Tea Time With Gods, Legends And My Gwenpai’s Fist

== 3:00 PM, Monday May 13th, Big High ==
The bell rings. School is out for the day. Gwen heaves a sigh of relief as history class finishes, lifts her messenger bag up and is out of the door before anyone else--a benefit to sitting next to the door. She drops by her locker, puts away her history book with the certainty that she won’t need to use it to study that week, and takes out a skateboard. She puts an earbud into one ear, starting up her playlist, beginning with some absolutely classic Avril Lavigne, and rolls out of the school doors, ignoring the shouts by the janitor about dirty stripes on her floor.
Gwen stops at the crossing, waiting for the red light, and leans against a lantern pole. She shuffles through her music and listens back to some recordings by her band Rescue; The Girls. Their first single, Crispy’s Ride, had had some small success. She was still pondering whether they should work to release Why Did You. It was a rather improvised song, but very effective in conveying emotion.
Flick hurtled off ahead of his friends, plastic wheels crunching against the pavement as he laughed over his shoulder, “Give up, you slowpokes! You’ll never keep up!” 
The wind picked up Aman and Hana’s hair as they rushed in after their friend, legs pumping to keep up with their friend. It was typical of Flick to issue a challenge after he’d started off, leaving his friends to roll their eyes before humoring him. This wasn’t the first time Flick had pulled something like this. Each time before had ended with him getting thwarted by Hana. Today, however, it seemed like she didn’t care as much, putting in just enough effort to keep up with Aman. 
Aman saw it moments before it happened. The Eye prickled at his attention, drawing it from Flick who was still hurling friendly jibes over his shoulder to Gwen, lost in whatever she was listening to. Time shifted, letting events play out in slow motion. Flick’s laughter morphing into a panicked scream as he swerved to avoid Gwen. Plastic scraped against concrete, the board shifting and toppling. Time caught up with Flick as hard as he hit the ground. The boy bounced, rolling over and landing on his back. His skateboard clattering unharmed a few feet away. 
“FLICK!” their worry flowed in unison. 
The boy groaned, slowly lifting one arm to give them a thumbs up, “I’m okay...sidewalk broke my fall...” 
Gwen’s earbuds didn’t drown out sound from the outside world completely, even with music blasting from them, so when Flick hit the sidewalk right beside her she turned around and looked shocked and concerned as she hurried over to him. “Flick! What the shit? Are you sure you’re okay?”
She looked him over and reached a hand for him to help him sit up. “You gotta learn to take it slow sometimes, you can’t just rush towards your death like a knight without their suit of armour.” She pokes one of Flick’s kneepads. “Although you at least have some protection.” She looks at his head, which lacks a helmet. “...but not the most important part, I see.”
Flick took Gwen’s hand, pulling himself up with a groan. He blinked at her a few times attempting to clear the pounding in his head. “Y-yeah...I was just gettin’ to know the ground. It’s pre-”
Then Aman and Hana swamped the pair.
“The hell were you thinking?” Aman chided.
“Maybe if you’d look where you’re going…” Hana’s hand explored Flick’s head, seeking out bumps and bruises.
“You’re okay, right?” Aman’s voice was softer now. 
“...you’d actually win for a change.” 
“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Flick shrugged them all off, face deep red, “Nothin’ but a flesh wound okay?” He rolled onto the balls of his feet, springing back up with a grin. “Wait, not even that.” He spread his arms with a flourish only to stumble in Hana’s already waiting arms. 
“Okay. Right. Yuhuh.” Hana rolled her eyes dryly, supporting Flick’s briefly limp form, “Hey Gwen.” 
“Hey.” Aman’s greeting was highlit by Flick’s slurred one. He blinked at his friend, willing the Eye to stir and give Flick a once over. Nothing, thankfully. He shot Gwen a reassuring smile as Flick mumbled a few more things into Hana’s shoulder. None of them were wearing helmets, a fact Aman hoped Gwen would choose to ignore. 
“Okay...maybe I took a little hit.” Flick chuckled, still clinging to Hana.
Gwen shook her head at the three of them and gave Aman a look. “I guess we’re lucky that our friend Flick here has the superpower of having a thick skull.”
She smiled and reached into her messenger bag, taking out a thermos. She opened it and slid out a cold can of coke that she holds up by Flick’s head and gestures for him to hold it to his head to cool the spot and lessen the swelling. “At least you’re not too stubborn to admit when you’re hurt.”
Gwen walked back to her skateboard and picked it up. “Were y’all headed to the skate park? I haven’t checked it out yet since that attack there the other day.”
"Oh, he's got one of the thickest." Hana grinned.
"Absolutely. Nothing gets through." Aman chimed in, his humor returned now that Flick seemed okay.
"Exactly! It's like a nice, stron-" Flick's triumphant smile faded, brows furrowing, "HEY!" 
Aman and Hana burst out into laughter, Hana now supporting herself against Flick. It wasn't long before Flick was shaking along with his friends, his laughter drowning out the others. He winced, almost pulling away from the cold of the can for a moment before taking it from Gwen. A relaxed sigh bubbled past the boy's lips, his eyes closing as he relaxed with the cool comfort of the can. 
