<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 19pt;">Millicent Stokes</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">Your head will collapse, if there's nothing in it...</span></div><br/><hr/><br/>Millicent had taken pains to keep her sister off the ground, Margolynn perched atop her left shoulder, her tiny fingers wrapped around her sister's hair. Her armor clanked as she stepped over puddles gingerly, keeping a cautious eye out for traps. The catacomb walls swirled and twisted, faces peeking from the rocks to moan or offer incoherent words of warning, mud dribbling down their craggy lips as they chanted and gibbered at Millicent. No one else seemed to notice, so Millicent reasoned it was just her imagination. This would have calmed her, if she were capable of feeling stark terror at the phantasms of her mind, but after so many years of waking nightmares, she had grown decidedly numb. To her companions, she must have made a strange sight though, her arm crooked up to hold an invisible parcel. She knew Margolynn was as much a phantom as the terrors that lined the walls of the ancient cave. The difference was that she didn't care. There was reassurance in those tiny fingers as they played with her hair, and though she was impossibly light, the weight was soothing to Milly.<br/><br/>When at last they came to the tainted shore of the subterranean lake, she let Margo down at her side, taking a few measured steps closer to the shimmering surface of the water. Faces stripped of their flesh by fish and putrification screamed up at her, tongues waggling hungrily from lipless mouths, their teeth eternally bared in a snarl. Further out she could make out shapes equal parts serpentine and nightmare, great beasts from the depths of her subconscious letting out horrific shrieks no human throat could mimic.<br/><br/>She was more attentive to Cell however as the waif made her way towards the water's edge, dipping her finger in with abandon. Millicent had already come to the conclusion that what she was seeing were her own night terrors, but it was always nice to have some small degree of reassurance. Her eyes did not lie to her whole heartedly she found. She saw things that were not there, but never had she NOT seen those things which were real. It was a strange distinction that kept her from being locked away or put down like a rabid dog. Her eyes lied. She was sharp enough to catch the deception... most of the time. Cell told her that on the other side of the lake there was a vessel. Given her abilities it should be no trouble to bring it from the distant shore, she told Milly. Milly would have told her otherwise, but she knew it would take too long to explain.<br/><br/>Millicent sighed, resting her hand on Margolynn's head, her fingers feeling the gossamer tickle of her sister's long black hair. Petting her slowly, she leaned down and whispered in her sister's ear. The healers had done their best to put her back together, psychologically speaking, but it was her own innate abilities that helped her circumvent the damage. She could not readily reason with her madness... but Margolynn could. A delusion herself, Margolynn was the most attentive of her hallucinations, and acted at times as the middleman in the negotiation between Millicent and her inner demons.<br/><br/>Taking place in the stage of Millicent's mind, her sister threw up her tiny little arms, her eyes glowing vibrant green as she began to chant. In the distance one of the nightmarish serpents of Millicent's unconscious mind stood up from the stagnant pool, making a choked gurgling sound as it strained against Margolynn's will. The struggle was short lived as it dove underwater and began the long swim towards the opposite shore.<br/><br/>Millicent closed her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest as she listened intently to her sister's monotone crooning. She was experiencing a slight degree of vertigo by casting out her powers on an unseen target. Still, on some level she felt the slight strain as her enslaved madness at last came in contact with the boat. Dragging it along was a steady process, and Millicent only opened her eyes as she felt it drawing closer. The rickety vessel was towed by a vast black serpent, its skin shimmering like mother of pearl and tar. Covered in yellow and black ichor from the deeper levels of Milly's subconscious, the beasts teeth were set jauntily in it's maw, the ragged ivory looking as likely to cut its own mouth as devour prey.<br/><br/>Dozens of eyes blinked as it stared down at Margolynn and Millicent, its breath smelling of sweet stagnation. Milly gripped her grapple as she climbed aboard the ship, the chain grinding between her gauntlet as she began to spin it at her side leisurely. With a short cry she released it, the barbed grapple piercing the hide of the beast, another of its inhuman shrieks echoing through the caverns.