Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something was wrong.

She could feel it in the very air itself, the wind whispering to her of darkness and evil abound. But Haruno Sakura was a shinobi through and through. She knew the darkness, the evil and rot of human nature which festered in the very worst examples of the human race. So she pushed the lingering chill upon her spine to one side, focusing instead on what she needed to do.

Fuzziness pounded in her head, body moving almost entirely on the instincts drilled into her through years of hard training, feet pounding against hard earth as she hurried in the direction she could sense the two beacon-like chakra signals radiating from. Gingerly, she rubbed at her heart, part of her crying with hurt at the cruel illusion she had fallen prey to. Though, she mused wryly as branch and leaf passed underfoot, it was hardly like she could beat a rinnegan-induced illusion. Even then she could feel the dregs of Sasuke’s chakra against her own, and she flinched as she remembered that hand through her chest. But Sasuke wasn’t truly that cold. She knew that much from the fond way he had called her ‘annoying’. Her smile softened then, a frown soon washing that ghost of a smile from her as their chakra signals lost their strength.

Her own chakra pulsed in her feet, and Sakura sped up, heart in her throat as worry and fear warred within her – it wasn’t like her own stores of chakra were infinite, and she had spent up a fair bit in the battle. Kakashi wasn’t there either to lend a hand. And he never would be again. Sakura closed her eyes, pushing back her tears at the too sudden loss of someone she had thought of as invincible. She should have noticed the signs of chakra exhaustion. Yet she hadn’t, blind as she had been.

Trees thinned around her, a smile pulling at her lips, sombre and yet hopeful—

Terror.

Her legs froze, body tensing up but a moment before she could leap from the treeline to the water, and she fell soundlessly into the bushes with the aid of some well-timed wind which rustled the leaves of trees and bushes alike. Hairs stood up on end, a wave of—wrong-not-right-oh-god-I’m-going-to-die—sheer, undiluted terror racing through her very veins themselves.

Her chakra sense, she realised belatedly, body shivering as she finally registered the abnormality there. She was a born sensor, naturally more perceptive to the chakras of those around her. She knew the Nine-Tails’ unique chakra thanks to being around Naruto for a long while. She knew of Tailed Beast chakra, and it’s oddities.

The source of her shaking had nothing on them. Inhuman. Monster. Devourer. Chakra and instinct muffled the sounds of her shaking and the sole sob which escaped her at the feeling of that chakra source. Nature around her seemed to reject that very chakra signal – if it could ever be called as such.

Sakura had thought she knew of evil by then. She knew of human evil. The beings before her, spawned from the very shadows themselves or so it seemed, were very much not human.

Move, she hissed in her mind, part of herself berating her body for freezing up – but that did naught to stop the trembles or the feeling of a sword pressed into her neck despite there being nothing and nobody close enough to her. Irrational terror was just that – irrational. Even she wasn’t above it, and she had just so recently punched a goddess in the head.

“Tasty,” the voice, a hissing whisper which made gooseflesh break out on her arms, resonated through the air. “Delicious light. More.”

Her hands moved to her ears, fingers curling in her short pink locks there, wanting nothing more than to block out that rasping hiss. Unnatural, some visceral part of herself whispered then. There was simply some primal part of her which acknowledged should she draw any form of attention, death would await, and there was nothing Sakura feared more than death. It was why she had ultimately decided to become a medic, and it was the reason she was frozen in terror as Naruto and Sasuke’s chakra signals became weaker and weaker.

“More light!”

Her hands shook, hidden in the undergrowth as she was, shame pulsing through her as her tears leaking across the ground. Because the light they were talking about was undeniably chakra. It was the only glowing thing Sakura could think of, and she drew every last drop of her own into a tiny, speck-like ball. Don’t come here, she begged, praying to every god and goddess she could think of to keep those creatures away from her. I’m not here. I don’t exist. Pass me by.

Sakura curled up into a tiny ball herself, green eyes peering out from behind the shrubbery as Naruto and Sasuke’s chakra winked out of existence. Dead, just like Kakashi, and she hadn’t even bothered to try and save them. Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling fresh down her cheeks, vision blurring somewhat even as the creature appeared in view – sending a fresh wave of fear and helpless terror through her.

A spider.

But it was nothing like the little ones she had crushed whenever they ventured into her room. Rather it was far too big to be crushed under a boot, unless that boot belonged to some giant creature the size of a mountain.

