Fate written in the Stars - Chapter 20
A royal meeting
Orion renters his observatory and sees Jeanne standing by his desk. He quickly walks over and joins her by the desk. ‘You thought of anyone good yet?’ He asks the saint who’s still looking down at the roster.
‘Unfortunately not yet.’ She responds, her head rising to look at Orion. ‘Unfortunately, you have a visitor who was a bit distracting for a while.’
‘A visitor? Do you know exactly who it…’
Orion’s words are cut off as an elderly man walks around from behind the telescope, a book open in his hand as he walks. Having heard Orion’s voice, he looks up from the book. ‘A fine observatory I must say.’ The old man says. ‘Plenty of books about alchemy is pleasing to my eyes. They may be of use for my search, so would you mind if I were to either set up my equipment here, or bring the books back to me to my room?’
‘Wait wait wait. Before I say anything to do with my books and observatory, can you at least tell me your name. I can hazard a guess to it, but I’m not totally sure.’ Orion says to slow down the situation, the old man gasping in response.
‘You select me for your Ragnarok business, then cannot match my name to my face. Frankly I am insulted by such a notion.’ The old man dramatically says as he slams the book closed, the loud slam almost like a dagger to Orion’s soul. ‘If you are to pick someone for your own ideas of where I am to put my life on the line, at least have the courtesy of knowing my name.’
‘Yep, that’s who you are.’ Orion mutters, sounding almost disappointed at something. ‘As long as none of my books are damaged in any way, including water stains on the pages, you can keep them while you wait. Although, if my guess is correct, you might not need to continue your search for the philosopher’s stone, Nicholas Flamel.’
‘Ah so you do remember my name. Splendid.’ The alchemist cheerfully responds. ‘Your terms are acceptable, we can consider that your payment in exchange for I fighting in your plan. And just so you know Mr Orion, the search for the philosopher’s stone shall never end.’
‘I would say that your own survival and being a hero to humanity is a good payment, but you do you I guess.’ Orion sighs. ‘Feel free to take as many books as you want or feel that you need, damage one of them though, and you won’t even get to fight in Ragnarok or find your precious philosopher’s stone.’
‘Very well, farewell Mr Orion. I shall wait for the word from you as to when you decide I shall fight. I may visit again if I finish this book so that I may borrow some more. I trust that our deal shall continue for then as well.’ Nicholas Flamel says as he walks past Orion to leave the observatory, choosing to ignore all of the demigod’s extra statements and threats.
With the alchemist out of the observatory, Orion lets out another sigh as he turns back to the roster. ‘Alright Jeanne, any ideas while I sorted that out?’
‘I am not familiar with these names for none are the Lord who guided me in life, but I can come up with a guess as to who may be next.’ Jeanne says as she stands up straight and stretches. ‘Considering we’ve just won, they’ll send out someone strong, and in fights to the death, who is stronger than a god of death? That’s if there is one on there.’
‘That would make sense. My only other guess would be Atropos. But if we’re to go with your idea, there’s two for us to consider. Isis and Izanami, the queen of the dead and afterlife, and the queen of Yomi respectively. Would Izanami be so annoyed by Veles’ death to fight though? I don’t think Isis would be either. Atropos would make sense to go next as a twisted joke from Nyx.’ Orion then pauses as his eyes light up and a smirk begins to appear on his face, a smirk that the saint next to him notices.
‘I assume you have a plan then Monsieur Orion.’ Jeanne asks.
‘Well…’ Orion begins, his voice showing his uncertainty. ‘There is one fighter here who I believe could fit well against all of them. A fighter who forged their own destiny, yet has a mountain of corpses beneath them. Come Jeanne, it’s time for us to pay a visit to royalty.’
Valhalla Arena
Waiting in the god’s corridor, Isis sits on a small seat that had been prepared, her staff resting up against the wall. The Egyptian goddess sits there in silence, the darkness around her the only thing to currently keep her company. She lets out a sigh before quietly muttering as her head looks up at the ceiling. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for this, though I doubt you will.’
A high pitched shrill can be heard from the main arena and Isis quickly stands up from the seat. ‘Welcome gods and goddesses, ladies and gentlemen, the time for the fourth round of Ragnarok is upon us.’ Tezcatlipoca can faintly be heard announcing.
‘This is it then.’ Isis mutters as she grabs her staff of papyrus and walks over to the entrance to the arena.
‘For those who have missed the previous rounds, let us catch you up to speed. The first two rounds went as expected with victory falling into the hands of Tiamat and Jormungandr, bringing the score to two-zero.’ Hermes announces to the crowd before Tezcatlipoca takes over.
‘But, this streak was brought to an end by humanity’s last representative as the assassin Mona Lisa slew the Slavic Chief god Veles. And so the score is now two to one, and the gods will be furiously attempting to prevent humanity from achieving any more victories.’
‘But humanity won’t go down without a fight, and the next representative is here.’
The doors on the human side begin to slowly open as the sound of children singing begins to echo around the arena. ‘Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, How does your garden grow? With Silver Bells and Cockles Shells And Marigolds all in a row.’ The song continues to loop as shivers run down the spine of everyone in the arena, the innocence of the children’s voices making everyone there feel a communal sense of unease.
