Carolina, despite your wishes, you find yourself alone in the maze. The still air does not carry voices towards you. The tracks of the horses and the chariot in the ground seem to be vanishing before your very eyes, as the infernal earth attempts to isolate you even further from the others. If being alone in this bizarre corner of Limbo was not terrifying enough, you do not notice the assailant creeping up on you from behind. A vine snakes its way around your throat, others ensnaring your hands and feet - and you are suddenly being pulled back into the hedge. The hedge is alive. It has a giant mouth and gnashing teeth. And it is going to eat you alive if you cannot find a way to save yourself.
Come to me a voice whispers in your mind, one that is so intimately familiar to you, but yet you cannot place...
* * *
I am grateful that you found the child, Max. Protect her. This realm is no place for one so small. I wish I had told you more about Limbo and its demons, but they were not my horrors to share. The chariot has come to a halt, but you both have been long since separated from Carolina. The tracks left by the carriage have vanished, as if they had never been there. The horses, charmed by Klara, observe the two of you with curiosity now, instead of fear.
My name is Butter Rum one of the skeleton horses said. Its voice is strange - like nails on a chalkboard - but somehow intelligible.
And I am Mercymorn the other skeleton horse said.
Who are you, Pink Two-Legs? Butter Rum asked.
Is the other Two-Legs with you? I can eat him Mercymorn offered.
* * *
Ananym, the daughter of Belasco as Jack identified, takes the form of a young child. She has the classic demonic features - forked tongue, spaded tail, wings, yellow eyes, talons, and fangs. Her gift is her voice. Do not say I did not warn you.
"Jackass!!" Ananym gasped as she saw Jack. A happy smile plastered itself on her face. She was still missing her right fang. The tooth had yet to grow in. Her yellow eyes seemed somewhat disappointed though. She had no recognition towards you two, Madalyne and Annika.
The other demons, who had been circling young Ananym with blades, hissed. "Sorcerers Supreme!" they spat like a curse. One - an ugly brute named Kog'thakan who had pink flesh and a face somewhat between a rhino and a snake - tackled you, Jack. You both then began to spiral out of the sky, as Kog'thakan attempted to stab you with his blade.
Another - Zorzazos - attacked you, Annika. He had the face of a violin and the body of a tank, and arms that looked like tigers. He jumped at you. But Zorzazos was not nimble - nor was he smart. He missed you. The fall will most likely kill him.
The head of this group of demons, a green figured one with more traditional demonic features with the exception of its mouth, which was a kazoo, tooted at you, Madalyne, in a demonic tongue. You instinctively understood his words.
"Join us, sister - the hour of our rise is now! Take your true form and pledge yourself in the boss' name!"* * *
You could all do to be less trusting. I wish I had taken that advice. Perhaps I would still be alive.
The mausoleum is grim and cold, as to be expected. Rust coats the iron archways and dust coats every possible surface. A dead dove lies on the entranceway. There are no names on the walls to identify who was laid to rest here - just more symbols, more cherubs. But the mausoleum is not empty. You are not alone here. There is a presence that even I find myself enthralled to. It is a shadow on the wall. It carries a long scythe, not unlike the one wielded by an old friend of mine.
The shadow watches you. Do you watch it?
In the middle of the mausoleum, there is an altar. On this altar is a cup, with blood dried on the rim. Next to it is a long, curved knife. The blade is clean. A strange language is carved into the altar on which it rests, one that you somehow understand. It reads:
TO THAT WHICH YOU SEEK
I OPEN THE WAY
Runa the Grey
Location: Limbo
Skills: Intuition
Spells: N/A
Runa considered Edus' words deeply. There was clearly an element of time at play here. To them, the difference between the year 2021 and 2025 was a little thing - Midgardian years past by so quickly they hardly mattered. But when the Sorcerer Supreme was of Midgard and they found themselves, more than one, inheriting that office... such a small detail had to matter. Stephen Strange had been many things, but sloppy was not one of them. This was no mystical typo.
They did not offer up the designation of their world. That information she decided to keep to herself. If Edus asked explicitly, they would tell him their tale. If not, then it would remain a secret. She cared too much for the continuation of a singular series of events to risk events unfolding as they ought not. Edus would ask if he should ask, and not because of her prompting, they determined.
"I have lived long, but even I have not seen sorcerers supreme. The Vishanti would not allow such a thing... Strange this is, and so he is at the heart of it all. We must find his body. Perhaps then, we might understand." A cemetery seemed as good a place as any to begin a search - and Runa was pleased to hear the voice of Prudence once more, even as she was somewhat chaffing against Edus' auditory descriptions. Runa did not know what realm they were located in, beyond one marked by devils, yet an idea had begun to take form within their mind. The nature of their inheritance of the mantle limited them to a few options, but even Runa the Grey did not know every realm on Yggdrasill's branches.
She walked with Edus, one arm on him and the other clutching her staff. It amused them slightly that he had not yet noticed it - or perhaps he was too polite to remark on such a thing. She was not ashamed of the staff however. She did not regret its creation.
They made it to the mausoleum. Runa felt the sudden chill, the cold. And while they could not see, they
saw. They saw the shadow with the scythe on the wall. Their body tensed. This was a test. She felt the eyes of fate and destiny upon them. But they felt they could not warn Edus and Prudence. Those two must choose their own path. Instead, Runa posed a question.
"I know much of Edus' training, but little of yours, Prudence child. I will tell you mine, if you would tell me yours. I am a witch of the old religion - the religion of what you would deem vikings. I shape the flames of life."