Chapter 118: Nimue’s Origin (2)

[ Viviane's Domain ]

Daylight had broken, shining through the ash and dying smoke that filled the air of the village that had been raided. With it, not a single life could be heard except one, which shuffled against the grass with a groan.

As blood and burnt flesh wafted through Nimue, she snap-opened her eyes in a single breath, providing a view to her future watchers that only confirms the chaos that eroded her village.

Dead bodies lay everywhere: strangers, friends, and enemies alike.

The mysterious crow woman? Gone. In her place, only her brown robes were left to signify her effect.

But more importantly, what of her family?

Nimue sharply inhaled with that in mind, pushing off the ground quickly and skipping over any bodies she could as she stumbled her way into the ruins of the home before her. Blackened stones outlined the perimeter, while broken wooden pieces of furniture and roofing filled the inside.

Yet, even among the rubble and smoke, she could easily see her father, Dervacus, lying in the center of it all.

Charred.

"A-ah... ah...!"

It took several moments for the girl and her stunned whimpers to subside before the reality of her father's death burned into her eyes. She shook, her face twisting slowly in denial, yet it was plain to see the what the raiders had done.

The well broke.

Tears flooded down as she finally screamed into the smoky air, crawling desperately toward her only family.

Watching this scene of Nimue's hands clinging to the crisped man, Viviane thins uncomfortably before looking away.

"I'm sorry."

The current Nimue only shuts her eyes. With it, her past cries fade, reclaiming the lake to a uneasy calm.

Several seconds of silence pass before the enchantress breathes out.

"Even though I feel the same, time does make it seem like I'm looking at a different person," she says, then reopens her gaze softly. "But, as you heard, my father was a Druid named Dervacus. At first, I thought it might've been the Christians who directed the raiders to our village to kill him, but only later did I learn that they were paid by the cult of Isis. My father was once a high priest people looked up to within the Druid community, but I had no idea how renowned he was until after his death. Even with Christianity spreading fast, the followers saw it as easier to eliminate someone like my father with opposing values compared to Christians."

"Values?" Viviane questions.

Nimue hums. "Both Christianity and those who worship Isis believe in a higher plane, even if they disagree about how it looks and who is responsible. Compared to them, Druids believe everyone will reincarnate back into the same world. Such a notion is an affront to the promises from their goddess, so they would be buried sooner than other beliefs."

Although it would've been seen as extreme in the present day, it matches up with the history of the low tolerance between competing faiths. Right now, Viviane's own view matches those of modern people thanks to Amy, but she wonders how she would feel about it back then.

"And your predecessor?" she follows, shelving such matters of beliefs for later. "It didn't look like you changed."

Nimue snorts. "It's pretty obvious with the tears, huh? Well, that's because I was still human... or at least, partially."

Everyone else raises their brows, but Viviane quickly flickers in recognition. "She joined you! But then, how did you remain yourself?"

The only case they had seen of a slime and human remaining the same is when a clone is split from a remnant, as it had been done between Mary and Viviane; the former being accidental under alcohol while the latter intentional after death.

Had this predecessor done the same?

"Indeed, we had become one," Nimue answers. "However, the changes weren't immediately obvious for several years because my predecessor had changed her origin for mine."

The group holds themselves, finding the lady's explanation a little different from the cases they know.

Viviane furrows. "You said that before, but what does that mean?"

Expecting such confusion, the enchantress smiles bitterly, dragging her gaze back to her body of water. "I've told you that our lakes are supposed to dry up, and so do the memories that are associated with them. Well, it turns out we are not bound to the water itself, but the location."

Pausing to let this notion seep through, she switches back to Viviane, staring into her silver eyes before continuing. "What my predecessor did was refill her diminishing lake with me instead of forming a new one."

The silver lake dweller stiffens before she and the others lock to the enchantress' waters again.

"We... we can choose where the memories we gain go?"

