[Closed within the dream, but someone could concievably try to wake Cassie up]

[rowan_narrators]

Who: Cassandra, Rusoren
What: Message from the GODS. One of them, anyway.
Where: Cassandra's bedroom/dreams/land of the Gods
When: Friday night

Comments

[cassie_of_troy]

Upside down. That was not what she had been expecting, but a bit of it seemed to make sense. Roots in a thousand skies. Cassandra supposed that meant the thousand worlds from which the other worldwalkers were being drawn. But then she thought about the last time she had seen the Rowan tree. There had been a leaf or two on it. It had seemed different somehow. That was inconsistent.

Of course, Rusoren was a god. Perhaps he merely spoke in metaphor. Poetic metaphor, but metaphor nevertheless. "Why did it choose us?" she asked. "Why did it take me and the others?"

[rowan_narrators]

That, Rusoren said, with even more gravitas than usual, is a question best posed to the Gate Guardians.

His father's loyal hounds, even watchful at the door. Rusoren disliked them on principle, but they would be best able to give her the truth.

You found the carnage left by the senior Guardian about the tree yesterday morning, did you not? She will be in Jhelbor still. Ask her your question, if you wish to know.

[cassie_of_troy]

"Frankly," Cassandra said dryly, "I would rather not become her next victim, whoever she is."

She folded her arms. "So why have you come to visit me?" Cassandra highly doubted the curiosity was idle. "I'm a powerful shaman, although by no action nor desire of my own. What does that mean to you?"

Best not to mince words, she decided. She could not count on him being thick like some of the gods of her world. Not yet, anyway.

[rowan_narrators]

You won't, Rusoren assured her. She defeated the demon sentries to gain access to the tree. Her mission now is to protect the Worldwalkers. You would be safer with her than anywhere else in Rowan. She will seek you out; you may ask her then.

He ruffled his wings, feeling oddly settled in the dreamform after speaking so much, granting so much of his attention to the conversation. She was engaging, an intelligent creature. The best ones always were.

It means that you are a conduit, he explained, Between the Middle World and the World Below. I find myself interested in the Middle World for the first time in many years, and so I chose to introduce myself.

He tilted his head again, almost entirely sideways, owl-eyes almost comically wide.

Was it poorly done? he asked, slightly disingenuous, but mostly genuinely curious to know if he remembered the preferences of mortals right. Should I call upon you only as a tool, when I have some use to bend you to?

[cassie_of_troy]

And there it was.

"I am no one's tool," she said icily. "I have been down that path quite enough for one lifetime. I have earned my respite. That the tree chose to rob me of my death is apparently its own preoggative." The longing was evident in her voice at the word 'death.'

She was not treading carefully enough. "You have Nazarene to do your bidding," she sighed softly. "I am nothing to you. Just a lost soul."