Nerdanel lay on a cold stone floor. Every part of her ached, as if she'd been torn limb from limb, chewed up, and spit out. Indeed, that was more or less exactly what happened - Nerdanel remembered dying and being reanimated again and again, each death more horrible than the last, and then... the nothing.
Now the stone floor was no longer cold, as a ring of fire lit up around her. In the shadows, a set of blazing orange eyes burned for her, and then the figure came closer. It was her father Mahtan, but his eyes were different.
And then, suddenly, his entire body was different, as he waved a hand in front of himself and his glamour fell. Instead of red hair like hers, his hair was white gold. He was no mere Elf, but something much more.
"Who are you?" Nerdanel croaked out. "What are you?"
"I am Mairon of the Maiar," he said, sounding exasperated, as if he'd explained this to her already. The horror of each death had, however, affected her memory, so if he'd told her before she could not recall.
"That... that can't be. You are my father... I am half-Maia?"
"And half-Vala." Mairon bowed his head, looking pensive. "Vairë is your mother."
"No." Nerdanel couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You said my mother was dead -"
"I said that obviously as part of the ruse. I lived among Elves to watch them." Mairon looked up, defiant. "We were never truly part of them."
Nerdanel struggled for words. "Vairë... and you? Vairë is wed to Mandos... the Valar each only have one mate, as they taught the Children in the Laws -"
"The gods were the first hypocrites... and that of course is in your blood, breaking the Laws as you did," Mairon said, snickering. "It does not matter now. Vairë and I are old history. But you, my dear daughter... you and I have just begun."
Before Nerdanel could speak, or try to get up and run, gripped with a sudden terror, Mairon raised his hands and the flames shot upwards. Nerdanel's hair was singed, and she could feel her skin starting to burn from the proximity of the heat. Through the fire came Mairon's voice. "Fare forth, and we will meet again."
Suddenly the heat of the fire went away, and the shadows, and there was only light. She was weightless, floating like bubbles on air. It was blessed, blessed relief, and for this she was grateful. As horrifying as it was to know that her entire existence had been a lie, her father had released her from the pain of her resurrected body, and the pain of the fire, and there was bliss now. No fear.
She trusted that her father would make things right, somehow. He always did. He had spoiled her throughout her entire life.
_
Juniper Kelly Roberts was born and raised in Florida; she was as Southern as the sweet tea she liked to drink. But she was not a perfect Southern lady in every way - she had a love of sports, especially soccer. She showed promise until she was in her teens and suffered a nasty strain on the field, tearing a muscle.
While she was laid up, she discovered the world of books, which took her places. She especially loved folktales and mythology, and had enough experience with liminal, strange-feeling places when she played and explored outside to believe what she was reading might not entirely be fictional. Her bookworm tendencies began to make her a bit of an outsider, where she had once been a popular jock, and she decided that if she was going to be seen as a freak, she was going to at least scare people into thinking twice about messing with her. So she became a goth, and soon enough pretending to be a witch became an actual interest in witchcraft, and a minor talent for it.
When Juniper Roberts told people "Bless your heart," she was laying a curse.
One day shortly after her twenty-fifth birthday, she was on one of her regular thrift shop runs for new used clothing, and an antique shop was newly opened next door. Out of curiosity, she found herself browsing the antique shop, including its selection of vintage jewelry. A ring caught her eye - a white gold band, set with symbols that looked like runes.
"Can I see that ring, darlin'?" she asked the sales clerk.
The old man took it out of the case and handed it to her. Much to her surprise and delight, the ring actually fit on her right index finger. It also thrummed faintly on her hand, and Juniper did a double-take as the ring seemed to glow. She wondered if the old man could see it too or if it was just another instance of the Sight. Either way, it felt like she was meant to have it, that this was a magic amulet that would boost her power and make her will even more effective.
Once the ring went on, it never came off. Juniper even showered and slept with the ring on. And within nine days, Juniper had her first intense dream. In her dream the ring slipped off her finger and began to float. She followed the ring out into the night, into the shadows. There was a cornfield, and the moon. The moon began to glow orange, and suddenly the corn was on fire, and there was a figure in the cornfield that looked like a scarecrow, but he came to life, a beautiful, terrible man with white-gold hair, eyes like the fire.