<br/><br/>To onlookers, her grapple seemed to simply suspend itself in midair, floating impossibly at the outskirts of their feeble torch light. With great care she secured the chain to a series of steel rings at the bow of the ship, hopeful that the rotted wood would hold. When at last they had all boarded, Margolynn let her arms droop, releasing the serpent. Millicent gritted her teeth as the chain suddenly grew sharply taut, the beast pulling them out across the surface of the lake.<br/><br/>Using the chain as a crude bridle, her slender arms were tense as she strained to guide the unruly hallucination. Uncertain of how far they were going, and with no basis of reference that they were even headed in a straight line, she was forced to rely on Cell as a compass. Millicent had begun to grow pale, the strain making her ever more nauseous as they continued. She tried not to think about it. After all, the horrors that were in this cave were in reality confined to the borders of her skull. Not like the others...<br/><br/><strong>6 months prior...</strong><br/><br/>Deveraux nervously rubbed his fingers together to warm them as he sat with his back to the door. The frost radiated from the iron door, making his skin feel tight and prickly, his fingers full of needles as he tried to flex the life back into them. It was warm just ten feet in, past the entrance hall. He could smell the food and even smell the bitter vinegar stench of cheap wine from here. But he had made the choice to stand guard tonight, preferring the risk of frostbite to the presence of that... abomination.<br/><br/>It called itself Mr. Hyne, as if it had a right to a name.<br/><br/>Deveraux was a religious man, despite his given profession of hired thug. Breaking the extremities of debtors and providing a watchful eye for smuggling jobs were tasks he excelled at, taking a certain amount of pride in himself and his skills, in so far as he allowed.<br/><br/>After all, pride was a sin too.<br/><br/>But this was different. This was the job to end all jobs. Enough money to set him and his family (a stray dog named Chloe) with enough money to start up his small messenger service business. Only because it brought his dream within grasp did he contemplate dealing with such profanities as Mr. Hyne. Cupping his hands to catch the warmth of his breath, he started at the sound of a sharp rap on the door. Shocked as he was so violently thrown from his thoughts, his hand trembled only half from the cold as he reached to slide the latch on the peekhole open, "Yes?"<br/><br/>The woman on the other side of the door was petite of form, looking rather delicate of constitution. But her armor was that of a Sword Maid, which was certainly cause for concern. There was no paladin's crest or house stamped upon her breast plate however. It was unadorned, making it seem that while she may shop at the same armory, she was not one of the Order. As she looked up and their eyes met, Deveraux felt the bottom drop out of his guts. This was NOT a Sword Maiden...<br/><br/>In the city of Vale her face was equal parts notorious and infamous. Not bothering to close the latch, Deveraux turned and ran towards the main hall, his voice raised to a pitch that was clearly not comfortable for him. "The Cock Breaker is here!"<br/><br/>Outside, her hair swept in the frigid winds, Millicent gritted her teeth at the name. The Maidens had jokingly given her the title, "The Apostate", her soiled spiritual status freeing her to perform the jobs they could not perform... though somehow were never timid about asking her to perform. But the nickname that had stuck was decidedly less flattering.<br/><br/>Cock Breaker.<br/><br/>"They mean it as a compliment... kind of?" Margolynn smiled winningly up at her sister, her cloak bundled tightly around her little frame. She couldn't really feel the cold, being non-existant and all, but Millicent's perception forced certain rules upon the phantasm. It was freezing outside and Margolynn should be cold, so... she was cold.<br/><br/>"A compliment, huh? I'm going to compliment each one of them individually." Millicent muttered checking the straps on her gauntlets habitually. It was a nervous tick she had, when she was about to start hitting things. Her small companion let out a squeak, hugging herself nervously at the sight of her sister's preparations, "Won't you please tell me when to turn away, Milly? Please?"<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>Ravnis and his men followed Deveraux to the entryway, the brigands already on edge thanks to their guest. A rogue Sword Maiden prying into their affairs was something Ravnis couldn't tolerate at this juncture. Particularly Millicent Stokes, "Deveraux! You are certain it was the Apostate?"