Footholds

Arya’s limp body lay on the couch. Quay surveyed her with contempt. “Idiot,” she muttered. Behind her, Emma stared at the newly-thawed shadow with surprise as Tristan, Jess, and Joel searched Carmen’s house for ropes or handcuffs. “Thank you for letting me out,” Quay said to Emma. “Ingenious on your part. How did you know that I wouldn’t defend her?”
“I didn’t,” Emma replied, her voice shaking. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to knock open the icebox, and I was planning to throw the fire spell at her, not you. It was all completely klutzy and coincidental on my part.”
“Yes, that it was. Luckily for you, I don’t remember who she is to me or who I was to her.” Quay watched as Tristan clasped the handcuffs around Arya’s wrists and locked them.
“How did you do that?” Jess asked. “You just touched her and boom! She’s out cold.”
“It’s simple in theory, really. I gave her what she wanted- I projected Nothing on to her; gave her a sense of nothingness, that only she existed, and she passed out. Shock, I suppose. She wasn’t ready for it. It won’t last forever. She’ll wake up soon, and she’ll be angry.”
“Yes, well, we can’t do much about that,” Joel shrugged. “Um, Emma, was it? That was really risky, really stupid, and could have killed us all. Well done.”
Emma grinned. “The Hero always has to mess up sometimes.”
“What she said earlier,” Tristan said. “She forgot that she was the Fire? Enough to get married and have a kid? How is that possible? And then something shocked her back into it, and she killed her husband and gave up the daughter. What was that? … But she passed as a Victura all this time.”
“A smart choice,” Jessica acknowledged. “The Victura have amazing physical, magical, and mental capabilities, not to mention that nifty shape-shifting. She was disguised as a Victura disguised as an elf. Almost undetectable. She even matched the essence.”
“Then why did she reveal herself to us?”
“I don’t know.” Jessica shivered. “We should get more ropes. I don’t think handcuffs will be enough.”
Tristan scuttled off to find some, and there was a sharp rap on the door. Startled, Jess peeked through the window. “Master!” she cried, flung open the door, and ran to Oleander. “Master, Arya, she is the Fire, and- what is it?” She stopped, noticing the pure look of joy on Oleander’s face.
“I was blind, Jess,” he answered. “I didn’t realize, and it was staring us right in the face. Her knowledge of our people, her interest in lost cultures and languages, knowing the truth of Esilanna- the fact that she was Esi’s best friend, even her name alone!- Cattallus has been pretending to be Carmen all this time!”
“What?”
“Think about it- what was Catty’s full name?”
“Cattallus Cantabile Rubus Idaeus… Carmen.”
“Yes! Carmen, as in a song, because she was the Serenade scripter’s apprentice. She kept the one thing that was most important to her personality- her music.”
“There was a harp on her bed,” Tristan added.
“Of course there was- she always wanted to learn to play it. Five hundred years is a long time to master an instrument.
“How did you know?” Jess asked.
“Esi has told me. Is she here? And what about Mari-“
Jessica pointed behind him. Mariale came striding towards the house carrying Carmen, with Ebbony and Frida in tow. Oleander ran to her. “Mariale-“
“Shh,” Mariale shushed. “She’s asleep.”
“She fainted,” Ebbony pointed out. “There’s a difference.”
“Oh, please.” Mariale rolled her eyes. “Let’s get inside.”
Stepping into the house, Mariale quickly scanned the area and noticed the bound Arya. “What happened here?”
“Long story,” Tristan said, “but apparently, the real Arya died a long time ago and some creature called the Hating Fire was impersonating her since before your race died.”
“That was a great summary,” Jess muttered.
“Thank you.”
Mariale lay Carmen down on the couch. “She’s Cattallus,” Oleander informed her.
“Oh?” Mariale raised an eyebrow. She paused, the look on her face that of one with much to say, but then stopped and only replied, “That explains some things.”
Frida waltzed over to Tristan, who looked just as confused as she felt.
Carmen gave a soft groan and whispered unintelligibly. “She’s talking in her sleep,” Oleander said.
“In Victuran,” Mariale noted. “ ‘Let go of me.’ Just ‘let go of me,’ over and over.” Mariale shivered. “Like before…”
“Catty,” Oleander kneeled and whispered to her, “no one’s holding you. It’s okay.”
“Let go of me…” Carmen stopped and her eyes fluttered, then opened. She sat upright slowly. “I’m back at my house… my house, and you’re all here, and you… called me Catty.”
“I did. Catty,” Oleander looked into her eyes. “No one’s holding you.”
“No, no one’s holding me. They’re gone.” She clutched her head. “It hurts, my head hurts.”
“What is it?” Mariale asked. “Is it the Gate? Is it trying to gain a foothold again?”
Carmen whimpered. “I feel its heartbeat, and I feel Meagan’s, and Ebbony’s, and yours, and his, and everyone’s… the whole world’s, into one huge rhythm… make it stop, Ole. Make it stop!”
“It’s the Gate, all right,” Oleander confirmed. He muttered the word of sleep, and Carmen’s eyes went blank as she fell into an enchanted slumber. “I put her to sleep for a bit; the Gate can’t do too much to a dormant mind. Hopefully, she’ll have some more control when she wakes up, because if she doesn’t… there’s nothing we can do.”

“You can’t have Meagan,” Carmen said to the shut door. “I don’t care what you want. You can’t have her. You can’t have Jemma. Have me. Devour me completely, like you did before. Eat my very soul. But I won’t let you touch her or anyone else. You’re my sin, and that’s why you can only have me.”
The Gate groaned in response, almost as if growling in defiance but having to submit into compliance. Carmen smirked, then cried out as intense pain rocked through her entire being, down to her very essence.
It had gained a foothold.

...I KNEW IT! Cattallus "Kitty" Cantabile Rubus Idaeus Carmen. Quite the name there...I hope she's alright.

A user of this : She'll be fine. Though that IS a ridiculously long name.

Dragonlord Stephi : Well the ending kinda blowed ... Carmen ... not again ... Finally everything is kinda sorta almost .5% going not so bad somewhat .... and she does that .... Anyway this is the latest one .. Long time since I've said this but I can't wait till you write the next one .. Now to that story with the French Girl