Viviane knows how to prevent some memories from being transferred to others. It's how she filtered Amy's memories of Daniel's father, but this flexibility isn't something she can explain other than being aware of the memories when synchronizing. She's not even sure when or where she learned this control as it came to her intuitively.

Perhaps being able to entirely direct the flow of memories rather than filter them is the next step.

"You have to be aware of your domain, and that might be harder to do when everything is covered in fog," Nimue notes.

It frustratingly itches the existing question on the purpose of the fog. Viviane can connect with new people, but whatever happened to her after Merlin's sealing makes it difficult for her to connect with the past.

She shakes her head, not wanting to get sidetracked. "How do you know she didn't give you a piece of herself like you did for me?"

Having held similar doubts about the changes, Nimue motions to the lake. A new image forms, and with it, the screams of the village raid return to fill the fog. This time, instead of showing it from Nimue's perspective, it showed a different hand, molding a crow out from within. As the bird flew out to aid in its peers' slaughter, the new view turned to Nimue's unconscious body.

It cuts out with a sudden hiss. While the observers flinch at the noise, they watch steam rise and the image warp with bubbles before fading away.

"This is part of the reason. On top of having never seen nor heard from my predecessor again, this is the only memory I have left of her. As you see, it's part of me, yet it behaves unsteadily unlike any other memory," Nimue explains, not waiting for her guests' surprise to clear. "When I woke, I didn't even have access to this or any sense that I became a remnant. It's only after learning of my changes through sleep that I attempted to piece together what was left. Later, when I experimented and found I could direct the flow of memories, that's when I realized she had to have given herself entirely to me. If my predecessor's time was really limited and her lake was low as I've seen with others, any knowledge and memories held would've been diluted to almost nothing when refilled, making it difficult to piece any memory together."

After a pause, she shuts her eyes. "I really wished I had obtained some meaningful knowledge from her, or even better, a name, but she essentially drowned herself with me, leaving me with nothing but her debt. Obviously, I had no choice in the matter."

Mary swallows, having recovered her stomach from the massacre she watched again, but this idea of committing identity suicide doesn't settle well either. She takes a slow breath of the misty air. "So, uh, any guesses as to why she would do that?"

Nimue glances at the dark artist. "Our sense of self will always be tied to one lake where our tendencies are derived, but when that lake dries up, we have no control of which lake we might extend to next. That chance could result in becoming something more... detrimental."

Viviane holds herself for a moment, recognizing the issue. "So rather than risk that chance, your predecessor decided to replace her lake with you — the daughter of someone she trusted."

"That is what I believe," Nimue confirms. "Still, I feel it was foolish to choose me when she only knew my father. After his death, I wanted nothing more than revenge against the cultists everywhere on Brittania."

Yet, she sighs, continuing more softly. "However, I eventually recognized the bigger problem of my existence and the ones who came before."

"Which is?" Viviane presses.

"That we are figures that can be misrepresented, spread, and worshiped."

Silence draws between them before Daniel fills it, understanding her meaning.

"Is that how Isis spread?" he suggests.

The enchantress smiles weakly. "So, you're aware. I don't know when or where we truly originated, but Isis provides the earliest written evidence of the flames we carry and spread to others. She is either the same as us...or more. Regardless, we called ourselves remnants from her given the possibility that she started it all. From that point on, various incarnations accumulated followers by the trails and connections left behind."

"Wouldn't that mean our predecessors were to blame for creating the cult that killed your father?" Viviane raises.

"Yes, funny, isn't it?" Nimue's eyes twinkle sadly. "We're fated to eventually lose ourselves and change, and yet, these groups persist beyond each incarnation like a leech. Unfortunately, it goes beyond them. Druids may have also been a product of remnants, especially considering my predecessor knew my father. Although I do not know how she was related, I suspect I was only her child as a following."

"Wow..." Mary breathes, her mind reeling as she begins doubting anything about the history she was taught. "Doesn't this mean any religion could have been influenced by past remnants?"