"'Course not. Being stubborn doesn- oh, ahh, that's good..." Flick trailed off.
Aman visibly winced at the mention of the skatepark. He looked away, hand at the back of his neck as the day's memories came rushing. The crabfaces with their power copying. Them coming after Seth. That moment at the docks with Narsus and Rhiannon. He grit his teeth. Something had happened, something neither had wanted to tell him. If he hadn't listened to Rhi and just gone after Narsus somehow. If he hadn't...Aman pushed the images out of his head. Not now. Not while he was with his friends.
Hana was already talking to Gwen, "...that crab thing came out of nowhere. If your friends hadn't been there, I doubt we'd have a skatepark to go check out today." Hana's eyes lingered on Aman with the word 'friends', a cloud of suspicion floating across them before she returned to Gwen with a soft smile, "Wanna come with us?"
"Yeah, I heard," Gwen nods at Hana. "I'm glad that things got resolved okay. One of my 'friends' got hurt pretty bad. I'd love to join y'all today, but I actually have some studying I need to do for a History test."
She snapped her fingers. "That reminds me! Aman, you're pretty good at History, right? Could you help me with it maybe?"
Hana's face fell a little, "Are they going to be okay?" she blinked, shrugging off her concern with a smile, "Right. Maybe another time?" 
Aman's ears perked, brow slightly rising. He looked from Gwen to Hana and then back, ignoring Flick's musings about how he'd cherish coke more than ever now, "Y-yeah. Sure, Gwen. No worries." he turned to his friends apologetically, "Rain check on the park?"
Hana's eyes darted between the pair as well. Aman felt his worry spike until she punched his shoulder with a grin, "Alright. Guess Flick and I will rule the halfpipes alone." 
Flick raised his arms, "Yeah! Bow down to your lor- ow!" he winced as Hana tugged him along by the arm, "Later y'all!"
Gwen gave Hana a thumbs up and a crooked smile in response to her asking if her ‘friend’ would be okay, as if to signal she knew Narsus would be fine—when she clearly didn’t.
As Flick and Hana went off, Gwen turned back and eyed the red ‘Don’t Walk’ signal. “Quite a handful, those two, huh?”
He chuckled with a wide armed shrug, "Hana's alright. But yeah, Flick's a handful for the both of us." Aman tugged at the strap of his backpack, clutching his board tighter when the 'Don't Walk' signal shifted to a green 'Walk' one. As they crossed the road he shot Gwen a questioning look, "You don't really need help with History do you?"
“Well,” Gwen said in a conspiratorial tone, then let fall an ominous silence for a few moments.
“I do need help with History, but I was actually thinking of hitting up the Danger Room and could use a sparring partner.”
Gwen shot Aman a smile. She often used the Danger Room alone, but anyone looking into her Danger Room history would find her only fighting herself in there, or using it to spar with teammates of flesh and blood.
He blinked, confused for a moment before his smile reappeared. She'd nearly had him there. Aman's chuckle however faltered midway into a cough. 
"S-sparring partner?" he looked at her incredulously for a moment before returning the smile, "Gwen, I'm flattered I guess. Sparring huh. I don't know, I feel like you might just snap me like a twig." 
Aman let words hang for a moment his smile growing into a grin, "You'd have to catch me for that first, of course."
Gwen laughed back and then got a serious dead-faces expression as she grabbed Aman’s arm and pulled him closer. “You are already dead.”
She patted him on the head and let go. “Don’t get too cocky,” she smiled again. You never know when danger will strike, and in public you can’t do so much without your powers, she thought, but left that unspoken. She’d be better off telling Aman that in the Danger Room. It was okay to have this be a light-hearted moment.
Yeah, great job keeping it light-hearted, GWEN. ‘You are already dead’, REALLY?
"W-what?!" Aman shifted from shock to mirroring Gwen's dead faced expression as their eyes locked. Despite that brief pang of fear he couldn't hold his composure for long, breaking out into laughter. 
"Don't worry." he nudged her with his elbow, cheeks flushing a little at the head pat, "I'll save that for after I win." 
It felt good just hanging out with Gwen like this. A lot of their recent time together had been on missions and not with always the greatest results. He glanced at her again, happy to see her cracking jokes and smiling as opposed to sallow faced in the infirmary and freaking out about needles. Gwen was easy to talk to, he'd realized that long ago, and he felt her presence lull him into that comfort again. 
What do you fear so much? a voice bubbled into his head, Fear will hold you back. She comes offering a spar, not single combat. The Eye. Aman shrugged it off, trying to drown the Eye's words. Thoughts? He still wasn't sure what to exactly call them. But it was right, Gwen's sudden offer of a spar had put him on edge slightly. Why him?
"Wanna cut past the canal and get home faster?" Home. He didn't remember when he'd started using that for the base as well.
Gwen raises an eyebrow at Aman and smirks. She drops her skateboard onto the pavement. "Race you there."
She takes off without awaiting a response, zooming to the other side of the street right as the Walk signal turns red. With her powerful steps she can manage to kick off hard and go faster than most skaters. Skating was really just a naturally fast way for her to get around, and while it had taken her a while to get the hang of it, it now came as naturally as flying with magical swords to her.