Some small, hysterical part of her wondered if it was penance for the many eight-legged arachnids she had killed over the years. Another part of her wondered where and why those spiders had come, and so soon after ruin, war, and disaster.

The larger part of her wanted to be very, very far away, and invisible to those beady black eyes which hungered – for what beyond chakra, she wasn’t entirely sure, but she was certain of one thing at the very least. Nothing good would come of it.

Chapter Text

“’tis not a choice which can be undone.”

Her eyes narrowed, green and hard like chips of gemstones. “I know the choice I make,” she hissed, hands clenching into fists as a gentle breeze blew through her pink locks. She knew what she wanted – vengeance – and she had long since vowed she would achieve it.

“No. You do not,” the voice whispered, so very patronising while she stood there, milky white waters rolling out before her, rippling in the wind as the warm air blew from the north. “But you will soon learn the consequences – though by then it will be far too late to regret your decision here today.”

“Do not patronise me!” her voice was a snarl, words echoing across the surface, one hand coming up, fingers crinkling the fabric of the white dress she wore. “I make this choice of my own free accord. I know what will become of me…”

Across the waters, eight shining white eyes flickered open, regarding her then for but a moment before they closed once more. “I see all, little soon-to-be spider child. Your past, present, and future is all but laid bare before me. Do not let your pride and anger blind you, changeling – for it will be your downfall. Heed the words of the ones who have come before you, else you shall never reach the heights you could so rightly achieve.”

An old terror surfaced in her then, white replaced by black for but a single instant, and she shivered. No. The resounding thought had her spine straightening, her eyes narrowing even further into little slits. She could still feel their loss, even to that day, the shame of her cowardice in the face of death and terror rising back then. Taking strength – the determination to not allow such a thing to happen once more – from that was simple enough.

“You are ready then, child?”

She nodded, jaw set.

“Then step into the Waters of Beginning and be remade, oh changeling,” the voice demanded, and she let out a single shaky breath, toes curling in the bone white sands lingering on the opaque white pool’s borders.

Her eyes opened, one foot lifted and ready to step into the white waters which glowed in the light of the evening sunset. “No turning back now,” she reminded herself, blonde hair, whiskered cheeks, black hair, and spinning red eyes flashing across the backs of her eyelids then, providing her with the will to go plunging into the waters with nary a splash. White was all she could see, her lungs starting to burn all of a sudden with the need for breath. She closed her eyes once again, feeling the waters licking at her skin then, lips parting as she went to—Sakura gasped, shooting up in her bed, heart racing a mile a minute as she pawed at her blissfully clear throat. Memories of choking on those loving white waters twice running through her mind in an instant before she pushed them down and away, focusing instead on what was before her in that very moment.

The soft light of the moon drifted through the parted curtains, bathing her with light, and Sakura pressed her sleepy head into her hands and groaned. “Shit,” she muttered, raking at her scraggly long pink locks, all the while praying none would bother her. Re-doing that illusion of plain hair without the aid of the seals on her mask was a pain, and also wasted precious chakra. Not that she had any other choice in a world of boring colours. She hardly wanted the attention of the locals, least of all because she was meant to be there to heal, and healing wasn’t quite synonymous with being ostracised and feared. In her usual appearance there at least, or so Sakura mused wryly as she sat upon the rickety bed. It was another story entirely when she wore the mask – the sole link she had to her old world.

Sakura wasn’t quite sure how to do that anymore – healing, that was. It wasn’t as simple as merely stitching up the wound and preventing it from festering and rotting, nor could she use her chakra – her light – to heal such an injury. This was no injury to her body, rather it was an injury to her soul and mind. And such wounds were not as easily healed.

So there she was, sent off to some remote world in some remote universe, far away from the battle raging in the heavens above.

“Darling, hurry up, please, I can’t—” the soft, breathy voice sounded, followed by numerous grunts of exertion, and Sakura was abruptly reminded of the brothel situated next to the seedy little inn she had chosen to stop in for the night.

Sakura groaned, a long, drawn-out sound compared to the loud, blissful moans from behind the thin wall separating her room from another of another building. “For fuck’s sake!” she muttered, grabbing a hold of the straw-filled pillow, crushing it atop her head then in an attempt to silence the show being put on next door.

