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If the priestess dreamed anymore, all remnants usually faded in waking. The last concise dream the mare remembered was the chaotic world of Wonderland, and every awful, wonderful, horrible vision that had been thrust upon her. That dream had ended, life had gone on(or had it? The events were a little muddied). Not any easier, not really, but a routine had been built, and followed. Now she found herself once again in a dream, and was not entirely sure where that knowledge came from.

Perhaps it the table resting before her, with it's pair of items.

Or perhaps, and far more likely, it was the tall figure standing beside her. Nergui had not seen Soren since the battle with the White Queen. She had not spoken with him since their accidental nuptials in the cracked teapot. Now there he was, beside her, invaded, or invited into her dreams.

She didn't look up to see his face, because she wasn't at all certain what she would find there. If he was watching her it would give hope where likely there was none. If he wasn't, it would just hurt all the worst. No, she kept her head down, mismatched eyes focused on the items on the table. One red, one black. One heart, one hourglass.

Whispering voices were commonplace for the Insanity touched priestess, but this one was different. This one held a patient command, where the incessant murmur that plagued her mind lacked anything even close to patience. They begged, they coaxed, they hissed, but they were never patient. Drawing a breath, her hand lifted from her side and reached out, hovering over the hourglass, death, but it was the other those dark fingers wrapped around. The heart, destruction. Ironic, accurate.

The darkness around them shattered and in it's place was a world of red. In front of them a red sea of bodies, of nonsensical human carcasses devoid of Fear. It smelled only of rot and decay.

Slosh. A small Famine clan soldier appeared, a young one, decorated only in a single layer of red cloth. She kneeled right in the waters. "Thank you." She remained kneeling. "We are grateful for your servitude and we will not forget your choice. You have chosen destruction and there is only one task remaining for you. To destroy the beast. Once you accomplish this our power, our blessings, will be yours. However, if you fail, our vengeance will also be absolute. If you wish to become something greater, step forward, choose your weapon, or fall eternally as nothing."

In front of them were three weapons: a sword, a bow, and a spear.

Having his entire world go red was nothing expected, but the sight in front of him was one Soren could appreciate. The only real downside was that he felt no Fear, that and the stench. He preferred the smell of fresh blood, preferably caused by his own hands, but he could deal with this. He stood firm as the mare used him to steady herself, glancing down to make sure nothing was wrong, and it was her gaze he followed.

He stayed back as the filly knelt, eyes matching the world around him watching her, listening carefully to what she had to say. Destruction. The ultimate result of which would be Death. Hopefully of the beast she had mentioned. The offering of weapons was enough for him, but still he held back, allowing for the priestess to have her choice first. He had an obvious preference, but he could make the spear work if necessary. In the past he had dealt with longer scythes, and while the spear was pointed rather than having a sickle the range would be familiar.

In the end there was no decision to be made. She took up the bow, and he took the sword almost immediately.

When he looked back to the priestess she turned her attention to him, and he met her gaze before tilting his head to her in deference. If the priestess would lead, he would follow. As the scars marking his face attested to, he was no stranger to beasts. Or the destruction of them.

There was a certain apprehension about the mare as the ground began to shake and a flood of bodies marched towards them, and mismatched eyes widened as she retreated a step from the kneeling filly, hand tightening on Soren's wrist almost painfully before dropping away as she lifted the bow. Arrow nocked, she she drew back on the string as the army fell into neat lines, and had her nerve been anymore fragile she might have loosed the shot before making sense of what she was seeing.

Horsemen, all in red, but dressed for their clans. War, Famine, Conquest, and most familiar of all, Death. The bow lowered, tension easing until the she could safely release her grip on string and arrow. She recognized no faces among them, but she recognized them. Allies, comrades in arms.

As the filly spoke the priestess released the breath she'd been holding, and that air shook as it eased past parted lips. The mare was on edge, a new constant for Nergui, though as it always had before, the guardian's mere presence was enough to dampen the erratic murmurings in he head to dull static, like white noise.

In this world of red death there was no refusing the task presented to them. Even if she had wanted to, somehow she knew it would have been impossible. So she would nod, those thin shoulders straightening as she regained that small retreated step that placed her firmly at Soren's side, instead of in the wake of his shadow, and she remained there as they made the journey to the cave. Walking in silence until they came to the foot of the white mountain.

That, in and of itself, was important. The lack of color in this so red world. She stared up at it before heterochromic eyes rolled down to the dark opening of the cave. Speak the filly had said. Speak and bring the beast out to meet the army. It sounded so simple, but she knew better.