"It's possible, but I don't know where exact influences lie or how far back it goes. It was only when I met Merlin that I took more time to understand how our nature evolved through others." Nimue lowers her gaze. "Sadly, I have no memories to draw from any of my predecessors to their impact. Had I known better, I would've at least absorbed my father to see what he knew of the woman who changed me, but, well... I wasn't aware nor in the right mind for some time after his death. What became clear over time, though, was that not all the lakes accumulated or assumed were of good people."

Mary snorts, crossing her arms. "I'd say that's pretty obvious by the shadows we saw."

Such debt that carries through each generation only weighs Viviane down more when it comes to the future. She curls her lips, uncertain. "Nimue, I understand why you showed us how you became a remnant, but how would this prevent Merlin's prediction about you?"

The enchantress is saddened, hearing her name addressed instead of being called 'Mother' like she was used to. Still, she masks herself with only a weak smile.

"I'm not saying filling a lake with another prevents anything. Keep in mind, I'm only what's been copied from our last joining, so I have no idea what really happened to me or you beyond that point. Even so, I'm certain that if I were to change for the worse as he predicted, I would've abandoned myself to prevent becoming anything problematic, just as my predecessor did."

"Who would you have chosen?"

"Either you or Merlin, but considering I had already turned you into a separate remnant, I would've replaced myself with Merlin, as he understood how important our influence had to be kept from the world."

Nimue tilts to the side and narrows her eyes. "He only confessed of his visions after I had turned you. With your experience being sealed, I wonder if that was within his predictions too."

"I know from memory that Merlin was the one who brought me to you when I was dying, right?"

"Yes..." Nimue sighs. "All of this is just speculation. I can't trust the flames, and by extension, I can't trust the visions he was seared with. Rather than go on my outdated knowledge, you need to find out what actually happened, beyond the prediction of a madman."

Mary raises an eyebrow. "You would call him mad?"

"Because he is! It's mad that he would trust these predictions that burned him more than me!" Nimue huffs, surprising her guests. The upset doesn't last long on her face before being replaced by guilt. "It's all my fault, really. I should've never taken him in when he was a child, but at the same time, I..."

Eyes soft, Daniel steps in after it becomes clear the lady can't finish laying out her feelings, obviously betrayed by the man she loved.

"I know this is hard, but it would help to know the man from you," he requests.

Nimue shuts her eyes for a long moment before opening them. "I could show you more, but knowing how these domains work, you all are sleeping, correct?"

Daniel and Mary nod.

The enchantress snorts, smiling weakly. "Then, it's unclear how much time you all have left here before you wake up."

She takes a moment to glance at the book in Daniel's hand. "Tell me, did you intentionally bring Merlin's book here from outside to read it?"

It's worrying, but seeing how Nimue understands enough of the situation, Daniel nods, gripping it closer.

"We did," he admits.

"It's not a book I remember, so it must carry later research and notes he wrote. With whatever time remaining, it would be better to read it now rather than me retell the past."

Daniel twists his lips to the side. Truthfully, it's a blessing to have Nimue as a living source of information, even if her presence within Viviane is concerning. That said, she's right that they probably don't have forever to go through her life.

"How do you even know the book is from Merlin?" Viviane asks.

Taken aback, Nimue blinks. "Really? Can't you sense the flames that would belong to him?"

"Wha... No, of course not!" Viviane growls, increasingly annoyed. "I thought that would've been clear after I lost access to myself."

From the shared memories between Anne and Daniel, Viviane does recall Nimue's words to Merlin when she approached him using her daughter's appearance.

"Oh my, Merlin, very impressive! You've gotten better at distinguishing the flames in us."

Victor Grayson was also able to tell these hidden flames. Unfortunately, other than knowing Merlin's first message came from the book, she has no way to tell if it was from him.

Nimue raises her hands up in defense, chuckling nervously. "Sorry, sorry! I'm just not sure how much you've retained."