“Does it bother you still, then?” a familiar voice rang out in her ear, and silvery white eyes flickered over to the little shit of a spider who was one of her oldest companions. “The fact that you’re still a virgin after all these years?”

“Shut the fuck up, you little shit, Ecklies,” she hissed, scowling viciously at the little silver-plated white spider – one of the two who pretended to be earrings whenever they were in mortal company. “You have never gotten laid, either,” she muttered hurriedly, whilst the logical part of her brain screamed that she didn’t even want to think upon the various mating habits of spiders either. “Though I do not think Core Spiders are capable of such…”

“Indeed, my breed are born solely of the Great Mother, and as such we do not degrade ourselves to fornicating like you brutes—”

“Who are you calling a brute?” Sakura demanded, lifting a finger to poke at one of her oldest and most loyal companions. Well, aside from the cute little puppy who had followed her around for centuries or so. “Or do you wish to be swatted like a fly?”

Ecklies chittered in offence, and Sakura rolled her eyes as best she could as she continued to block out the sounds of the happy coupling going on next door.

“That’s what I thought,” she muttered, a wry grin curling at her lips as she closed her eyes once more. “Rest now, Ecklies. I have a feeling it will be a rather busy day on the morrow.”

“Do you wish to ‘bet’ on it?”

Sakura snorted, chuckling at one of the few vices her precious little Core Spider – a reminder of her failures in some ways – held. “That, my dear, irritating friend, is nothing but a sucker’s bet,” she said, wondering why blonde hair and the stench of alcohol came to haunt her then. Her heart twinged, nostalgia and longing clawing at the pulpy muscle then. The same sensation the thought of blonde hair, blue eyes, whiskered cheeks, along with black hair, and spinning red eyes with an odd marking set within them brought to her.

Always, she wondered why it was so.

“Memories of your original life, likely,” another voice rang out then, answering her unspoken question the way only a few breeds of spider were capable of, and Sakura felt her eyes open, gaze travelling onto the gold-plated white spider attached to her other ear, dangling from a silvery white thread like Ecklies.

“Hebadron?” she murmured, sleep crusted eyes looking at the little Memory Spider curiously.

“It is rather unusual, at the very least, for a spider child to have even dregs of memories of their life before they were remade… They are meant to fade and vanish after but a century… but then again, I suppose you are so very strange indeed, Lady Sakura.”

Her eyes narrowed, closing slowly then, and she pushed the memories of the darkness closing in, and the sensation of waking up, submerged within those white waters. Strange didn’t truly cover her existence there.

“Sleep,” Hebadron commanded, and Sakura only hummed in acknowledgement, screwing her eyes tightly shut, letting the familiar soothing waves of a true sleep overcome her then. Sleep was, after all, somewhat of a key to the path of healing she was so searching for.

Enedost, Sakura acknowledged, was not as pretty as the cities she had grown used to over the years. It was drab and dreary in contrast to those cities she had long ago protected in the heavens above, but it was all she really had – for there were no other cities as particularly safe for her as that one.

She had made a point to be aware of all that was going on in that world, and she thought herself relatively well-informed to the movements of men and their subsequent enemies at the very least. Elves – the kindred she was likely closest to in body and spirit – were another matter entirely. Sakura much preferred to stay far away from them, if only because she was eager to avoid possible discoveries or disturbances to the life she was so very happy with in that instant. The life where she had shed the noble façade – the countenance which fit her, and yet didn’t seem to suit her so completely for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. Nostalgia really came to bite sometimes.

Lingering in the darker roles humanity had to offer her there made her feel eerily happy in ways she couldn’t quite describe. Nostalgic was the word to describe such odd feelings she felt in those instances, meaning the comfort in that darkness of human nature was probably to do with her old life – before she had become what she had.

“Is it a sad thing?” she wondered aloud then, getting ready to take a shower in the drab little accommodation there. The plumbing and promise of at least lukewarm water had been the deciding factor in her wanting to stay there over other places, and she was about ready – more so after the joys of the night previous – to make full use of the facilities. “To forget?” she murmured, gathering her things, sneakily checking the status of the fire in the boiler room briefly, before she ventured into the communal shower area. They were segregated by gender, thankfully enough, and Sakura had little shyness about her body amongst those who had nothing she hadn’t seen before. There were only three stalls, each with a rudimentary shower head which Sakura was fairly certain were repurposed gardening watering cans.