Perhaps... more naturally than flying with magical swords, now.
"Wha?" Aman blinked as Gwen took off, "Hey! Gwen!" 
He swore as the 'Walk' signal turned red again, board clattering onto the pavement. Aman took off down the street, eyes darting between his path and Gwen on the other side of the street. It wasn't long before he was already working up a sweat trying to keep up with her. Fast. She was so fast. Each kick sent Gwen further and further away. Aman prided himself over his skateboarding prowess, even if he didn't openly fling it around like Flick did. Geez, Gwen. How. Are. You. So. Fast? he huffed, focusing on an upcoming street side bench.
Aman's foot slid across his board right as he popped the tail, the resulting 'ollie' carrying him off the ground. The front trucks of his skateboard struck the back of the bench, squealing as the grind carried him forward. Another quick kickflip - entirely to show off - sent him soaring halfway across the street. He landed in a crouch to absorb the impact of his landing, glad the street was empty. 
"Behind you!" he called out, working to close the distance.
While Gwen was fast, Aman definitely was the better boarder. She could only do basic tricks, which kept her from the easiest shortcuts, grinding down railings of staircases for foot traffic.
She made a turn and looked back. Shit, he’s so close!
“You may be better at taking shortcuts—“ she called out to him, then made another turn before looking back again, “but I’m better at making them!”
Gwen was headed right at a busy intersection, but showed no signs of slowing down. She stepped more, harder, faster. Then, right on the curb, she kicked down with one foot, reaching to grab her board, and sailed through the air over the cars and trucks and a Big Elementary school bus. To Gwen, it felt like the world was in slow motion... and then she landed on the other side. Too hard, and a loudly audible crack erupted from her board. Gwen stumbled and fell forward off the board, coming down in a three-point landing. She rose up reflexively, stumbled backwards, and fell on her backside next to the broken board.
Though it could barely hold a candle to flying, Aman loved this feeling. The wind rushing through his hair, the burning in his legs, the deep, measured breaths. It wasn't flying, but it was damn well close to it. He skirted the edge of the sidewalk with his turn, Gwen still dancing at the edges of his reach.
It all moved too fast. And then all too slow.
"Gwen!" his voice drowned in the din of the traffic.
Aman kicked off the curb after her, fingers tense against the edge of his board. His momentum carried him forward first, knees bent against his chest. It wasn't the best jump, he'd messed the timing last second, but just as Aman should have come down onto a roaring pickup, he continued to soar. The Eye's warmth embraced him as he flew, letting his powers carry him the rest of the distance. He landed with more grace than that jump would have allowed, wheels screaming against the concrete as he arced around her. A quick flick brought the board to his fingers, a crouch brought him to her eye level.
"Hey, you okay?" now that the rush had faded, worry enveloped his voice. He glanced at the broken board, gone beyond repair, then back to her.
Gwen grimaced. "Yeah, I'm okay. Mostly hurt my pride." She looks to the side and her grimace intensifies. "By which I mean my board. Really shouldn't have called it Pride. And now it's broken right before June, too. Fuck me."
She picked it up, still in one piece but with a clear break in the center. Then she looked at Aman. "Also I can't fault you for using your powers when I did it first, but aren't you exposing yourself in public? Also also..." She gave him a smirk, showing her chastising was meant to be mild and not too serious... for now, "aren't you gonna help a lady up?"
Aman's concerned expression twisted as he attempted to and ultimately failed at holding back laughter, "You named your board, Pride?" he chortled, "Not a- not a bad name."
That clean break was going to be a hard fix, and even then it just wouldn't ride as well as it used to. He stared at it, lips pursed before Gwen's comment brought the heat to his cheeks. "Huh? Oh. I..." he glanced around over his shoulders. A few people had stopped to watch the pair but most moved on about their own business, "I don't think they noticed much. We're just a buncha crazy kids on skateboards to 'em." 
Aman offered her his hand with a grin, "Apologies, my lady." He waited till they were both on their feet again, "I've got a spare one at home. You can have that."
Gwen accepted Aman's hand. She shook her head at him. "Nonono! It was my stupidity, my fault. I can just walk the rest of the way to the base, it's not too far anymore anyway."
She glanced around at the staring people. "Which she should be quick to get to, let's go."
"I meant for the summer." he rolled his eyes, tugging her along and away from their little audience, "Yeah, we're nearly there."
Gwen opened her mouth to protest again, but closed it wordlessly. She picked up Pride and started walking.
The two arrived at the greenhouse that hides the new Big Team base shortly thereafter. Gwen walking, Aman stepping alongside her, occasionally veering off to circle around a tree or bench. Gwen still gave him a look for not wearing a helmet, especially during his big stunt earlier, but held her tongue. It's not like she's any better.
== 3:20 PM, The Botanical Gardens ==
They entered the botanical gardens that the greenhouse houses, walked towards the back to a cordoned off area, and took an elevator leading down.
"Welcome home, Capitan, Herald," GAIA's voice sounded from the speakers in the elevator.
