His eyes narrowed, trying to pick apart fact from fiction, only to realize that it all was indeed fact. This wasn't the only Mary. But there was something amiss. Something additional. She was... seasoned – stronger. He couldn't shake the sensation of the identical power. A sword. Her sword. And then he recalled the concept of time within the warp. Past, Present and Future collided and shattered, reforming and rebirthing, while maintaining a vibrant contiuum of ever fluxing infinity. If he could accomplish all he had, attain such powers as he now possessed, then why couldn't the very Elemental to whom the power of the warp was affiliated? This Mary before him, somehow, was from the future - no other explanation. And the Mary of the present was simultaneously here somewhere. Clearly safe, considering the circumstances of the Mary before him. He recalled the ship. The Ship! She was still on the ship!
Images flashed to another place amid the memories where Cameron was engaged with an unknown enemy – or perhaps not so unknown under these circumstances, being seen as recollections by Mary herself. And thus did he see a third Mary. A third. Not like his 'echoes' that ruled the Imperium Sanctus in his stead. No, these were, by his own estimates, alternate versions of the same woman. They were, in fact, the same woman – of differing timelines? Indeed, too much has happened to the both of them during their time apart. But he held the softer memory the closest.
He allowed himself a mental sigh, what with all of the complexities these matters entailed, and admitted to himself, ...I hate time travel
Then came the image of Mary in more placid times. Perhaps a future? Or maybe even a wish? With so much to organize into a single, cohesive vision, he could not tell if it was a portent or a desire that he saw. But in the case between he and she, he had preferred for both. His soul reached out for this vision, as if it were his own, and then something suddenly snapped him from his trance, bringing him back to the present as if he'd never lost a beat of time.
The sudden influx of outside energies spiked his senses. It took only a blink to link the origins together: all three sources connected somehow but uniquely separate from each other. Spirits? Entities? Sentience? Weapons. Weapons! The swords! He recalled all he'd learned about the swords and their unique nature. Not unlike Danyael's link with the Wellspring, the best way he could describe them in his own, guestimating definition is that they acted as a hive mind of sorts. Their connection with each other allowed them a means of communication and, ultimately, superior tactics. But while there were three here, there were six elementals. Well, technically seven, but that number was, currently, a moot point. Though it didn't appear as such on the surface, his senses went into overdrive, through the very vibrations of this new realm they were on, synching his power with the very auras of the swords, much like a hound would seek out their quarry. No easy task. But he received only confusion... at first... then something else. Was it them? He couldn't be sure. Not yet. But he knew there was something else, now. Several somethings.
He then heard Garr's sudden realization that they were all, in fact, in the same place as them – though separated by what might have been great distances, confirming Danyael's theory. He could not feel the presences of the other swords with the same accuracy as the elementals. But he felt... something.
He locked eyes with her one more time, allowing her to look into the beautiful, yet chilling, mutations they had become. And then, finally, he lifted his hood over his head, veiling the upper half of his face in dimness, allowing for for his platinum, cruciform pupils to glow eerily in the shadow. Taking advantage of the gift of the swords, he softly poured a breeze of images and emotions, all softly dancing about the ether, collecting into a single message, better yet a statement. I failed you. Never again. How could he have been so selfish as to leave the woman of his life behind out of jealousy? True, his actions led to him aging into the power he had now. But it came at too high a cost. Perhaps Mary will allow him a chance at redeeming himself. Perhaps she'll accept him again.
Upon hearing Jharm's intercession, he too was curious as to what this place was? And why did it have such an effect on him as it did. Perhaps Mary felt it, too. Why wouldn't she? Neither she nor he could deny that feelings aside, their similar powers allowed them an exclusive closeness with one another. But what mattered more to him was that she was here now, in some way of saying so. And he would see to it that he wouldn't lose her again. He knew she knew this. And perhaps the feeling was reciprocal.
He was about to ask with his real voice, but was cut short when Jharm addressed Mary. His lips closed softly, tightening for an instant before straightening out. Manners bade him to use his voice more now, in spite of his preference to reserve himself to silence and listening. “Agreed, m'lord.” he nodded to Jharm, then turned to the elementals, now all business. “First step would be to seek an exit, yes?”