Come to me, daughter. It is time for you to awaken.
The dream repeated. At first it was only once or twice a week. Then it became every other night. Then it became every night, and then the dream began to shift, with different recurring elements.
In one version of the dream, Juniper followed the ring into the cornfield, and in the cornfield was a carnival. The man who called her "daughter" was riding the ferris wheel, and she joined him, and when they rode to the top she saw the world burning down, like the cornfield had burned in her first dream of him.
Look at that. Isn't it glorious? All those pathetic humans, overpopulating the world, polluting it, acting like savages. They deserve to die.
Juniper had long since rejected the "harm none" of Wicca, cursing for even the smallest of slights. She prided herself on working with dark gods, thinking herself a warrior in a world full of weaklings. Bring on the apocalypse, she replied.
Indeed. Cull the herd, purify the land. The man smiled.
In another version of the dream, Juniper saw the carnival in the cornfield again, and this time she entered a house of mirrors. The mirrors seemed infinite. In some of them she was herself, with slight variations in appearance and attire. But in most of them the mirrors reflected a male form - handsome, a bit haughty. He looked very much like a male version of her. In one mirror Juniper saw him kicking a soccer ball around.
Is that me? Juniper asked.
The man who called her daughter nodded. In worlds where you were born male, your name is Justin.
Juniper snickered, thinking of Bieber. That's a stupid name.
Where he dreams this dream, he thinks it's just as stupid that there are worlds where he's a girl. He hates women.
Juniper sneered. I hate everyone.
Then Juniper looked into the mirror directly in front of her and her reflection changed. She was still female, but now she was very tall, and muscular, yet still had a feminine shape to her body - larger breasts. The woman in the mirror had long auburn hair, freckles, blue eyes. A gown of green instead of the black dress Juniper was wearing. Jewelry made of copper and set with green gems, instead of Juniper's silver jewelry and fondness for black and red stones.
Pointy ears, just like the fae and elves in all those folktales she was fond of reading.
Juniper gasped, and the woman in the mirror gasped too. Juniper blinked with disbelief, and the woman in the mirror blinked. Juniper waved her hand and the woman was waving along with her. Juniper stuck out her tongue and so did the woman in the mirror. Juniper began to dance in the mirror and the woman did the same dance.
The woman was her, but it made no sense. That is not me, she told the man.
It was you. A very long time ago.
A chill went through Juniper, and before she could ask for more information, she watched the mirror with the redheaded woman start to shatter, the glass going dark.
The dreams felt more and more intense each time, almost as if the dreams were what was real and reality was the dream. Juniper was starting to get the urge to see if the carnival she dreamt of was in fact real, and began to search the newspapers and the Internet, looking for answers.
There were no carnivals-in-cornfields anywhere nearby, but there was a carnival within a half-hour drive from where she lived. She drove out there, heart pounding the entire ride. She was as sure she would find what she was looking for, as she was sure the ring had power.
The carnival was mostly deserted on a weekday afternoon in the winter months. Juniper wondered if she'd been wrong, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd come to the right place, she just had to wait.
At last she found him at a ring toss booth. His eyes were unusually violet instead of blazing orange, but he was otherwise just as she dreamt of.
"You," was all she could say, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth, knowing how mad she sounded.
But he just grinned. "Hello, Juniper. I've been expecting you." Despite the pleasantness, his voice was deep, menacing.
"You... you know my name." She pointed with the index finger of her right hand, the finger wearing the ring. Her finger shook. "How -"
"Well, of course I would know your name," the man said. "We are well acquainted by now."
"Not so well acquainted." Juniper tossed her hair and put a hand on her hip. "I don't even know your name."
"For all intents and purposes, you may call me Marion."
"That's not your real name, is it?"
"It's close enough." Marion smiled. "Juniper isn't your real name, either."
"Uh huh it is, it says so right on my birth certificate."
Marion threw back his head and laughed, seemingly delighted. "There is factual and there is real, my dear, and soon you will learn the difference between the two. But never mind the small things right now. We have great work ahead of us."
"You act as if I'm going to be working for you."
"You already know that's why you're here. Although... we won't be staying here for long."
"No? Where are we going?" Juniper was intrigued and frightened at the same time.
"To Hell," Marion said. "Also known as Indiana."