A snort left her lips, and she set her clothes in one of the small shelves made for such a purpose, hanging her towel up on one of the three wooden pegs set upon the wall closest to the entranceway, before she ventured into one of the little half-partitioned units and unleashed the waters – cool and then blissfully warm – to rain down over her body.

Ecklies and Hebadron hung merrily from her ears still, unbothered by water unlike the more common spiders in those lands. “Do you really need to shower before meeting with the filth you are to conduct business with?” Ecklies asked – ever the more vocal between her two partners.

Sakura only chuckled, letting water hot enough to steam cascade over her head, her hair under an illusion of a duller colouring by then as she scrubbed the filth free from both her hair and the rest of her body with a groan of content. There was nothing quite like the sensation of ridding oneself of the dirt and grime which always seemed to cling to her so – though given she traversed the darkest and dingiest parts of the city, it was something to only be expected.

The brown bar of soap lathered up her skin, and Sakura was about preparing to wash herself off and finish when she sensed it there. A presence. Though it was nobody intending to shower alongside her in that communal area. They wouldn’t have been hiding in the ceiling, behind the tile Sakura had long since clocked as being loose.

A smirk curled at her lips, and she turned the majority of her outward focus back to scrubbing herself clean. It seemed her latest client wasn’t keen on paying up, as some foolish ones weren’t. Either that, or someone had placed a bounty on her head, and some ignorant fool was making a play for it. Possibly both. And the latter, she mused, was the likeliest of them all if past experience had taught her anything. She tilted her head, humming then, waiting for the moment her would-be attempted killer revealed themselves. It was hardly like she wanted to break the ceiling and make a ruckus. Waiting was far simpler, and far easier for one who had lived as long as she, and there were plenty of other advantages she had on the mortal of that world who lingered in the ceiling above. Chakra, her precious light, gave her traction on the slippery floor, an advantage she would make full use of, muscles tensed and readying as she heard the barest sound of movement above. Showtime. “Ah,” she said, joy glinting within her eyes as she clocked the flash of metal, dancing lightly out of the way of the strike which would have otherwise killed her, dropping the bar of soap she had been so very happily using to clean herself. “So my wonderful employer wishes not to pay me,” she mumbled, smiling brightly as she met the dark-eyed gaze of the unfortunate soul sent to kill her. The flinch of the other woman all but confirmed her suspicions. “One would think people of this city would have learnt by now that those who cross me soon become crossed out of existence… but I do suppose idiots sadly exist everywhere…”

Steam curled through the room, providing a small amount of cover, a scant amount of visual obstruction – and would likely have been useful against an untrained opponent, but Sakura, by then, was so very versatile in the art of killing others, both of her own once-species, and those twisted beings who came from the darkest parts of the universe themselves.

So it was safe to say Sakura felt no fear standing before an assassin. Like called to like, a grin splitting her lips as she charged the other woman, determined not to let the blade which glinted with the tell-tale signs of poison anywhere near herself. Healing was rather troublesome, and not something she was particularly good at. Not when she had spent centuries upon centuries on the front lines of the battle, protecting spider-kin. The good ones, at the least. “It’s nothing personal,” the assassin before her said, clearly not realising exactly who had the upper hand there. “If anything, it’s your own folly for not investigating what happens to outside contractors when The Crow is done with them.”

She ducked back, narrowly avoiding the swipe of the blade, chakra sticking her feet to the wet ground – at least until her left foot happened on the bar of soap she had dropped before. “My,” she murmured, kicking the block of slippery soap forwards, a smirk curling at her lips as the other woman lost her footing then – having been in the middle of rushing towards her.

The knife skittered out of the woman’s hand, a muffled yelp escaping the would-be assassin as she collided rather painfully with the floor, and Sakura wasted no time in diving for it. Her fingers closed around the handle, body moving as swiftly as she could, taking full advantage of the opportunity brought to her. Metal sliced through skin and cartilage in a gory mess, blood gurgling up from around the blade buried deep within the woman’s throat.

“It is nothing personal,” Sakura said, a mockery of her words before. “If anything, it would be your own folly for not investigating what happened to ever other fool who has ever tried to cross me before.”