"Tadaima," Gwen said in a flat tone, instinctively recalling her introduction to anime aboard GAIA’s spaceship body.
"Oh!" GAIA said, and immediately began to speak to Gwen in rapid Japanese.
The girl looked flustered and waved her hand at the speakers. "Nonono! I don't--"
"Nihongo ga hanasemasen ka?" GAIA sounded. "Ehhhh~"
Gwen stomped her foot. "GAIA, are you making fun of me? Not cool, robo-mom!"
Aman fell against the elevator wall, shaking with laughter. Gwen's reactions were enough to make out what had gone without understanding a lick of Japanese. He'd never actually seen her get all flustered like that before, but it was nice, this little moment. He pressed a hand to his mouth at 'robo-mon', shaking harder. 
"Sore o totemo kantan ni shimasu, my pilot~" GAIA responded, their voice dripping with mirth.
Then the elevator doors dinged open, the Base's new foyer greeting the pair. 
"Thank you, GAIA." he grinned up at the speakers. Or wherever that hidden camera was. He was certain GAIA kept watch over necessary parts of the base. 
He turned to Gwen once the doors shut behind them, forcing the next few words out, "Directly to the Danger Room then?"
"Let's take a small detour," Gwen directed Aman, making a twirly motion with her finger as if to gesture for him to follow. "Getting some hydration and snacks for breaktime later so we don't have to haul ass all the way back up here just for that."
They passed through the kitchen, where Gwen took a pair of bottles of water from the fridge and handed them to Aman. Then she looked through the cupboards and--at the signs of disappointment inside--fished a hairpin out of her pocket and put one end inside the lock of the corner cabinet and wiggled it around inside until it popped open. She put a finger to her lips for Aman to stay quiet, then fished a box of premium chocolates and two bags of imported crisps out of it before locking it again.
She stuffed the snacks into her messenger bag before they continued their trip down to the Danger Room.
Aman loved the base kitchen, furnished and stocked like a restaurant. Appropriate, he reasoned, for the small 'army' it had to feed. He mirrored Gwen's disappointment, eyes scanning the contents of the cabinet. Turns out fully stocked didn't always mean satisfying. 
He shouldn't have been surprised when Gwen accessed a hidden carpet. His expression betrayed him though, eyes wide long enough for her to notice before he nodded, shot her a wink, and drew his fingers along his lips to 'zip' them up..
"Danger Room access. Capitan. Herald." GAIA greeted them in the control room, "How may I set it up today?" 
Aman glanced at Gwen, unease about sparring her spiking up again.
Gwen walked over to the control panel of the Danger Room and wiggled her fingers. "Got any preferences for location or environmental hazards, Herald?" She said, switching over seamlessly to Aman's hero name.
Gwen was already adjusting some sliders and pressing buttons, muttering to herself more than speaking to GAIA. Perhaps she wanted the control herself, or maybe she wanted Herald to not know what she was doing.
Out in the center of the Danger Room, different setups fizzled into being and got replaced by one another in a sequence. An ancient Roman temple with a statue of the goddess Mars, an old Welsh castle with wailing ghostly noises, the city of Cairo at night, then a neon-lit cyberpunk version of Cairo, followed by the jungles of the Amazon.
"Huh?" he blinked, brows furrowing, "I'm good with anything really...Capitan."
He watched Gwen play around with the room's controls, the Danger Room beyond the window shifting to match her preferences. From Rome, to an old castle that sent shivers down his spine, to Cairo - twice. He felt the Eye stir at the sight of Cairo, a strange mix of emotions swirling from it. He couldn't quite place them. It felt like recognition, but there were other sensations buried within. A place he would to spar? It came to him, quicker than he'd hoped. Somewhere he'd faltered recently. Somewhere he'd wished he could have done more. 
"How about the skatepark?" Herald offered, walking over to the control panel.
"The skatepark sounds--" Gwen gives Herald a sideways look, as if to see if he was sure. "Sounds good."
She asked GAIA to fill out the rest of the parameters, but didn't request any opponents or bystanders. She walked over to a storage area and took out some strips of cloth that she began to wrap around her hands.
"Alright, I'll engage you with hand-to-hand combat," Gwen said, walking to the center of the skate park, near the edge of a half-pipe in the ground. "Come at me with all you've got."
The Danger Room never failed to impressed, recreating an exact replica of the skatepark on a nice warm day. The emptiness was jarring, he'd never really seen it like that - and he wasn't sure if he would anytime soon. He chuckled at some graffiti - Gwen's handiwork, he remembered. 
Gone now. It had been right where the Crabface had exploded. Hana and Flick would be at the skatepark by now, seeing a version very different than what lay before him.
"Wait...hand-to-hand?" Aman's brows shifted from furrowed to raised, "Gwen wait...I don't know about that." 
He'd seen what she could do. Besides, he'd already been thinking of throwing some illusions her way to help get in some lucky Eye Beam shots. That's what the Eye let him to do. Engage directly though? It had been a while since he'd done that as a first option. He rubbed the back of his neck, chewing on his bottom lip. Why had she chosen him for this?
Gwen had already assumed a ready fighting stance, facing Herald, fists held up.
