Artemis felt the Witch's words drift over her. She was still frozen in her seat, a suffocating weight pressing hard on her chest. But her face was blank. Vacant. Her body was still and relaxed as she drowned. Her eyes drifted from the Witch back down to the red Lantern. Sure enough there was a glowing crimson egg at the heart of it. Some child's nightmare brought to life, the way the Witch told it. Something demonic and powerful enough to rip her from her world and drop her here. And now somehow she was responsible for keeping it locked away?
The Witch finished her tale and beckoned Artemis to the closet of weapons. She looked back down at herself, as though to remember how to move. She placed the tea cup back on the table. Stood in a smooth motion. Stepping forward, she ran her fingertips over the worn metal armor laid out for her. Artemis stopped before the closet. When the Witch asked her about the mask, but Artemis didn't react for a long moment. Like she'd forgotten how to.
"I wouldn't know. Just happened upon it." Her voice was flat and far away.
All sorts of weapons glinted at her in the light. Blades and spikes; blunt wood and wicked metal. Runes were finely etched into each one. Artemis stood there, staring at them all. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Weapons training hadn't exactly been a subject covered in her tutoring sessions and she'd never fought before in her life. Her tongue had always been her best weapon. Artemis examined each one in disinterest, dull eyes barely grazing over one before drifting to the other. Then something caught her eye in the back.
Artemis was still for another moment before a slender hand raised and wandered into the closet. It came back out holding a long wooden staff with metal cuffs clasped around its length at even intervals. She drew her other hand up to grasp it. The staff was weighted differently than what she was used to – a little thicker, a little taller. Artemis looked it up and down and took a few steps back so she was standing in the widest area of space available in the ruined cottage. She glanced around to make sure she was clear.
Then she dropped one hand away and gave an experimental twist with the other. The staff clattered to the floor and Artemis winced at the sound. Alright, so it'd been a while.
Fighting hadn't been in her curriculum, but dancing had. Some nonsense her parents had fed her about how a proper lady was 'cultured.' Honestly, she'd hated those lessons. Her limbs had been skinny and too long, awkward and lanky without the muscles to control them. But things tended to sink in after a decade of practice.
Artemis bent down and picked up the staff from the floor. She straightened up and tried again.
In the Valley there'd only been one style of dance that really mattered – ribbon staff dancing. Dancers would wield a wooden staff, a long swath of died silk attached to either end and spin them to bleed the colors in the silk together. It was mesmerizing, when done properly. Depending on the width of the silk, it could create an image of a solid disk of color or two delicate tails chasing each other. Artemis had never been a true master, but she'd done well enough to not embarrass her family.
The staff in her hand was spinning in smooth, quick motions now. Artemis counted time and switched the staff to her other hand.
No, she couldn't fight. But maybe she could… twirl an attacker into submission? Artemis rolled her eyes. Right. That would work wonderfully. Especially against the giant wolves. At least she didn't feel completely lost holding this though, as opposed to any of the shiny glinting things still in the closet.
Artemis brought the staff around her back before raising it to spin over her head.
And apparently she would need to defend herself. Not just from the odd rabid monster, but from people actively hunting for the Lantern. Like the girl from the river. She hadn't seemed… aggressive. But Artemis of all people knew that someone was rarely who they seemed. But was she seriously supposed to watch over this Lantern now? And if she failed and someone trying to awaken the dragon got the Lantern then apparently it was armageddon. How exactly had this become her responsibility?
She'd had responsibilities before. People had counted on her. People who loved her more than anyone else ever would, and she'd let them down, she'd ran because that's just what she did and even if she'd stayed she'd just disappoint them because Artemis couldn't do the things being asked of her, wasn't made for it and–
All at once the weight on her chest was gone and reality crashed into her with the force of a tidal wave. The staff fell to the floor.
"No, no <I'm not the right person for this, I can't, I–>" Artemis cut herself off realizing she'd slipped into her first language. It was with no small amount of bitterness that she remembered those same words from another lifetime. She sucked in a breath and turned from the closet.
"This is ridiculous. And clearly you're more qualified to watch over the evil magic dragon seal. So you're welcome for the delivery, and thanks very much for the tea. I'll try not to die." Without glancing at the Witch or the Lantern, she started marching towards the door.
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