PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 5 by Abyss DISCLAIMER; the following is a work of fiction. The author is not being payed for it. Various characters and ideas contained herein are the property of Marvel Comics and are used without permission, except for those that aren't which are mine. This work may not be reproduced for payment. The Copyright for the story remains with the author. Comments, critiques, suggestions most welcome. Enjoy the show, keep the faith... Abyss ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pale Reign Over Geshem - Chapter 5 HER face appeared to him again and again. Jean, as he had first seen her, frightened, badly beaten, and defying Apocalypse's elite with every look and breath. Jean, through a haze of blood, pulling Weapon X away from him, pulling away... Jean, dying before his eyes... Jean, standing over him... "No!" He sat up, dizziness and nausea rising in his stomach and head, energy rippled around the edges of the lens covering his eye. She was there, again. His hand grasped at her. She pulled back and his hand passed right through her. It felt like moving through water. Disorientation warred with confusion, and he stared at his hand, then back at the woman standing across from him. His surroundings sunk in. Wood walls, the grain so smooth they seemed to flow from the floor to the wall, to the ceiling. No windows, yet it was well lit. The furniture, such as it was, was all attached. Like the room itself, it all seemed to flow, or grow, together. He was lying on a long, flat log, covered in leaves, and Jean, the woman, the thing that appeared to be her, suddenly melted into it all. She didn't disappear, she just... faded. Images flashed in his mind of the creature that had attacked him... saved him?... at the tree... it was her... The creature shifted into view again, features appearing on its face, mist coalescing into hair the colour of fire... it was becoming Jean again. His voice was weak, but firm when he spoke "Don't do it. Not her." Her voice... like the rustle of leaves, in his head, telepathy like he had never experienced. It was fleeting, clear, and then passing away like wind. *Canst...hear...like...this...* "What? What are you trying to tell me?" *...formless.... voiceless...* "Then take some other form..." *Show...* Understanding was slow to creep into his muddled thoughts. The creature could only communicate with a form, one he provided. Prelate Summers' mind raced, then he settle on a form he could deal with. He concentrated. It had to be female of course... The creature began to solidify again. Features emerged, strong, but soiled, beaten, scarred below the surface. Her hair was a shade of green that would look out of place if it didn't seem so natural. Clothing, really just rags, formed over a body that was wracked by starvation and hardship, but still strong. Summers blinked. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn he was looking at Lorna Dane, one of the last mutants he had freed from the slave pens before the whole citadel had erupted into anarchy. "There be much pain in this form, for you. Also much hope. Who was she?" The voice was similar to the real Lorna's, but there was still that rustling of leaves, that hint of water over stones. "Who are you... where am I? What..." "A question for a question, an answer for an answer." The Prelate tried to rise from the leaves. Nausea forced him back down, and a tingling sensation in his chest made him look down. The remains of his shirt were gone, and so were the burns. Pale, pink flesh, newly healed, was all that remained of wounds that had been killing him. He looked back up at the changeling before him. "You did this." " A question for a question, an answer for an answer. Yes. That is my doing. How art thou called?" She looked at him with an intensity the Lorna Dane he had rescued couldn't have matched. "Prelate Summers... well.. Scott... Scott Summers." " A name that doth ring with the season of life. Welcome to my home Scottsummers." And she waited. It took him a moment to catch on. He was supposed to ask a question. "Who are you?" "I am dryad. I am the spirit of this tree. Thou art stranger to Geshem, yes?" "Apparently. Where is Geshem?" "Thou art in it. It be the land. Thy mind... strange. You know naught of where thou art?" "Actually, I'm confused...." "So you are. Tis plain in your thoughts. Might I enlighten you?" Suspicion flared up. "Maybe we should stick to talkin..." Her eyes locked on his, and he was swept away on the river of her thoughts. * * * "I want to go over it one more time." "As you wish, Scott Summers." "Please, Scott will be fine, Ste... Ms. Hunter." "Stephanie." "This world is called Geshem..." "This land, Scott. I know not of any other." "Fine, and I'm here because someone called the Mage summoned me?" "Yes." "Through magic." "Yes." "And he did this so that I could fight someone called the Pale Man, who has taken over a castle and your princess, who if I understand correctly has been to my world not once but twice." "Queen Rain, princess no longer, and yes. She and the Shaman, who was in attendance when the castle was seized." Tabitha watched as they went through it for the third time. The stranger didn't seem stupid. It was more like he was trying to find every bit of information possible. At least, the Hunter didn't seem to be getting nearly as listless as she herself was. They had been walking clear into morning, and the two of them didn't show any signs of tiring. "And the castle is also a power source of some kind?" The Hunter actually looked at her. Tabitha looked back. "Your the one who works for the Mage. You explain it." The Hunter looked at her unblinkingly. "You have served the Queen for years girl, and attend her when she trained with the Mage and the Shaman. I have not." Tabitha looked at her