"What, are you saying you're not good at it? It's sparring. It's training for a reason. I'm not gonna punch your eye out," she assured him. She hopped from one leg onto the other, as if doing warm-up exercises, and did a few practice punches as if she were shadow boxing--finishing up with one last punch in Herald's direction, though he stood well outside of her reach.
Her stance relaxed a bit. "But if you really prefer, we can make it hand-to-Eye combat," she said, gesturing at the Eye of Horus. "The magic one, of course. Unless you've been hiding any other abilities from us?"
Aman laughed nervously, shaking his head, "It's not that...I don't think I'm the best candidate for it? Yeah, please don't punch the Eye out. I need it- both." 
The way she hopped from one leg to another, throwing around shadow punches to warm up reminded him of his uncle. And of Esam. How many times had he been on the receiving end of something like this? Aman shrugged, sliding his left foot back, raised slightly to maximise mobility. He could do this. 
"Hand-to-Eye?" he blinked, shaking his head, "Nah. I'm a man of few secrets." Obvious lie.
He wasn't going to give Gwen the chance. No. The left Eye flared up with bubbling moonlight. He launched himself forward, closing the distance between them. Right as he entered her range, Aman spun to the right, and the left, and straight on. Three of him. Grinning and circling her. 
"Which me is me?"
Gwen watched as Herald split himself into three. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she smiled.
"You make good use of your powers, Herald," she said, glancing side-to-side at the illusions around her, trying to suss out the real Herald. "Are you sure you should have let all three of you get so close, though?"
She spun around, kicking up a leg that swept through the air in a circle around her. She turned a full circle before coming back to a rest in her fighting stance.
Aman couldn't help but let a smirk stretch across his face. 
It didn't last.
He pulled back in panic, faster than either of his illusions. Gwen's kick arced through the first two, narrowly missing him in his backwards stumble. It was badly done, Aman's footing was off balance, surprise stretched across his face. Cocky, he snapped at himself, Got too cocky!
"Alright yeah, I messed up there!" he shot back, "Won't make it that easy next time!"
"There won't be a next time--" Gwen said through gritted teeth as she bent her legs, "--if you're not FAST ENOUGH."
She kicked off the ground in a similar fashion to when they were racing each other on their skateboards. She shot forwards at Herald and lunged at him with and outstretched arm and clenched fist. She wasn't going to let up the attack now that he had gotten in close. When someone got in close, they could be punched. When someone could get punched, they could lose. And Gwen was very, very competitive.
Shit! He hadn't expected Gwen to come in this hard. His Eye caught the surging fist before he did. Herald stepped back quickly, more controlled than his earlier stumble, power arcing through him. Pain followed the arc of power, making him wince as the real Herald faded from view. It wasn't perfect, a trained eye would catch the strange shimmer where he was. He just hoped Gwen would keep her focus on the image he'd left behind. 
'Herald' popped into nothingness the second Gwen's fist made contact.
"Hah! Bamboozled!" he reappeared, laughing. The Eye sparked with power, "My turn!"
Gwen was getting frustrated. Then again, she should've expected this. Herald was first and foremost an illusionist. While she enjoyed sparring, the lack of physical connection made her feel like she was the only one sparring, like she was being toyed with. The punches landed on the illusion Herald had left behind, and she swore under her breath as she realized she'd just caught another fake Herald.
Then again, she had told Herald to go all out. Maybe it was time for her to do so as well?
She took a deep breath to try and center herself, touching her fingertips together. While Herald's Eye sparked with power, Gwen's eyes closed as she travelled back into the past with her senses. They extended beyond her, and in her mind she saw herself of scant few seconds before, lunging at the illusion of Herald. This time, there was a clear haze over him, as if she could see what was an illusion and what wasn't. She concentrated, brought her vision closer to the present, until she could see Herald, the real Herald, with a different kind of shimmer over himself as he kept himself invisible to normal view.
She stepped around slowly to feel out how different the present was from her experience of the past. Then, as she thought she'd caught on to Herald's position, she lashed out again, and struck him with her fist.
Maybe it was the fact that he'd gotten too cocky. Maybe it was that he'd managed to fool Gwen. Or maybe because he was confident in his ability to avoid detection. Either way, neither Herald nor the Eye saw the strike coming for them in time. The Eye called attention to it too late. He attempted to dodge it too late.
The fist connected. Hard. 
Pain shot across Herald's jaw as he tumbled . He hit the floor, then rolled over once more, shimmering back into view. He lay there on his back, groaning as he attempted to shake off the hit. He hadn't expected her to come in that hard, even with the Eye's protection that hit stung. He flexed his jaw a couple times, feeling the raw stinging from her hit subside slightly. He sat up, one arm draped over a knees, the other gingerly touching where she'd struck. As if to add insult to injury, GAIA sprung up a scoreboard midair with a light fanfare. 1 - 0.
"I thought we were going hand-to-Eye!"
"We are!" Gwen shouted back. There was a look of worry on her face a second after her fist connected as she saw it happen in her mind, but it quickly faded as Herald collected himself. She didn't enjoy hurting him, but she did enjoy the sparring, the exercise, some time spent together with teammates. Plus, she was pretty Herald could take it, even if he didn't know it yet himself.
