Chapter Text
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"She wears strength and darkness equally well. The girl had always been half goddess, half hell." - Nikita Gill
"Death is the completion of Life." - Star
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PART 1 - The Perilous Tide
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"How was your trip?" Jack's mother asked.
Jack had just walked in the door after a long, perilous, and world-altering journey with the Xiaolin monks, and her (most likely late) guardian, Lyn, of the Hidden Order of Tao. Apophis's blood-red remains glittered across Earth's skies, warping its magical field, and forming a band of scarlet uncertainty around a brave new world.
And here Jack stood, a new woman, before the lie that she once called her family. She recalled the stolen memories revealed to her during the course of her journey—she remembered her parents' silence as she was delivered, only a young child at the time, into the belly of the Beast. Into the clutches of some unknown entity which stole her power away from her. She saw them now for what they were—her betrayers.
Jack looked from her mother, to her father, and then at the group of sinister looking men behind them.
"Uh..." Jack murmured.
"Did you make any new friends?" Jack's mother set her teacup down and lightly folded her hands upon her lap. A tray of tea and cookies had been set on the table before her. She gestured for Jack to sit and join her parents in the drawing room.
Jack took a nervous step into the room and sat down, slowly, upon an ottoman on the other side of the tea-set. Jack's mother poured her tea and served her cookies.
"I made these fresh just before you came," She smiled and handed them to her child.
Jack looked down at the cookie now in her hands, and then she looked back at her mother. An uneasy feeling formed in her stomach as it twisted itself into a knot. Every sense she had within her slender frame told her to run away—and this confused her greatly. Jack returned the cookie to her china plate, which she delicately balanced upon her lap.
"Mom. Dad. Who are these people?" She looked at the silent group of men, all dressed in dark suits. They had a dangerous air about them, and they did not look like the typical henchmen her parents employed. Intricate designs were stitched into the fabric of their suits, only visible when examined closely. The cut of their clothes and the jewelry they wore bespoke a higher class of criminal than the average crony. Amongst the men were a small number that had suits of a different color than black—a deep purple, which only revealed itself in the light of the fireplace that burned brightly to Jack's right.
"Just some colleagues of ours," Jack's mother replied.
Jack's father looked wordlessly from his wife to his child.
There was a silence, and Jack fidgeted awkwardly with the cookies on her plate.
"You never answered my question. Did you make any new friends?" Jack's mother asked again.
"... No," Jack lied.
Her mother gave a look of sympathy, which Jack had seen many times before, yet now she noticed a new aspect within the familiar expression. Her mother's face was sympathetic, yet her eyes bespoke a certain satisfaction. Relief even.
Jack swallowed hard, and her shoulders began to tighten.
"What a shame." Her mother sighed. "It's alright, Jackie."
"I know," Jack said mechanically. She wondered what had changed, and why her stomach felt so twisted and wrong. She had never felt this sensation before when speaking to her mother. Jack's jaw tightened, as did the grip she held on the china in her lap.
"You're not eating your cookies," Her mother stated.
Jack offered a smile and took a small bite of her cookie. She returned it to her plate. There was another long silence, filled only with the crackle of the fire and the hard stares of the men in the suits.
Jack's father stared at the silver tea-set with a bored and preoccupied expression.
Jack also looked at the tea-set and noticed something she had never noticed before. Etched upon the teapot's handle was a strange chimera-like creature, bearing feathers and scales. Her throat dried up as she recognized it. It was the same creature upon the foyer in which she and her parents had stood all those years ago. Just before Jack was taken away by the women in blue and red. Taken into the belly of that terrible chamber where she had the magic ripped from her soul.
Jack took another nervous bite of her cookie, clenching her jaw and drawing her lips tight to mask the look of recognition she might have let slip otherwise.
"I've not seen that outfit before." Her mother said, making light conversation. She appeared to repress a look of disdain, masking it with a condescending smile—another expression with which Jack was familiar. "Another one of your goth fashions?" her mother mused flatly.
Jack glanced down at her torn fishnet stockings and rough-cut mini shorts. She said nothing, however her hand holding her china plate had begun to tremble. She took another bite of cookie in an attempt to mask the tremor in her fingers, and her face grew suddenly hot as she remembered the dark eyeshadow and lipstick she was wearing.
"You should drink your tea before it gets cold, Jack," Her mother stated.
Jack immediately and automatically complied. The tea was bitter and strong. English. Her mother always had a fondness for European sensibilities, even though she had been born and raised in Hong Kong.
"We just picked that tea up in London. Isn't it lovely?" Jack's mother took a sip of her own tea, enjoying its complex character.
Jack had never really been one for tea. She liked it well enough but preferred coffee. Jack offered a small smile and took another sip.
At last, Jack set down her cup with a tiny 'clink'.
"May I go to my room? I'm tired." she asked.
"Don't be rude, Jack." Her father replied mechanically. He kept his hands folded, thoughtful, and did not lift his gaze from the silver teapot. "We have guests."
Jack gave an incredulous look toward the men in suits. They all remained standing, with their hands folded and their faces like stone. She frowned.
"Yeah... Who are these people, really?" Jack finally demanded.
"Our guests," Her mother replied with a sharp edge, indicating for Jack to measure her tone.
Jack pursed her lips and forced a smile. "Who are our guests, precisely?" She stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth, chewing loudly and irreverently while staring hard at the strange men.
"They represent some very important friends of ours. They've come to see you specifically." Jack's mother said quietly. The well-rehearsed smile had faded from her face.
Jack stopped chewing and raised an eyebrow in a question. With a bit of pain she forced herself to swallow before the cookie was ready for swallowing. She coughed and managed to ask with a crack in her voice, "Why?"
Her throat was dry and the cookie caught within it. She drained the rest of her tea to chase it down. Clearing her throat she asked again with a petulant edge, "What do they want from me?"
"Tone, Jack," Her father commented dryly.
Jack sighed and offered an expectant expression, waiting for her parents to answer. The feeling of uneasiness in her stomach had turned to nausea. She bit her lip and looked down at the saucer upon her lap.
"They simply want to check up on you. See how you are doing. They are very old friends of ours, and they have taken an interest..." Jack's mother's voice began to fade.
Jack stared hard at the remaining cookies on her plate. She felt sick.
"Mom..." she muttered.
She was feeling dizzy, and she could hear her mother's voice, replying, yet she could not make out the meaning of her words. The room began to tilt and spin.
Jack leaned forward and the saucer fell from her lap. The world turned over on its side as she slid from her seat and onto the floor. She blankly observed the bits of china that rattled across the ornate carpet as her cup shattered. The fire's light shimmered across the surface of the broken shards. And then she slipped into unconsciousness.