"Mother Rose!"
The voice carried from the hallway, teasing and affectionate.
Rose Lai turned with an exaggerated groan. "Sona. How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"
The Nightsister approaching them ducked her head, cheeks flushing green beneath her pale skin. "I know, I'm sorry, Moth—Miss Lai."
Rose rolled her eyes, but her smile softened the gesture. "Miss Lai is marginally better than Mother Rose." She muttered under her breath, "I'd prefer to be called mother after I actually have children, thank you."
Wanda smirked at the exchange, earning a pointed look from Rose.
"What brings you running, Sona?" Rose asked.
"The clan leaders have arrived." Sona straightened, professionalism reasserting itself. "Kamina of the Raining Leaves, Astrinno of the Singing Mountain, and Ogwen of the Misty Falls. They're waiting in the council chamber."
"Already?" Rose's eyebrows rose. "That was faster than expected." She turned to Wanda. "Come on. You should meet them."
"Are you sure?" Wanda gestured at herself—her simple red tunic, her unkempt hair. "This looks like official clan business. I'm an outsider."
"An outsider who saved Dathomir from my mother." Rose's voice carried steel beneath the warmth. "Trust me, they'll want to meet you."
Wanda glanced at Merlin and Illyana. Both girls looked uncertain, out of their depth. She squeezed their hands. "Together?"
They nodded.
"Then let's go."
The council chamber was smaller than Wanda expected. A hexagonal table dominated the center, surrounded by carved stone chairs that looked older than most civilizations. Three women sat waiting, each radiating power in subtly different ways.
"Sisters," Rose called out, striding in with confidence that belied her youth. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
The woman directly across from the entrance rose smoothly. Her skin was deep brown, nearly black, and her hair fell in intricate braids woven with charms and beads that clinked softly with each movement. Robes of earth tones—browns, beiges, deep greens—marked her as someone who drew power from living things.
"The honor is ours, Rose Lai." Her voice carried the weight of age despite her appearance suggesting middle years. "We came as soon as your message reached us."
Another woman—this one with albino-pale skin marked by black tattoos beneath her lower lip and across the bridge of her nose—leaned forward with undisguised curiosity. "And who might this be?"
Wanda stood straighter under the scrutiny. Three pairs of eyes assessed her with the kind of intensity usually reserved for potential threats or valuable acquisitions.
"This is Wanda Maximoff," Rose said, gesturing. "And her students, Merlin and Illyana."
She indicated each woman in turn. "Wanda, these are Kamina of the Raining Leaves, Astrinno of the Singing Mountain, and Ogwen of the Misty Falls clans."
Wanda bowed respectfully, and the girls mimicked her movement. She'd learned enough Dathomirian customs to know that showing deference cost nothing and earned much.
Ogwen rose from her chair and approached, movements fluid as water. She stopped directly in front of Wanda, studying her face with eyes that seemed to see through flesh to the power beneath.
"You're the outsider who defeated Zalem." Not a question. A statement.
Wanda met her gaze without flinching. "I had help."
"But you struck the killing blow." Ogwen's expression remained neutral, unreadable. "On behalf of my clan and all the tribes of Dathomir who suffered under her reign, you have our gratitude. We are in your debt."
The formal acknowledgment made Wanda uncomfortable. Debts had weight on Dathomir. Power. She'd saved these people because it was the right thing to do, not to gain leverage.
"No debt necessary," she said quietly. "I did what anyone would do."
"She was truly defeated, then?" Kamina spoke up, doubt coloring her words. "Zalem is gone?"
"I executed her," Rose said flatly.
"And you've taken her place." Astrinno's observation held no judgment, just fact.
"I'm trying to be better than what she was." Rose's jaw set. "Hence this meeting."
"Which brings us to an interesting point." Kamina's gaze shifted to Wanda. "Why is an outsider present at a gathering of clan leaders?"
"I'm here representing Mother Talzin and the Nightsisters," Wanda said carefully. "While this isn't an official capacity, I'll report back to her what's discussed. I'm sure she won't object."
"You're not one of us," Astrinno pointed out.
"No. But I've earned the right to sit at this table."
"Have you?" Kamina's eyes narrowed. "Are you aware of the... complicated history between the Nightsisters and the other clans?"
"I am." Wanda kept her voice level. "And I choose not to participate in ancient grudges that serve no purpose but to divide when unity would make you stronger."
The three leaders exchanged glances. Some unspoken communication passed between them.
"Very well," Kamina said finally. "We may need your assistance, Lady Maximoff."
The title surprised Wanda. So did the request. "With what?"
Kamina's expression darkened. "Tell me—have you returned to the site of Zalem's ritual chamber? Where the invasive power was strongest?"
Wanda's blood ran cold. "No. Why? What's happened?"
"There's a disturbance." Kamina folded her arms. "A presence in the air. As though Zalem's work wasn't ended, only... interrupted."
"Wait." Wanda's hands clenched. "The blue dome? I destroyed it completely. Tore it apart from the inside out."
Astrinno shook her head. "Power like that doesn't simply disappear. Its roots run deep. Even destroyed, residue remains. And residue can be harvested by those who know how."
"We were focused on stopping Zalem," Wanda said, frustration bleeding into her voice. "On saving the captives. We didn't think about—"
"You did what you could in the moment," Ogwen interrupted gently. "No one faults you for that. But the situation has... evolved."
"How do you know this?" Rose asked.
"I saw it." Ogwen raised one hand. White mist—not the sickly green of Nightsister magick, but something cleaner, brighter—coalesced around her fingers. "Through the rituals of my clan, we glimpse futures that may come to pass. During our recent ceremonies, I sensed wrongness. A disturbance in the natural order of things."
The mist grew, spreading into a sphere that hovered above her palm. Then it shifted, reformed, stretched into symbols that hung in the air like ghostly writing.
Wanda leaned closer, squinting. The characters were familiar in shape but utterly alien in meaning. "What are those?"
"Ancient Nightsister script," Ogwen said quietly. "Carved by the founder and first matriarch of that order. A woman of terrible power and worse intentions."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Her name," Ogwen continued, "was Gethzerion."
"Gethzerion." Wanda tested the name. It felt wrong on her tongue, sharp and bitter. "Sounds ominous. Who was she?"
"Is," Astrinno corrected. "Not was. Is."
"She was—is—the closest thing to a living nightmare that Dathomir has ever produced." Ogwen's usual composure cracked slightly. "For centuries, she ruled this planet with absolute power. Enslaved entire clans. Bent the very fabric of reality to her will."
"She sounds immortal," Merlin whispered.
"Near enough." Kamina's expression was grim. "Age doesn't touch her the way it touches normal beings."
Wanda tilted her head. "How old are we talking?"
"Six hundred years," Ogwen said flatly. "Give or take a decade."
Silence crashed down.
"I'm sorry." Wanda blinked. "Six hundred?"
"She founded the Nightsister order during the Age of Darkness," Ogwen explained. "When Dathomir was ruled by warlords and blood sacrifice powered magicks too terrible to name. She rose to power through cunning, cruelty, and a gift for the dark side that put even the Sith to shame."
"My lineage descends from her daughters," Ogwen added quietly. "The Misty Falls clan was founded by those who escaped her control. We've spent generations trying to atone for her sins."
Wanda's mind raced. Six hundred years. That predated most modern civilization in the galaxy. This woman—this thing—had been alive when the Republic was young, when the Jedi were still establishing their first temples.
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