"You've shown off your Eye and now you're getting the hand!"
She made a few quick jabs at Herald to keep up the pressure as she kept stepping closer towards him. Her eyes were still closed, viewing the past.
"I'm not even using my own eyes at this point, do you really think you can beat me without your hands?"
Herald leapt back up to his feet, toes grazing the floor as he hovered away from Gwen's jabs.
"Don't gotta use my hands while I've got the Eye. Maybe if you used yours you'd have hit me sooner!" he winked, the Eye sparking with energy.
Gwen briefly stops her assault, a frown on her face. “Hmmm, perhaps you’re right...”
She thinks for a moment, standing still, almost meditatively. Then, as soon as it stopped, her attacks continue, as she leaps forward at Herald. Her fists lash out with renewed vigor and purpose as she aims for his face.
She aims for the Eye.
Herald's eyes widen as Gwen's fists swing at his face. He floats back to dodge the first. The second his insanely fast, and he barely manages to duck under it, fist grazing his hair. He whips around, floating back, one heel grazing the ground.
"Whoa hey! W-why are you going for the Eye?"
She says nothing now, keeping on punching, pushing Herald back. Eventually he’d hit the wall or have to go around her. Then she’d strike.
"Gwen?" his voice shook a little. 
Maybe it was from having to duck and dodge under a constant barrage of punches, maybe it was because he'd lost track of how many times he'd called out her name and gotten nothing. He was slowing down with each attempted strike, his movements less graceful. Herald's feet hit the ground as he dodged to the right, Gwen's fist grazing against his left cheek. That was close! He barely managed to duck beneath the next one, stumbling but catching himself. Sweat rolled down his brow, while Gwen seemed to have barely broken on at all. The Eye sparked, urging him to blast her with an Eye Beam. But this close? Even his most concussive beam could cause serious damage at this range. Feint. You don't actually have to use it, boy, the Eye offered. Right.
More energy pooled into the Eye, sparks growling across the surface. Hoping Gwen would dodge the beam in either direction before he fired it, Herald took a step back.
And found himself backed up against the Danger Room wall. Or a halfpipe in the skatepark.
"Shit."
Gwen still says nothing, but she smirks as she knows she has him. Her fist shot out again.
The Eye sparks as it fires off a beam.
Gwen's hand hits against the beam, meets its force, gets pushed back, but she punches through it.
The fist hits the Eye.
And for a second, it feels as if its concussive blasts hits all over here, are light engulfs her mind's eye. Too late, Gwen realizes that she's still using retrocognition, but now it has a new target. The Eye. She feels as if she's sucked through a vortex, before she gets dropped down and deposited in an unfamiliar void, like a ghost.
== An Ancient Past ==
"More mead?"
The voice is familiar. The void dissipates and she sees there are two people, sitting on pillows around a low table. The source of the voice is familiar to Gwen, as her eyes move over the figure of a muscular woman in a fancily embroidered tunic, with pale, mottled green skin and flowing golden blonde hair put up in a bun. Her eyes are black pools and they look intently at another figure across the table. Folded up on a low three-legged stool beside her lay a smith’s thick leather apron and gloves.
"From you, my dear?" the other voice is deep and rich, the tone brimming with confidence, "I would be more than delighted to." 
He leans forward, holding his cup out to the woman. Mismatched eyes gaze back into her's, one brimming with sunlit brightness, the other with the soft glow of the moon. For a brief moment he appears to have the head of a falcon, covered in rich gold and blue plumage, then as if it's a trick of the light, it shimmers away into a handsome humanoid face, the feathers remaining where the hair should be. The figure wears little more than a lioncloth, an Egyptian shendyt, rippling muscles under his dark bronze skin glowing in the candlelight.
He lifts the cup to his mouth, eyes still on the woman as he gulps down the mead. "I do relish these little encounters." 
Outside of the rug the table and cushions sit on, the room appears to shift and shimmer itself. One moment it's made of expertly crafted bricks of limestone, the walls etched or embossed with varying series of hieroglyphs, above which gods and mortals mingle, sometimes in worship, sometimes in revelry, and occasionally for mercy. The room is bright under the many rushlights, reed torches, and oil lamps. Braziers crackle with fire, or are those fireplaces? The room is made of stone, torches crackling on strong round pillars. Rich tapestries hang on the walls, embroidered knights triumphant in their quests, slaying dragons , liberating the oppressed. Some distance behind the woman, as if around a corner, is a deep arm glow, the sound of distant hammers. Then the room is made of some smooth white material, lines of ethereal energy cascading along the floor, the walls, the ceiling. It appears as brightly lit as before, though no discernable source of light is present.
"How long has it been now?" Horus smiles.
"Oh, too long," Nimue replies with an amused, almost seductive tone. "Years, epochs, eras, yonks. You know better the ways in which time is measured. I count only the clanking of hammers and the gifts of my lovers."
She pours herself another cup of mead as well, filling it almost to the brim. She swivels it around as she sniffs it, her eyes on Horus.