With a sudden and hallow upturn of lips, the mare recalled something she'd heard, or read, in the past. Some passage of scripture the human's clung to in times not unlike these. "Yea," she murmured, humorless and light. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil." Her chin rose, head held high as she walked forward towards that dark mouth. "For thou art with me." Her guardian. She had no other, would take no other. "Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

Come what may. Death, or destruction; she had nothing left to lose.

The sound of shattering crystal was loud, and the priestess slowed in her forward progression, turned to look over her shoulder at the guardian. His hand, sword grasped in thick fingers, had smashed through the glittering wall like glass. It left dark features puzzled, concern drawing silver brows down low. She had not seen what he had seen, only the sparkling rain of crystal dust falling at his boots. A questioning look lingered even as she glanced the way they were headed, looking for any signs of movement, any dangers that might soundlessly creep upon them.

Instead those mismatched eyes locked onto her own reflection in one of the many crystals that surrounded them. For the space of a heartbeat that was all she saw, and then that dark figure grew taller, paler. Bright blue eyes and white blonde hair. As light as Nergui was dark, Anya was the opposite of her younger sister, and just that moment those icy eyes were burning in jealous rage.

She was screaming, and Nergui's breath caught in her throat as she fell into that memory.

Dark hands had been holding a music box, were now, and Anya ripped that gift from her hands, smashing it on the ground between their feet as she shrieked, severing that sisterly bond. Falling into the hate that had eventually consumed her.

It was not a typical defeat, but in that moment that is what the priestess had felt as that tall, beautiful woman had stormed away, out of her life for good.

"No." Her voice was hallow as she lifted the bow and drew back on the nocked arrow. She would no relieve the worst moments of her life. She would not. The string gave a load twang, the arrow hit the crystal, and the image shattered.

It would not take long for the mare to realize that every pain of glass like crystal they faced, they were met with a memory, or a vision. It set Nergui on edge, and her bow remained up as she watched that smile creep along the guardian's lips. Whatever he saw was pleasant, and she found herself wondering what he was seeing to place such a peaceful, happy look upon his face. Did it involve her? Or was it Astrid? Or maybe neither. Maybe it as simply death and destruction.

If she were not so unsure of his answer she would have asked, but there was no answer that would not hurt.

Her gaze turned back to the path ahead, and tough she tried to keep her gaze down, reflected movement had her lifting her head, and once again she was faced with herself.

This time the scene was peaceful. A fire roared in the heath. The hut was warm, the furs under her legs soft as the smile on her face as she looked over each and every carved figure in the handmade chess set. Soren's arrival, the beginning of a quiet game, and the voicing of a question that ruined everything.

Nergui lashed out before she had to watch herself crumple to the ground and weep. She remembered how her heart had shattered, and not even the breaking crystal could compare. This time she cried out at the bow destroyed the memory, and her weapon fell, momentarily forgotten, and she huddled over, hid her face behind the press of small palms, and tangled fingers tightly in silver hair.

She didn't want to see it again. She didn't want to relive it.

She flinched at his touch. It was unexpected, but more than that, even an innocent brush of fingers against her skin seemed ache down to her core. It ached now, more for the memory she'd just seen, and she had to swallow a sob, for fear he would hear how broken she was. For fear that if she let the sound escape, she would never stop again.

That deep rumble of a voice was a soft murmur of rationality, but she knew it had been a memory. A jagged, sharp edges memory that struck to the bone.

Her hands pressed harder, pulse thudding, breath high pitched and too fast. The white noise static in her mind rushed forward, lunging for the cracks the memory had caused, and the mare whimpered as those voices roared up in incoherence. For a second she was deaf to the world, to the sound of the breaking crystal, and only when the guardian speak again did sound rush back in and chase the murmurs back.

What is your mission?

Breath held, she slowly untangled slim fingers from her own hair, hands falling to rest in her lap as she straightened up. For a moment she was all wide eyes and the shadow of despair dimming silver and gold eyes, then those delicate features smoothed. When her breathing was in control, when her pulse had slowed again, she looked up at Soren as he knelt beside her. "Find the beast." The bow was retrieved, and the mare rose up on her feet. "Lead it out to it's destruction."

Her reflection stared back at her, and this time it did not waver and fade into memory of vision. This time it simply shattered and there was no more path. No more crystals. There was only darkness.

She reached out again, groping in that darkness for the guardian's hand.