User:Forgottenlord/Fallen Warrior/Chapter 4

{{Forgottenlord/Fallen_Warrior
 * Next=Chapter 5
 * Prev=Chapter 3
 * Chapter=Chapter 4
 * Text=Celeste finished her journey through the minds of the inhabitants of Earth. Another descendant of the Forgotten-Angel clan had fallen this day, but there was nothing she could do about that.  She was retreating back into herself, when she noticed something odd.  A tendril of darkness stretched through space, reaching back to the mass that was the Gravemind’s lair.

She wondered briefly if the Gravemind had tried attacked her probe, but she quickly ruled that out. She had sensed it every time it had tried to penetrate her defenses before, and she was certain it would try to talk to her if it had successfully bypassed them. But if it hadn’t tried to attack her, why did it have a tendril out?

She stretched out through the Psychic realm, searching. Something was not right; she had to find out what. She checked to ensure that the Collective had not been attacked or breached but was quickly reassured. While there was certainly some evidence of something trying to penetrate it, the effect of the attempt was clearly not of the Gravemind’s style. But what had tried to penetrate the barrier? Certainly, there were a couple of other groups in the Galaxy that had access to the Psychic realm, but there was a mutual agreement between them to not involve themselves with one another. Even more importantly, the penetration attempt was a physical attempt – or at least as close as one could get to physical in the psychic realm. Even the other sects had a better understanding of the Psychic realm than that.

Celeste considered the Gravemind for a moment, but shook her head and instead looked towards the area where the attack had been made. The Gravemind had not done damage to the Collective nor had any effect upon it, there was a more important puzzle to solve first. As she looked towards the attack point, she found a presence, a presence no longer conscious but nonetheless there. As Celeste recognized the figure, the confusion merely deepened.

Brianna lay on the far side of the Collective from the Gravemind, a clear look of panic on her unconscious face. What had attacked her was unclear – while the Gravemind could certainly make an attack like this, Celeste doubted that the Gravemind had the capability to see or attack Brianna from this angle. Why she was out here, Celeste did not know, but she had clearly found herself trapped, unable to proceed through the protections the Elders had made.

Celeste sighed and brought the woman in. She wanted to continue investigating what the Gravemind had attacked, but she knew it would be no use. She assumed that whatever had attacked Brianna had been attacked by the Gravemind, and she knew that hunting the other presence would be foolish while a Disciple remained in danger. She grabbed the young woman and took her into the Collective and the safety it provided.

She wondered, briefly, what Brianna wanted so desperately that she would push at the walls made to keep Disciples in. However, she knew that there would be time for questions later.

Right now she had work to do.

*		*		*

Her eyes refused to open.

There was no mistaking her position, legs raised, each leg held by a different object – they felt like hands. The ground scraping against her upper back as her head bounced on what she believed could only possibly be rocks. Voices, so alien yet understandable, rang in her ears.

“Another human, the pack will feast well tonight.”

The voices weren’t speaking any language Brianna had ever learnt, but Brianna could understand them as if they were speaking plain English. She didn’t understand it.

“Assuming the Chieftain doesn’t steal this one as well,” a second voice grumbled, clearly annoyed. “He still hasn’t eaten the last one he took from us.”

“Perhaps we should just eat this human now, before we reach camp,” the first suggested.

A third voice. “Then we will be supper for the pack.”

One of the creatures issued a large roar before the first spoke again. “What do we have to do to get a good meal? I was promised conquest, but I have not eaten either human or Sangheili hide.”

“We will eat human, I assure you. Have patience,” the second stated in a commanding tone. “Otherwise you will never get to taste their flesh. The Chieftain, for one, will see to it personally.”

*		*		*

“She’s definitely suffered from a Psychic blast,” Lucia Allaine said. She, along with her partner, Julianne Roache, formed the medical team of the Night Sisters. The two had devoted themselves to the researching the Psychic realm and both had attainted the rank of Angel Master and Elder for their work. They stood on either side of Brianna, finishing their examination of the unconscious woman. “I would guess it was moderate power and a long distance away – possibly as far as Earth. I can only assume she wasn’t shielded.”

“If it knocked her unconscious, then she wouldn’t have been inside our shields – not that it matters, even I can’t even make a psychic blast powerful to breach our defenses,” Celeste stated. “I don’t think she knows any shielding methods. I knew I should’ve trained her on that before I –“

Julianne held up a hand to stop the rambling. “It’s all right, Celeste. She’ll be fine, she just needs to recover. I’d say she’ll need the night and she’ll probably be awake in the morning sometime.”

Celeste nodded. “Tell me when she’s awake.”

The two women nodded as Celeste turned and left the medical ward.