boots for a moment, then looked up at the stranger, but she couldn't maintain the gaze for more than a moment, and her eyes searched the forest as she spoke. "Well, as I understand it, the castle was built on something called the heart of magic', and because of something that happened a long time ago, the royal family is tied to it somehow, which is why the princess... the Queen that is, was hunted by that Magnus guy and the Beast. She is the key to controlling the power. Others, like the Mage and the... High Lords, use pieces of it. But she kind of touches it, and keeps it under control. Does that answer your question?" Cyclops thought for a moment. "How did the Pale Man get control of the castle when apparently its been tried and failed before?" Stephanie answered before Tabitha could. "The royal army was decimated in the battles with the Beast, who was stopped by the clawed man from your world. Those regiments that weren't involved were fighting a rebellion under the command of the Lord-Consort Doug and the Mage. The Mage returned with some forces, at the Shaman's request. They were ambushed and wiped out, except for the Mage, who was struck with a vile spell of the Pale Man's design. When they struck at the castle, only a small force led by the High Lords and their ladies was there to withstand them. The Pale Man had a large force of bandits, and many of his servants are creatures of magic and evil. There was no way to stop them." "You forgot to mention that they showed up inside the castle without opening the gate, that they slaughtered everyone they found, and that I couldn't do a damn thing to stop them when they..." Tears came to Tabitha's eyes, and she shut them, holding her fists against her face. Her shoulders shook, silently. Stephanie looked at Cyclops, then went to the girl, putting an arm around her shoulders. Cyclops stood by them, watching the forest. He recalled Logan and the professor's accounts of Geshem. Those High Lords had been versions of Bishop, Storm, Jean and himself. He wasn't too pleased to find out they were dead. By all accounts, these versions had been quite similar to those of his own world, powers included. If they had died... and he trouble accepting that Jean had died in _any_ world... let alone Bishop and Storm... After a few minutes, he broke the silence. "The sun's up. We should get moving." The Hunter rose up. After a moment, so did Tabitha. The Hunter spoke. "It would seem our best option would be to reach the Lord-Consort's forces. With their aid, we can free the Queen, and the Mage." "From what you told me, they are quite far away." "Several days ride." "Do we have time? Your mage wasn't in such great shape apparently." "We have no other choice." "A small force could infiltrate the castle and get the Mage and the Queen out. Without them, the Pale Man has the castle, but nothing else." "He also has the power of the castle, if he knows how to use it." "Does he?" "Magnus did, though it did him little good when your friend with the claws dealt with him. I suspect the Pale Man may not be as powerful as he was, but he's had more time to study it." "Another reason why we can't afford to wait. Besides, the Mage is the only one who can get me home. He can't do that if he's dead." *And even here, I won't let Nathan die if I can help it.* Cyclops kept that thought to himself. The professor's explanation of Geshem had included identifying the Mage as the reflection of Nathan Summers, Cable, his son. "I'm not sure the resistance has enough manpower to do what you're suggesting." "I won't need much. Two or three skilled people to break in, and two others to make their way to the Lord-Consort's forces." His eyes flicked to Tabitha. The Hunter nodded slightly. "Very well. There is a village not far from here. We can make contact with our people there, and then..." "And then Ms. Hunter, we storm the castle." * * * Far, far below the castle, in lightless passages guarded only by darkness, the Pale Man walked unhurried. He was alone. None of his followers were allowed to follow him here. None would bear witness to his failure. Though there was no light, he walked surely and without hesitation, turning through passages seemingly at random, moving around crevasses and pits as though they weren't there. Darkness was nothing to him. The mere absence of light couldn't begin to equal what was in his soul. The hallway, really just a path worn through the living stone by waters long gone, began to brighten. He barely noticed the light anymore. The crystal facets that began to appear in the cold stone gave him no pause. The sheer energy rippling in the air was little more than an annoyance. He paused only once to stare at the guardian he had placed here. The creature barely acknowledged him, lost in its own thoughts. The Pale Man walked on through the tunnel, now a large cavern, and out onto the ledge. His lips twisted in disgust, an uncharacteristically emotional reaction. The Heart of the Realm was so vast, so powerful, and so pure. Only the truly corrupt would dare attempt to control it, and he definitely met the description. He wasn't the fool old Magnus had been though. He wasn't ready to pull all the magic of Geshem into himself. Corruption allowed one to leash the power for a while, but only purity allowed one to use it for more than ordinary magic. If one was fortunate enough, like the royal line. to have that rare ability to touch it, as the Queen Rain did, then one could gain control over the very soulblood of the land, the power of life and death over all. He had no illusions of purity, but he had a plan. He looked down on the massive thing of pure energy and light that was the source of all magic in his world, and considered how he was going to corrupt it, utterly and totally. And then, it, and the land itself, would be his. END CHAPTER 5