<br/><br/>As he asked, the iron door made a sound like a bell ringing sharply. The impression of knuckles stood up two inches from the force of the impact, followed in rapid succession by another set... and another...<br/><br/>"Pretty certain..." Deveraux responded snarkily, his sword drawn and shaking in his grip from terror at the steady pounding of the knight's fist. It began to buckle in its frame, the iron squealing as it bowed inwards. Silence loomed for a full ten seconds when it seemed most likely for the door to give way. Had she hurt herself? Maybe she'd given up?<br/><br/>The reality of the situation was she had been banging with her left fist... and she was right handed. Milly had paused only to reposition herself on the right side before tearing the door of its hinges with a sharp uppercut. It fell forward with a clank that echoed throughout the hall, rocking back and forth briefly, its shape distorted from the barrage.<br/><br/>Ravnis drew his swords, showing off his martial expertise via a rapid flourish of the blades, a trick he'd learned from a Row merchant who had started his career as a juggler. It was usually effective enough at scaring people off though. Falling into a battle stance he sneered at her, "Am I supposed to be scared? Do you know who I am, little girl?"<br/><br/>Millicent slid an armored toe beneath the heavy door, nonchalantly kicking it off of the ground. It spun through the air, slamming into Ravnis and shattering his collarbone on impact. As he struggled beneath the door, she stepped forward, putting her full weight (93 lbs) on top of it. "No... who are you?"<br/><br/>His men were not particularly loyal to the cause, but she was in between them and their escape, panic taking the place of bravery as they gathered their wits and charged her all at once. To her eyes they had the faces of jackals, grinning nervously as they sought to nip at her, overpowering her with numbers alone. She unlatched the lock on her scabbard, drawing her blade and striking in a single motion. The arc of her blade severed fingers, slashed cheeks and shattered thin blades as if they weren't there, the brigands pausing at the cries of the injured amongst their ranks.<br/><br/>Despite the numbers, it was clear the odds were heavily in her favor... until the main chamber door opened. Millicent stared at the man as he entered, swathed in bandages and silken robes. Where it was visible, his skin was a shade of black so dark it seemed one could fall into him. His eyes were the same, pits of glistening blackness. The air shimmered around him with something akin to a heat haze, as if reality itself did not wish to tolerate his continued presence.<br/><br/>She raised an eyebrow, taking note of the fear in the eyes of the brigands as they began to move towards her. It was hard to say how much of what she was seeing was real and how much was her madness... but there was something about this man that terrified the rogues even more than she did. Ravnis had managed to escape from beneath the door, clutching his shoulder as he whimpered at their guest, "Mr. Hyne! We've got this under control! Please..."<br/><br/>He was cut short as the creature gestured sharply with its left hand. The hand ended in a twisted claw and the gesture ended in a spray of blood, Ravnis falling to the ground significantly shorter than he had been. His head hit the ground a moment later with a dull plop. Millicent felt the blood speckle her cheek, and she could not help but taste the coppery tang across her lip.<br/><br/>This thing was real.<br/><br/>She charged, bringing her blade down on the man's head, only to watch Mr. Hyne's neck twist bonelessly out of the way. His mouth opened revealing row after row of shark's teeth as he bit down on her sword. Like the blade of a chainsaw, his teeth seemed to vibrate and gnash within the gum line, sparks flying as a great furrow was dug into Milly's blade.<br/><br/>Deadlocked, her eyes widened in shock for the first time in years. A single word escaped her lips, tinged with panic, "Margo!" Her sister slid in between Mr. Hyne's legs, wrapping her arms around his knees. With the strength of a titan, the ten year old lifted the creature straight up, pulling Millicent off her feet as well as she clung tenaciously to her blade which was still wedged in between the beast's teeth.<br/><br/>Mr. Hyne's head came into sharp contact with the low ceiling, making a sickening crackling noise like wax paper as his neck bent at a sharp angle. The impact caused his teeth to pass entirely through the blade, and Millicent dropped to the floor gracelessly. She examined the large bite taken out of her blade, touching it to be sure that she wasn't just imagining this.<br/><br/>No... this was real. Too real.