Clearing herself, she lowers her hands and continues. "But, don't worry, it's not something I could sense either when I started. I might be able to teach you again later, but just know that I can tell the book has Merlin's markings. Not only that, it's drawn to you if what I'm feeling is correct. If Merlin intended for it to be read by you, there must be something in it that would explain the reality of why you were sealed and what happened to us."

Viviane hopes that's true. She feels familiar with the strange letters on the paper, but neither enlightenment nor messages came when reading it outside the domain. How would it be any different here?

If it is, the problem is whether she can trust to reveal Merlin's knowledge to her predecessor.

Sensing this distrust, Nimue raises her hands and steps back. "I realize you're all wary of me, but unless there's a different domain, this might be the only chance you'll be able to read his words."

"Why do you say that? In fact, you can't keep throwing random knowledge at us as if it's common sense!" Viviane counters flatly. "Nothing is common about this!"

This time, the lack of awareness stuns Nimue as she widens her eyes.

"Wait..." she starts slowly before narrowing. "Does that mean you all haven't noticed?"

The two artists eye each other, starting to share Viviane's annoyance. However, Daniel volunteers to take the bait, sighing.

"Notice what?"

Seeing the clueless faces, Nimue inhales silently before turning away and lifting a hand to her chin.

"Could it be that we are all speaking Latin then?" she mutters.

Latin?

Only English has been spoken thus far, but that seed of doubt is enough to start the gears in everyone's minds. Mary is the first to fill the odd silence with a gasp, her pupils shrinking.

"Wait a goddamn minute!" she shrieks, throwing her hands to her head. "How is it possible that we can even understand you!? Not only that, but the memories that were shared from the past were also heard in... English?"

Daniel stiffens, mentally slapping himself as well. As far as he knows, modern English couldn't have existed back then, so why can they recall memories and understand them so easily?

He swallows slowly, eyes locked on the confused enchantress. "Are you saying we're speaking Latin to your ears?"

Nimue refocuses on them, nodding. "Yes? If I'm to understand what you said, you are speaking this... English?"

"That's right," Daniel answers and sheepishly rubs his neck. "I'm ashamed we didn't realize this until now, so how can we understand you and the memories shared?"

"That's the unusual part of our nature that even Merlin was confounded by. Any people we connect with not only bring their language, but their experiences are stored in a way that can always be understood by others. When you enter a domain that's part of us, anything you bring can benefit from being read better.

"No language barrier, huh?"

"Merlin took advantage of this, creating his own secret language that wouldn't be understood except by him within our domains. That's why I believe you should be focusing on reading that book right now."

Everyone hesitates, so Nimue steps back. "I won't pry. Really, you shouldn't reveal anything to me if you think it will create a problem."

Holding the book, Daniel thins his lips for a moment before turning his head to Viviane.

"Mother..."

Leaving it up to the secondary Lady of the Lake, Viviane groans, placing her face into her hands. After a few breaths pass, she drops her hands and squints towards her predecessor.

"Take a few steps back."

"Ah...okay."

Nimue sadly follows her daughter's order.

"More."

The enchantress flinches, her lips turning crooked. "V-viviane, my dear, I swear, I won't..."

"More."

"Uuuuh..." The enchantress pitifully weeps at her daughter's distrust but abides, increasing the distance until she's partially hidden under the dense fog.

It may have been overkill, but Viviane didn't want any chance of her guardian finding a way to peek. Huffing, she leans toward Daniel. "Open it."

Mary joins in as the group huddles closer with the male artist in the middle. When he opens it to the first two pages, however...

Blank.

"Motherfucker!"

Clenching her teeth, a fed-up Viviane throws her hand into a fist, barreling straight into the opened book before her son can react. Under the frustrations of his slime mother, Daniel only remembers the counterforce that repelled Nimue earlier.

Viviane wasn't there to witness it.

"Wait, don't...!"

Thump!

But she would experience it soon.