"I don't often connect with gods, but any foreigner is welcome in my quarters at least once, and you've never given me reason to deny you. Have you come to request some smithwork of me, or is this more of a 'social' visit?"
"Yonks? That is new. It is arduous, keeping track of time with lives like ours." Horus laughs, hearty and rich, "Speaking of gifts."
He gestures over the table, silver and gold trails tracing patterns across his skin, down to his fingers and out. A vague shimmer gives way to a clay jar of masterful craftsmanship. Intricate trees are etched into the clay, the neck adorned with appears to be a date. Horus gestures again and another jar follows, adorned with etchings that appear to be pomegranates. 
"If we feel the need for something other than mead, the finest date and pomegranate wines are yours." his smile is satisfied but also eager. He chuckles at Nimue's question, "And you have never given me reason to not enjoy your company. I believe the gifts answer your question?"
Nimue claps her hands together at the gift of wine. "Oh Horus, I would say you shouldn't have, but that would be dishonest of me."
She smiles and reaches for the date wine. "But of course," she says, as the vision begins to fade away, the voices becoming more muted and distant. "A gift from the Earth of faraway lands I shall gladly recei--"
The vision is cloudy and no longer can Gwen comprehend the words. Streaks of colour swirl around and through her in the void she floats in, bodiless. She tries to collect her thoughts on what she had just seen. She's spoken to Nimue many times, but only as a sword, as a spirit, never having seen her in the flesh. And Horus! She's met gods before, but never an Egyptian one.
The void around her begins to solidify again, distant noises becoming clearer and more distinct.
== The Second Vision ==
Horus sits at the table once more, appearing far less regal than he did before. There are feathers missing on part of his head and a bronze and linen eyepatch covers what had previously been his left eye. Linen bandages cover his parts of his arm and chest, one wet with what appears to be liquid sunlight. A drop rolls down his arm before he wipes it away near his elbow. 
“Nimue…” even his voice is a little haggard, lacking that charm and confidence that had so filled it, “I need your aid.”
He waves his hand over the table, fingers glowing with ethereal light. The shape stretches and solidifies, taking the form of a staff of solid bronze and gold, inlaid at intervals with oak. Fine, intricate patterns run along the length, detailed enough to be almost mesmerizing. This beauty is marred by an ugly crack the spirals halfway down the staff.
Nimue is walking around, and places a bowl of swampy water in front of Horus. She waves her hand over it, and the water clears. Her face is almost passive, but small movements betray concern, and determination. She puts a cloth down next to the bowl. Only after this does she sit down on her knees and reach for the staff.
"Broken," she comments, "but not destroyed. What happened?"
Horus dips the cloth into the water, dabbing away at his bleeding wound. Each dip of the cloth into the water leaves it shimmering a silver-gold, brighter and brighter every time.
“My Uncle. The god Seth.” he looks at her, his expression pained, “I should have known. All of us should have seen his treacherous thoughts. He murdered my father, desiring to claim his throne for himself. His rebellion did not stop there. My father was not enough. He went after my people. My followers.
“I faced him. I do not know how long we fought, but I have never felt both rage and fear in the measure I did against him. Through our battle I gained the upper hand but Seth’s treachery was far from over. He got the better of me, and in doing so took my eye. I regret that he got away with his life, with only my spear through his chest.”
He pauses, turning to look briefly at where Gwen stands.
“Had it not been for Thoth...I do not think I would have made it.” he reaches out again, pressing his palm next to the staff. When the glow is over, a bronze eye rests there, “My eye. Preserved by Thoth.”
Despite her body being frozen in time while experiencing the vision, Gwen still feels as if her breath stops when Horus looks directly at her. That single, sad, burning eye catches hers, and she questions for a moment whether he looked through her... or at her.
Nimue reaches out to the eye on the table, her fingers brushing against it.
"The nature of treachery means that it is often not caught until it is too late. Your uncle has betrayed your trust, and no doubt his betrayal will be exemplary even amongst all the treason yet to come, by uncles or otherwise. Yet you are here now, safe and alive. No less of a god. No less of a man."
She places her hand on Horus'. "You have need of me now, of course, and you shall have my aid. Fae do not deal without recompense, but I can take your word for a future favour. Tell me what you wish me to do."
Horus takes Nimue’s hand with his own, his thumb grazing against her skin with slow, gentle movements. For a moment he is silent, brows furrowed, his mind clearly still lingering on recent events. Another drop of glimmering, glowing blood rolls down his arm as his eye meets hers, a smile upon his lips.
“Your way with words never ceases to catch me off guard.” he chuckles, voice filled with more than just mirth, “You have it upon my honor that whenever you may need said favor, you will have it, without question. Though I am certain you would have little trouble convincing me regardless.”
He picks up the Eye, turning it around, the one still in his head lingering upon it sadly. Then Horus places the Eye at the head of the staff. 
“Seth’s machinations are far from done, of that I am certain. If he is to go after my people again, in any capacity, they will need a champion for when I am unable. What I ask of you, Nimue, is to bind my Eye and this staff, so that their powers combined may bestow upon my mortals a champion. A protector in my stead. The Shemsu Hor.”
Nimue makes a circular motion over her chest, where her heart would be. "Then this I shall do. You shall have your champion to watch over your people, like the moon in the dark night."