<br/><br/>She sheathed the blade in its metal scabbard, locking it into place before drawing it again sheathed. Mr. Hyne had already picked himself up off the ground, his head lolling bonelessly on his shoulder. It didn't seem to have hurt him overly much however as he charged her. Millicent blocked his claws with her blade, the impact sending her hurtling out of the door she'd just come through and into the soft snow. She rolled over on all fours, struggling to her feet, the mountain hide out placed dangerously close to the cliffside. Blinded by the fierce snow fall and the wind, she extended her bastard sword in front of her defensively as Mr. Hyne stepped out of the stronghold, steam rising from his ebony body as the beast began to shred its clothing. Millicent would have been terrified at this point... if she was capable.<br/><br/>Her imaginary sister stepped in front of the beast, pushing it backwards. Weak from her earlier over exertion, Margolynn found herself struggling against the beast. After a brief contest of strength, Mr. Hyne shoved the invisible barrier out of his way. To Millicent's eyes however, she watched Margolynn get tossed across the field of snow.<br/><br/>Milly bared her teeth letting out a bestial roar of her own at Mr. Hyne, her armor clattering as she charged. With a sweeping strike, her sword bent on impact, scabbard and all, as she brought it across the monster's ribcage. As Mr. Hyne toppled over, she leapt on top of him, bringing her fist down on his face. As nightmarish as its face had been, she managed to make it substantially worse after the tenth time she brought her fist down, ooze spraying from the multiple holes left by her spiked knuckles.<br/><br/>Caught up in a frenzy, she was oblivious to the world around her, the brigands escaping in a paniced mob. It was only when Margolynn's tiny fingers came to rest on her back that she paused, the monster's head resembling a pate more than a man now. Peering over her shoulder, ichor dripping from her face, Millicent shook her head, "What the fuck was that?"<br/><br/>"That's a brown word, Milly." Margolynn chastised her, covering her ears at the word "fuck". Millicent laughed, wrapping an arm around her sister, smiling underneath the layer of gore, "... sorry, shorty."<br/><br/>The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone stumbling. Deveraux flailed about in the snow, suddenly aware that the "Cock Breaker" had taken notice of him. Panicing as he tried to get to his feet, he froze at the sound of her voice as she shouted "Hey! Bring your carcass over here. Do not make me get up and chase you, double ugly. I am extremely winded right now, so I would be forced to severely hurt you."<br/><br/>Weighing the odds instantly, he whimpered, "Yes milady... coming!"<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>Millicent was jarred back to the present as the ship hit the otherside. She took a staggering stepped forward off of the vessel, splashing in a foot of water as she turned breathlessly back to the boat. Milly held out her arms as if to catch something, as she imagined her sister leaping into her embrace. Clutching her with one arm, Millicent drew her sword, using it as a cane as she wearily pulled herself to shore.<br/><br/>Unattended by her thoughts, the "serpent" disappeared into her subconscious, leaving her grapple to submit to the will of gravity. It clattered on the shore with a merry tinkle of metal against stone. Millicent made it to dry land after a few shuddering steps, letting her sister down gently on the stone. Supporting herself on her own blade, she breathed in and out like a bellows, the exertion of using her telekinetic abilities so directly making her nauseous. Slowly growing calm, she flopped onto her backside, unlatching her chest plate momentarily to allowed herself to cool. Her tunic clung to her, drenched with sweat from the long haul.<br/><br/>Margolynn chimed merrily as she stared at the door, "Milly! Milly! Look!" Millicent felt the world spin as she tilted her neck up to peer at the tall doorway, "Do you want me to open it? I got it!" Watching Margo place her tiny hands against the doorway, Millicent began to feel nauseous all over again. The surface of the door cracked from the pressure but otherwise didn't budge.<br/><br/>"MARGO!"<br/><br/>Margolynn stopped what she was doing, the little girl removing her hands from the door to sheepishly play with her dress. The imprint of a two children's hands were etched in the door, but it hadn't budged a centimeter. Millicent laid back to stare up at the inky darkness of the cavern roof, "Just... sit down for a minute and let me catch my breath, okay?" The knight began to catch her breath slowly, watching the torch light glimmer off of her grappling hook blade. Meditative to a certain extent, she found if only briefly she was too exhausted to even hallucinate. It never lasted long enough, these fleeting moments of lucidity.