Death rattled in her throat, eyes slowly glazing over in death, and Sakura only sighed as she hurried back to her still blissfully warm shower, rinsing the sticky, hot blood from her skin then. She left both the shower and the dingy little inn then as quickly as she could, not particularly wanting to be outed as a probable assassin, no matter the greater amount of job opportunities it might afford her. There were few, after all, who knew of the true outfit she wore whenever she ventured off to kill someone on contract.

The Crow, a small time criminal syndicate, had gathered her contact details from someone who hadn’t known the full story – an amateur mistake made by those trying to make it big – and hadn’t known of the white and red fox mask she wore. Kitsune. The word came to her unbidden, and Sakura wondered what it was for. Though she doubted it mattered all that much. Rather, what she did to ‘The Crow’ mattered more in that time and place, for what they had attempted and ultimately failed was an issue much more pressing than random words she doubted she would ever remember the meanings for. Her world was dead, and she was no longer a child of it. The moment she had stepped into those white waters was the moment she had cut her connection with her old life, and vowed to serve. But she wasn’t up in the heavens doing her duties. Instead, she was down on that world, and some fool had just tried to have her killed.

Sakura wasn’t one for taking comeuppance from others and actions against herself lying down, no matter all that she had endured once upon a time in the heavens above. Being proactive in regards to her own safety and happiness was something she had decided upon. She was free of those burdens and expectations – the eyes which stared at her in adoration, making her stomach turn for some reason, for they had seen her as a paragon of light and virtue. Part of her wondered what they’d think of her then, hiding in the shadows, doing the dirty work of those who sometimes basked in that light. She couldn’t be their perfect hero, despite the stellar job she had been doing of it. That wasn’t her. Or was it?

Sometimes, Sakura hated having so many ghosts of memories clinging to her. They made it so very hard to know which was the real her – and more importantly, which version of herself she wanted to be. She felt split, torn, indecisive…

“’tis why you need to heal,” Hebadron reminded her, and Sakura hummed under her breath in acknowledgement as she walked through the streets, heading for her favourite, familiar, crusty little pub.

The Dancing Dragon amused her, both with its name – she had seen dragons times before, and they hadn’t been so inclined to dance, prideful and fire-breathing as they were – and the barkeep there. It stood quietly, despite its rowdy name, upon a corner in one of the many streets of Enedost’s dirtiest and seediest district. The sign was painted red and black, swinging to and fro in the gentle wind with the barest of creaks. The cherry-wood door opened soundlessly, but the little bell announced her arrival there.

“Ah,” Aearion greeted, blue eyes lighting with mirth as he took in her cloaked form standing there. “Lothris, my love, how I’ve missed you so!”

Sakura rolled her eyes, swinging herself into the bar seat closest to her beloved barkeep-slash-information broker. “Aearion,” she said, resting her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the side, flipping her hood back, revealing her current illusory disguise. “I cannot say the feeling is reciprocated, least of all because somebody might have allowed for a bounty to be placed upon my head.”

A chair squeaked behind her, and Sakura sighed softly then, the tell-tale grimace on Aearion’s face telling her all which she needed to know. “He would have gone to another broker then, had I refused him,” he admitted, closing his eyes for but a split second. “Besides,” he said, perking up then, “I knew you’d come here alive, and likely go on to take care of that little group of birdies, meaning I’d get to keep the deposit!”

“Money grubbing bastard,” Sakura muttered, the blatant fondness in her tone startling even herself, and Aearion too, if the way his cheeks pinkened and his hand went to scratch at the back of his blonde locks sheepishly were any indication.

“What can I say – you know me so—”

“Why are you getting so chummy with a dead woman walking?” an unfamiliar, masculine voice sounded, and Sakura didn’t even bother to conceal her eyeroll. “If she has a bounty on her head then—”

Sakura spun around, resting her elbows on the back of her chair, head resting in her hands as she sized up the latest challenger. “My, let me guess,” she said, cutting him off, smirking so very sweetly at the way he tensed at being interrupted. “You must be from out of town,” she remarked, knowing she was so very correct. She knew all of the locals from Enedost, just as all the locals of Enedost knew of her and her bloody reputation.

“What of it?” he demanded.

“I would advise, perhaps, following the examples of those who know of me and my reputation better… rather than heading down this path you are so very foolishly going down, for otherwise only one of us shall make it out of this fine establishment alive, and I can tell you for a fact I do not die easily.” Sakura smiled then.