‘In the Tudor times, England went through major major changes. Houses were joined together, but it brought about the reign of Henry the eight who brought the most drastic change. The catholic country went protestant for one man’s gain. But this change led to the creation of one who could be considered a villain to the English population. Her mother was divorced and forced to leave the country, leaving behind her daughter who came to resent the protestant movement. Her brother became king but died a young death, yet she didn’t receive the throne. And so, she killed like her father had so many times before. She took the throne, and it was time for her to fix her country as the first queen regent. She brought back catholicism, and those who refused to convert she burnt. The body count increased and her name was feared across the country.’ A figure begins to walk out into the arena as the crowd watches in fear while Hermes continues his introduction. ‘Now she is better known by her nickname, a name that she prefers over her true name. But here she is known by her title, and that is QUEEN MARY THE FIRST!’
Flames erupt behind the woman and illuminate her to the entire crowd, the silver crown atop her head shining from the light. Her face is completely serious as she looks forward at the opposite door.
‘Tch, not even my far superior son was selected for this.’ A king scoffs from his throne. ‘Instead the spawn of that useless woman, she couldn’t even give me a sufficient heir and instead gave me her.’ It’s almost like he’s spitting out those words in disgust at the end.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you Mary.’ Catherine of Aragon says in the stands. ‘I hope you can forgive me for not being with you.’
‘Now let’s see who you’ll be up against Mary.’ Orion mutters from the stands, his chin resting on his hand, Jeanne stood to his side. ‘Let’s hope that our guess was correct.’
‘And now for the god representative.’ Tezcatlipoca begins. The ground shakes as sarcophaguses begin to rise out of the ground to create a pathway through the arena leading directly to Queen Mary. ‘During the times of ancient Egypt, a battle for the throne took place. Osiris battled his brother, and was felled by Set’s acts. Yet this story didn’t end there. Osiris’ corpse was brought down to the underworld and the process of mummification was made. But he could not fully be saved.’ As Tezcatlipoca continues, the doors open as the god begins to walk out between the sarcophaguses. ‘Horus was conceived and defeated his uncle for the throne. But despite this, he is not our one to fight. Instead we focus on his mother, a goddess of motherhood and the afterlife, the creator is mummification and goddess of the afterlife. She is none other than the Egyptian goddess IIIIISSSSSIIIIISSSSS!!!’
‘Remind those humans just what they’re facing in this competition.’ Ra mutters from his throne in the stands.
Isis stops walking forward and plants her staff on the ground, a solemn look from her meeting Mary’s stern look. ‘So I am against a queen of humanity.’ Isis says to the English woman. ‘Do you think they shall forgive me for what I am to do here?’
‘Forgive you for what?’ Mary coldly responds. ‘If you are wondering if humanity will forgive you for my death, then don’t worry, there’ll be nothing to forgive.’
Isis quietly mutters something beneath her breath which no one else can hear, her lip movements hiding her words. The sarcophaguses disappear back into the ground and the two women are left staring each other down. ‘And with the arena cleared, let the fourth rounds of Ragnarok, BEGIN!’
Mary simply closes her eyes as Isis is quick to act, beginning to close the distance between them with her staff readied in her hand. Mary’s eyes suddenly open as the ruby in her crown shines. ‘The headsman.’
Isis is suddenly forced to her knees as her chin rests on a cold stone, her hands tied behind her by rope. She attempts to stand back up, but it almost feels like the heavy foot of an executioner presses down on her back. Isis’ eyes look up and see a large axe floating in midair, casting a shadow down onto the arena floor as the blade shines in the light.
‘Upon the queen’s orders, serve your death sentence.’ The crowd gasps in shock as the axe swings down through the air at Isis, the goddess stuck in place. The axe slices through the air and appears to decapitate the goddess as the axe meets the cold stone, Isis’ head rolling forward off the block.
Yet there was one confusing thing about this execution, a detail that caught Mary’s attention. A thin white trail leads back to the headless body of Isis, a trail that almost appears to be made of paper. Mary waves her hand and the axe and stone both disappear, her gaze remaining on the decapitated head.
‘Is she dead?’ Hermes asks, confused as to the events unfurling. ‘Where did that axe come from? And what in Helheim is that white trail?’
‘It seems that very few gods are familiar with Mother’s capabilities. It shouldn’t be too difficult considering they know of her actions with father.’ Horus says in the audience, his confidence firmly placed in the goddess below.
As if Horus had willed it, the paper trail begins to retract, bringing Isis’ head along with it. The head returns to her body as Isis stands back up, her head reattached to the body. ‘Amazing! Isis is back up and ready for more action after having her head completely removed.’ Tezcatlipoca loudly announces to everyone there, Horus and Ra sighing and shaking their heads in disappointment.
‘So you have some tricks to help you survive.’ Mary mutters, her eyes locked with Isis’. ‘No matter, your head shall fall either way.’
‘I am not ready to give up just yet, so try as you want, but until I decide the time is right, you shall not claim my life.’