*		*		*

There are three branches of the Night Sisters; three pillars by which all Night Sisters mark themselves

The first in the spiritual branch, where they study the Psychic realm, learn its secrets, learn to influence it and learn to listen to it. To be great users of the Psychic realm, a Night Sister must know how to use it and how it can be used. To fail at this is to be merely human.

Night Sister Priests sit as the lesser rank on the Spiritual branch – those that have shown great skill, but have not yet attained a true understanding of the Psychic realm. They show skills and abilities that would make the average human quiver, but they are far from an equal to the Elders. Few Night Sisters fail to attain Priesthood, even fewer succeed in surpassing it.

Atop this branch sit the Night Sister Elders, wise in their understanding of the Psychic realm, and capable of wielding its power to great effect. Their understanding and ability to view the Universe through the lens of the Psychic realm give them the right to rule the Night Sisters. They are its leaders, its guide, its visionaries.

The second branch is the warrior branch, where they study the ability to fight and engage in war. The Night Sisters are not foolish enough to learn only how to fight using the Psychic realm – they are not naïve enough to believe that it, alone, can protect them in a fight. They must first learn the basics of fighting before they can learn how to hone it with the Psychic realm. Everything from basic fighting techniques to the use of weapons of all types, to utilizing the Psychic realm as a weapon is drilled. However, battle is not the only thing taught in this branch – for Kane’s insight is as important to this branch as the Angel Fire’s. Strategy is also taught, so that the Night Sisters could be leaders as well as fighters, strategists able to monitor their opponents’ movements and adapt as the situation demands it.

The Night Sister Warriors are women who have proven themselves proficient in the art of war, equal to the greatest assassins and warriors human history has recorded. These are women who could change the tide of a battle or lead an army to victory.

The Night Sister Blademasters, however, are unrivaled champions in the art of war. They are masters of death and destruction, able to fend off armies of soldiers, making a hopeless war a winnable one. The speed and ferocity they fight with make even the Spartans look like puppets and though they lack the bred strength and power that the Spartans were given, they more than make up for it with their abilities within the Psychic realm.

However, it is the third branch which is the most important. The first two are necessary for the survival of the Night Sisters and define what the Night Sisters are about, but it is the third, the Development branch, which determines whether the Night Sisters will thrive and be able to fight the next greatest threat when it arrives or disappear into insignificance. The Development branch deals with expanding the Collective’s knowledge of the Psychic realm, stretching the Collective’s eye beyond horizons never before known.

Those who have succeeded in developing the Collective’s knowledge are granted the honor of being named Night Sister Visionaries. These women have discovered great things about the Psychic realm and have brought new practices to the Sisters.

However, those who have revolutionized thinking or have devoted their lives to the Development branch are given the rare honor of being considered an Angel Master – or, in full, Master of the ways of the Angel Fire, in recognition of their founder’s ability to develop the knowledge of the Night Sisters without even being able to see the Psychic realm. It was the only rank that had ever been given to those outside the collective, being handed to both Tristan Angel (for whom it was named) and Blue Milk.

All Night Sisters develop along all three branches simultaneously, starting with an initial rank of Night Sister Junior for each until they acquire a greater rank. Most achieve Warrior and Priest status while remaining a mere Junior on the Development Branch. Only two individuals have ever succeeded at being able to attain the highest rank within all three:

Celeste McNair, and Lucia Allaine.

*		*		*

A sickly yellow covered everything. Growths that made the once royally purple corridor into an emblem of the rot its new inhabitants created covered every surface. Brown tentacles ran down the roof of the corridor, like endless pipes enacting the will of their master throughout the large complex. Only on one of the tentacles could a tip be seen.

It was the one that stroked the red bulb, pulsing sickly against a wall. It was the one that had attracted Celeste’s attention when she first saw it. The Gravemind continued to stroke the bulb, gingerly, protectively.

Celeste knew why. Celeste didn’t just see the bulb, she saw through it, to the creature that grew inside it. She could see the feminine form, the strong muscles, the powerful legs. She saw the tentacles and the thick skin. She saw the face, the horrible, horrible face that was hauntingly and impossibly familiar – for it was her own.

She heard its horrible laugh, the laugh of triumph, of glory, of its final dominance against the Night Sisters. It knew that she had seen. It knew she was here. It may even have wanted her to see for it already knew it was too late for her to stop it.

A sword left its hilt and sliced through the air as Celeste brought it to strike the creature. Celeste rose, but her eyes found nothing but darkness and her body found nothing but the drench of her sweat, the warmth of her bed, and the chill of what she had seen.

As her heart calmed, she began trying to rationalize what she had seen. She wasn’t certain what it was, but her heart pleaded for it to have been little more than a dream. However, no matter how much she wanted it to be a dream, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t, that it was much more important, much more real, than any dream could ever be.