Aearion sighed, wisely moving away as the man’s face reddened, becoming a teakettle of rage just waiting to explode. “Why, Lothris dear, do you have to make a habit of sounding so condescending to others?”

Sakura bit her lip, shuffling awkwardly. The fault of hanging out with centuries old spiders for numerous years, as well as the amount of time she had existed for… Those were probably to blame for her terrible habit of sounding somewhat condescending to those who would barely live a century or two. “This is simply the way I speak,” Sakura said, sighing softly as an axe was pulled from whatever sort of sheath it had been hidden away in.

“You’re dead, little girl,” the man spat, and Sakura sighed yet again, springing up on her chair in an instant, flipping herself back onto the bar counter as the weapon split the chair she had been sitting on but a moment before.

“Has no one before told you it is rather foolish to attempt to kill everyone who irritates you in some fashion?” she asked. “Besides,” she said, dodging another strike, a grin shifting on her lips, belaying her true feelings as she let Aearion’s place become a bit roughed up – recompense for allowing the bounty to be placed through him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with anything worse than a few nicks and scratches on the bar top.

“He certainly has the money for repairs,” Ecklies chimed, and Sakura snorted as she grabbed a hold of the nearest intact barstool. All the other patrons had wisely either left of moved well clear of the action. Truly, it probably said something as to how long she had dwelt and interacted with the folk there.

“Well I suppose that does not particularly matter,” Sakura muttered, going on the offensive then, ducking under another wild swing, whipping the barstool out, grinning all teeth as the wood shattered against his stocky frame, pulling one of her hidden blades as she got close. He smelt even worse than he had first looked, days old sweat clinging to him, and Sakura truly worried over the hygiene regimes of people in that place for but a moment. Eyes widened, but it was far too late for regrets. A line of red welled up on his throat, warm blood spattering across her face as she stood there, blade dripping red.

“Did you have to kill him inside?” Aearion grumbled, peering over the countertop then, lip curling as he caught sight of the growing pool of blood gathering on the grimy flooring.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Did you have to allow a bounty to be placed on my head?” she asked tartly, rolling her eyes yet again as she turned on her heel. “See you around, Aearion,” she muttered.

“Off to pluck the feathers from some foolish little crows then?” Aearion called, tilting his head then, blue eyes gleaming with mirth.

“Darling,” Sakura called, her grin entirely made of teeth as she paused in the doorway. “They will never fly again once I am done with them…”

Chapter Text

A crow cawed beneath the light of the silvery moon, high in the sky above, bathing the ramshackle hall in its glow thanks to its windows which only served to highlight the bloody scene before her. Sakura smiled, a grim, dark thing which sometimes scared her more than she liked to let on. Part of her always wondered what she had been on her world before she had left it, dead and in darkness as it was.

She wasn’t the hero the stars had made her out to be. She didn’t know whether she ought to feel like a fake for acting in such a way for however many years she had. After all, she could hardly remember her life before, despite the tales which had been told to her by the ones who had discovered her. Sakura chewed on her lip, images and words flashing through her mind – scattered and fractured reminiscences she shouldn’t have had. She was a child of the spiders now, and had been ever since she plunged into those white waters and was remade.

Black.

Something which seemed to suck away the light, dangling right before her as she stood there, amidst a ruined, dead world. The only thing alive in a wasteland of blackened trees, sunless skies, and fields of corpses.

A thread.

Made of darkness itself – the only link between that world, the spiders, and wherever they had come from. A string which dangled something before her in that damning emptiness which felt as though it ought to consume her whole.

A choice.

One which would change everything, from her very nature, to her knowledge of everything and beyond. A decision which would subvert her views, make her anew yet not as a child of the spider was meant to be.

Will you climb, oh child of destiny?

Her hands closed around the dark string which had brought hell to her earth. Green eyes narrowed into jade chips, decision set in her mind. She had trained and trained as much as she could, scrounged as many resources as she could from ruined cities. She was ready.

She climbed.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Sakura pushed away the memory of that time – the decision she was fairly sure changed everything. She would be dead if she hadn’t climbed that string, hadn’t made herself known to the children of the spiders. They couldn’t protect every world, after all, and hers was one of the more unfortunate ones. It had been one of many worlds unknown and undiscovered by those who tried to protect the heavens and many other worlds from the encroaching darkness.

