
Death to him was certain.
He was prepared to search for ages if he needed to but from the moment he stepped out into the harsh sun and intense heat of Egypt the locals all sang the praise of one place. Some pub or restaurant... Or something called The Reeds. He was on his own out here with no place to really go and no lead to help guide him so The Reeds seemed an attractive place to start. Maybe he'd find a safe place to stay. Maybe he'd find someone with the information he needed.
Or maybe he would find her.
Sitting at the bar. Cooly drinking a pint without remorse or care in the world.
His anger seeing her after so long burned hotter than the Egyptian sun. He flared. Trying to keep the fire inside him contained. The heat from his skin causing the hair on his head to stand. He took a breath and looked around.
Too many people for a fireball. He growled low and scanned the floor finding a rock. For one split second, he thought maybe he should just talk to her. But he was angry and wasn't here to settle things over pleasant conversation.
He hurled the rock her way mainly to get her attention.
"You've lived in peace long enough! I want vengeance!"
Missing the past was a peculiar sensation for someone like her. Remembering everything she's ever witnessed and done from creation until now. She missed her days in the field of reeds as the goddess of drunkenness and fertility. She missed her days of being a Medjai for the people. She missed when times were similar and she had significantly less responsibility but times change and she had to with it. Of course, these thoughts aren't without regrets.
And she was wealthier in regrets than anything else.
She was running all week managing her many businesses. Morroco, Casablanca, Tunisia, and of course Egypt. All in one week. She was spent. The locals all cheered and celebrated her when she walked onto the floor of The Reeds. She smiled and celebrated with them.
There was nothing like being home. She whistled to the bartenders and gave a simple hand gesture. And that was all they needed. They took out the good stuff and poured some for everyone present. The drinks were on the house. This had been a good work week. Though hectically busy.
At last, she sat with her pint in hand. Watching the joy and festivity. She had only taken a sip or two when the mull in hand completely shattered.
Everyone had seen Hathor's wrath at this point but no one knew who she truly was. The better than to anger her though.
"Vengeance?" She was cautiously confused. She'd hurt millions of people and species at this point it'd be impossible for her to narrow down who exactly he was and how she hurt him. After a moment of the palpable awkward silence and trepidation of fear from her workers and patrons. She forced a smile and chuckle.
She gestured her hands towards him and everyone laughed and cheered and went right back to celebrating. Except her. She rose and shook off the shards of glass on her. She approached him and with a quickness grabbed him and forced him away from the people around them.
"Who are you to assume I've ever had peace? You speak of vengeance but I don't even know who or what you are to know what I've done. Not saying I'm not guilty given my history I most likely am."
Echo aggressively shrugged her off of him. Staying right up to her face as she spoke. He was heated. His anger distorting everything. Including the words she said. Except 'I most likely am.' Welp. That was all the admittance he needed to hear. His fingertips burned. Without taking his eyes off her he took in his surroundings. Noted any plant life. The hot desert breeze. All the things that would help in his next few moves.
But he wasn't thinking straight. Okay, let's be honest he wasn't thinking at all. He was just responding in anger. Anger that had pent up all these decades and had nowhere else to go. So why not blame Hathor for everything. All these generations someone would always come along and try to get him to see the bigger picture. That even though Hathor was to blame for that ugly day. It wasn't her alone. It might not have been her at all. But that was too much for Echo to try and understand. He wasn't stupid. With the position, he held with Kyan he couldn't afford to be.
He was livid. And those who hold on to that type of resentment do foolish things. As it stands Kyan hadn't approved of him leaving or being here. So if he won he'd have to answer to him.
And if he lost...she'd... have... to... answer to him?
Either way, the king of the fae would eventually have to deal with one of them it seemed.
Maybe he should've thought this through. Though now it was too late. And he was too far gone. Standing in front of his sister's murder. It was too much. His heart raced and it grew harder to breathe. He didn't care who saw or got hurt as a result anymore. He needed Hathor dead. Everything would be better with her dead. Right? No other thought crossed his mind. He didn't want to second guess himself any longer so he loosed a fireball from his fingertips. Launching right at Hathor's face.
So what if her Medjay were around. Or normal people were near. He needed her dead.
The moment he shrugged her hand away she retracted it. Returning it to her side. She stayed on edge and guarded. Watching him closely as she waited for some response from him. She still couldn't place him. Maybe if she could figure out what he was that would change. She still might not know or remember him directly but at least she might know what she'd done to him. The heat that radiated off of him made her think he was a wolf initially. But she knew for a fact she hadn't hurt the Lupines. Not as a whole at least. So if he were a wolf she must have done something very personal. Which didn't help her at all. Sometimes her past viscous behavior frustrated her. Yet since she couldn't change she didn't dwell on it.
Then she felt the heat he was giving off rise. Her next thought was Gypsy. But that was merely a fleeting thought as she knew little to nothing about the wind lost group. Which left only one option. Fae. That revelation came at the same time as his fireball and it only confirmed how she had hurt him. Not entirely on how she hurt him personally but because she'd attacked his home it wasn't hard to guess. She dodged the fireball out of instinct. And very quickly regretted that decision because it could hit someone else now. Fortunately, her Medjay had cleared everyone out of the area to give them privacy so it only hit a pillar.
A few of her men rushed to put the fire out and check the remaining integrity of the structure after it'd been hit. As the others rushed to aid her. Who knows why though because gods know she didn't need it. She raised her hand to stop them. Shewing them away the next second. "Keep the humans and others safe." Her eyes showed intrigue as she kept them locked on her apparent opponent. She smirked, "it's been some time since I've had a good fight." She straightened up and fixed her clothes. "Guess I'll have to pay a visit to the Raven King once I'm done here. Someone should explain what happened to you. " she clicked her tongue and sighed. "And to think the two of us were living so peacefully apart."
She didn't think Kyan would take her killing one of his own well. Especially in light of the fact that she never actually verbally apologised for what she did centuries ago. Call it pride but she did scrub the earth clean of the Templars after to make amends. And she doubted the king would even listen or accept anything she had to say. Solely based on the stories she'd heard of him. "Alright. Come on." She gestured her hands for him to come. "I can't tell him you didn't at least give me a good fight. That'd just be shameful for you." She wasn't taking this seriously. She didn't want to fight him but realised that in his anger he'd have it no other way.
So, letting him burn out was the best option. If she could provoke him enough to continuously attack and then maintain a good balance between dodging and redirecting those attacks. She could likely tire him out. He was bound to have a limit. Maybe they could talk then. Sort out how she directly hurt him exactly and work on moving forward from there. He or anyone might never fully understand how she wasn't the same person anymore. How Sekhmet was truly a whole different goddess still trapped inside of her fighting to get out. So she wouldn't even try to explain. It'd likely sound like some excuse anyway. And she had no shame in owning up to what she'd done in the past.
"Give me a good fight. You won't regret it later."