She rises up and takes the eye and staff in her hands. "Rest now, brave Horus. It shall take me some time to work my magic. Your people can do without you for one day. Rest, so that you can rise again stronger."
She turns and walks away from the table, through a doorway where the light of flames dances across the walls.
Whatever Horus responds with fades away into a swirl of color and sound, swirling around Gwen faster and faster, a storm of all she’s seen. Then the color and sound fade, leaving her floating around in darkness.
For a moment all is still. 
Then all is blinding.
Light, gold and silver rips through the darkness, lighting the emptiness around her. As soon as it had come, it dims into an endless realm of light, stretching out in all directions, empty forever. One moment warm like the sun, the very next cool like the moon. 
“Gwendolyn du Lac.” her name booms from all sides at once, the voice familiar yet lacking the warmth it had just been full of, “You possess an astounding power. I should have expected as much from one so bound to Nimue, but nonetheless, I stand surprised.”
"Oh shit," Gwen mutters under her breath, and for a moment feels strangely cold inside at the shock. She doesn't know which way to turn. She doesn't know if she can turn. Every direction is the same. The light surrounding her to infinity is uniform. Beyond her and it, there's only the voice.
"Um, greetings! Horus, I presume? My--uh--apologies for intruding."
"You need not apologise, Gwendolyn du Lac. You may have intruded on a private matter, but I believe that was not what you intended. Correct?" the voice still booms from all sides, "Your apology is appreciated nonetheless." 
A shadow falls over Gwen, even with light on all sides, the wings still somehow cast a shadow. Horus appears to step out of the very light itself, no longer the bandaged, injured version she had just seen. He stands tall and proud, imposing as he looms over her. Yet even whole, his form seems to shimmer. For a moment he is whole, then no longer so. Burning eyes, one gold, the other silver once more regard her with indifference. Then it's almost as if Horus smiles - if beaks could smile. 
"What exactly is it that you meant to accomplish by striking the Eye, Gwen?" the question lacks all hint of being optional, "That is what he calls you. I would hope that brings some ease."
Gwen feels small in Horus' presence. A being who could be everywhere around her, who could cast a shadow when everything was light, who apparently had had a close relationship to her ancestor Nimue, is a bit imposing to say the least of her feelings.
"I was... hoping to stop Herald from using its powers. He... he always relies so much on it. I've never seen him fight without it. I've fought a lot with Nimue in my hands, but also a lot without her, especially since she left me. I want Herald to be able to fight on his own too."
She's a bit nervous, but finds the courage to say more once she starts talking. She leaves one thought unsaid: I want him to be prepared to fight alone, before you abandon him too.
The light in the room shimmers and shifts, and it appears as if Horus’ brow just quirked. His burning eyes spark with a hotter fire for a brief moment then the flames settle, the indifference within no longer there. They never once look away from Gwen, studying her, weighing her words.
“The purpose of Herald having the Eye is precisely so he uses it. There is still much he does not understand, much he cannot do. If he is to access the true power he has been chosen for, then he must use it. Hone his control and wield the gifts I wish to bestow upon him.”
Horus pauses, almost as if concerned upon learning that Nimue has left her. 
“I did not know. Her essence lingers upon you still.” this time his voice comes from a single direction, “And you desire to help him hone his body to be capable in battle without the Eye? Hmm. Perhaps it would help him channel its powers better. He possesses a strong spirit and body, but his confidence in either often falters. Aman does not always listen to me. Do you believe you could help him in that regard?”
The figure of Horus lands in front of Gwen, sill towering. His wings spread out, one reflecting the day, the other shimmering with stars at night.
“There are few he trusts as much as you, Gwendolyn du Lac.” Horus confesses, voice solemn “The execution of your intentions may have been ill founded, but considering how the boy thinks of you, tell me this, Gwendolyn du Lac - do you ask of me to withhold the power of the Eye?”
“Yes. What I ask of you, Horus,” Gwen says frankly, “is that you let him fight on his own, so that he learns how to do that. He needs to be able to fight without you, for the times when you won’t be able to help him.”
Horus purses his lips, studying Gwen for a moment, his gaze searching as if for some hint of dishonesty, or an agenda. His soft sigh kicks up a light breeze out of nowhere before he speaks again. “Very well, Gwendolyn du Lac. I know you have his best interests at heart. For this one time, I will relent. Teach him to fight without me, so he is stronger when we fight as one. But remember, I will have my Eye on you.”
The light around them shimmer, softly at first then faster and quicker, like raging flames. Horus’ wings spread wider and with one powerful flap the endless realm around Gwen vanishes.
Aman stumbles backwards, trying to avoid the blow Gwen had clearly aimed for his Eye. Then he blinks, confused for a moment, trying to wonder when he got so far away from Gwen. She was right upon him wasn’t she?
“W-what...what just happened?”
Gwen smirks at Aman. “It’s not about what just happened. It’s about what’s about to happen.”
She takes up a fighting stance again. “Character growth.” She says, and leaps onto her teammate.
Category:Gwendolyn du Lac
Category:Herald
Category:Scenes