The memories of what happened after she had finished that climb, which had taken more than one attempt to reach the very top, were fuzzy. But she had overheard from others, both while she had been in training and a while afterwards. The tales of how she had been discovered had become something of legend over the years – because one did not simply find the children of the spiders. Rather, it was the other way around.

“They say she was covered in spider blood when they found her!”

Sakura closed her eyes, remembering those gazes which had always followed her even before and after she had moved on to the very frontlines of the war. When she had been anointed one of the protectors of Ecklies. Her heart throbbed, and Sakura grasped at her chest then, shivering at the memory of it all. The screams; the clash of steel on steel; the dark blue eyes that had crinkled in laughter as white towers fell, stained with unlight webbing. Her eyes had still been green then.

“Stop thinking of Ecklies,” Ecklies murmured. “It does you no good.”

“Ah, Ecklies is destroyed,” she said, reminding herself of that fact. There was proof enough by that Core Spider dangling from her earlobe. “And yet here I am,” she murmured, rubbing at her chest, right over her heart at the memory of that black spike through her chest. She wondered who the man with black wild hair and strange eyes was when he flittered to the forefront of her mind. “Despite…”

“No. Not yet, little aberration. In fact, I doubt it will ever be your time, oh child of destiny.”

“Well… it doesn’t matter,” Sakura reminded herself, pushing the thoughts to one side. “I just need to heal and forget about it.” Like it was possible to forget the way the city of Ecklies had fallen.

“Lady Sakura!”

The streets had been painted in blood, just like the red trickles which covered the walls and the floors of the little room she was in. “Focus!” she hissed, smacking her head with her hand, as though it would bring clarity to her. She wasn’t in the skies above. She wasn’t in Ecklies, bastion of the White Spider’s Second Regiment.

“Ah, Sakura, huh…? You’ll die here, you know…”

“Then perhaps I will do the universes a favour and bring you along with me for the ride.” Her words were still so very vivid in her memory, even then, and Sakura slapped herself upside the head to push the thought and memories which accompanied those two lines to one side.

“You need to face them at some point,” Hebadron said, and Sakura only sheathed her blade, turning on her heel then, moonlight glinting off the bone white mask she wore. The mirror, one of the few uncracked ones which had served as decorative props – probably for the now-dead idiot leader of The Crow to admire himself in.

“Not today,” Sakura muttered, tearing her eyes away from the spiralling red patterns which decorated the mask she wore. Part of her was almost transfixed, staring at her reflection in that mirror. Her hair was dark, aided by whatever runic power resided within that unbreakable mask. The last remnant of her home world which she had. Rarely had she worn it in the heavens above. Spider children weren’t meant to remember. They were also meant to stay—

She shook her head, Hebadron swinging merrily as she did so, eight legs brushing against her neck as she did so. Memory Spiders were best at healing, particularly that of the mind. Sakura wondered if that was why she had been given one, rather than one more geared for strategy and war.

“All you would need to do is comb through your memories,” Hebadron murmured. “Indeed, you buried deep the memories of just before your—”

“Hebadron!” Ecklies hissed. A warning.

“Just before…” Sakura frowned, a splitting headache coming to rest behind her temples as she thought on that odd blank space in her memories. She attributed it to… to, well, what had come after. It wasn’t like any before had been through what she had.

“Ah, Lady Sakura… that’s what that male called you…” Sakura shivered. “What beautiful green eyes you have… I can’t help but wonder—”

“We had best be on our way, had we not?” Ecklies asked, slicing through the aching memory like a knife through soft butter, and Sakura hummed in agreement. “Though you probably ought to deliver that head to Aearion,” her Core Spider continued, dark amusement lining their voice. “I do love the way he shrieks whenever you present him with a severed head as proof of your kills…”

Sakura chortled, remembering the man’s reactions to such gifts, standing there unmoving as she stared in the mirror still. White eyes stared back at her, glowing with light, like spotlights as such was in their nature – well, unless she pulled that light from her eyes and cast an illusion over them. She couldn’t quite remember the shade they had been before.

“Let us go,” she mumbled.

The Dancing Dragon was alive by that point, merry with the sounds of music and laughter – which was partially why Sakura headed straight for the back entrance. She would most certainly kill any sort of pleasant atmosphere should she walk in there, fox mask on with a bloodied cloth sack in hand. So she knocked on the little door, barely fazed as Aearion yanked the door open in seconds and all but dragged her inside.

“Someone is looking for you,” he said, holding his hand out then, lip curling at the sight of the bloodied sack. “Give me that – before you drip blood all over the floor!”

“I do have a habit of doing just that, do I not?” she asked, smiling then, remembering the blood she had spilled in The Dancing Dragon all too recently.

“You,” Aearion grumbled, grabbing the cloth sack from her hand, “are nothing but trouble.”

“My,” Sakura murmured, allowing herself to be manhandled into the safety of the back room. “Are you that eager to verify—”

“Not on your life,” Aearion muttered, setting the bloodied bag off to one side to be dealt with later. “But anyway, the rates this client is offering are pretty low, considering the target… but if what he says is true, then I’m rather hoping you will take it – otherwise Enedost is fucked six ways from Sunday going by the information I just bought from him.”

“Knows how to do business then, this client?” she asked, smiling merrily at the irked look upon the blonde’s face then.

“Indeed,” he said, voice clipped – no doubt at not being able to wheedle the information out of the man for free. Money-grubbing bastard indeed.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed, and she pulled her mask off then, ensuring her illusions remained in place, stowing the last remnant of her home world away then in the little bag she carried with her. “Will the client be bothered if I turn up before I have showered and changed clothing?” she asked, well aware that there was blood sprayed and staining her shirt, gloves, and trousers.

Aearion tilted his head, a considering look on his face. “Nah.” He waved a hand. “Clocked him as a soldier, that one, and he seems to be ready to draw blood… so there shouldn’t be much of a problem – no one’s gonna faint on you this time.”

“I should hope not,” Sakura said, a smile playing on her lips then as the pieces of the puzzle fell into play. She had indeed kept up on the comings and goings of that world. There wouldn’t be many a soldier was interested in having assassinated. Which left rather few options… Gondor had been overrun by those under Sauron’s sway, and the Witch King of Angmar ruled over the remains of Fornost Erain. At least one descendant of each line of kings had survived, and Sakura had no doubts they were holed up in elvish settlements somewhere. Sakura wondered which was the target, and whom in either city was on the hit list of her client. If a soldier had such a thing. Sakura was far too removed from any form of normalcy of those who lived a century or two by then. “Gondor or Fornost?”

Aearion grinned. “Gondor,” he said, a wicked smile set upon his lips. “Ah, Lothris, my love, I see that mind of yours is as sharp as ever… Do try to come back alive. I have a feeling this place would be rather boring without you.”

“I have accomplished harder feats than breaking into an enemy stronghold to murder their leaders,” she muttered, waving at him over one shoulder as she went over to where her prospective client was waiting. “So,” she drawled, entering the little room, sliding into the seat opposite her prospective client with a wry grin. “I heard that you have been looking for me…”

“Fox?” Grey eyes bore into her, then, green ones. Or so they appeared.

“Indeed, that is me – or rather, the name you currently know me by,” she said, eyes narrowing as she took in the visage of her prospective client. He was relatively dark-haired, with many a steely grey strands threaded through the close-cropped beard he had, and the short locks atop his head. “Though around these parts here, most know me as Lothris,” Sakura said, smiling politely. The way she always smiled at new, prospective customers.

A bag plonked itself down on the table, coins within shaking about, and her prospective client pushed it towards the middle of the table. “I heard you’re the best ‘round here,” he spoke, and Sakura pulled open the bag, revealing a decent sum of gold.

“You have certainly done your digging, good sir,” Sakura replied, smile sickeningly sweet. “For a law-abiding good soldier, that is.”

Grey eyes narrowed then. “Law doesn’t bring the dead back to life.”

Sakura sighed, smile falling from her lips. “Neither does revenge,” she said, sitting back then, relaxing ever so slightly in the shaky faith that the man wouldn’t be off to report the den of thieves and assassins off to the local law enforcement.

“But it’ll certainly make me feel a damned sort better,” he spat.

“Ulrín?”

He blinked then, mouth dropping open at the name of the Usurper King who ruled over Gondor right that very instant. Grey eyes closed. “Indeed,” he said, voice tight. “Did that blondie tell you?”

Sakura snorted. “He dropped a few hints is all,” she said, eyes glinting at the prospect of sneaking into that city – into the palace. It had certainly been a while since she had taken a contract on anyone so high-profile. “There is a reason I am one of the best in the business.”

It was his turn to snort then. “So it would seem.”