The sound of thunder shook Yasmine out of her nap. She shook her head and pressed her hand down to the couch to steady herself only to find a cold, hard surface beneath her fingers. She looked down and slid her fingers across the surface, stone? She scrambled to her feet and peered around. She was surrounded almost completely by darkness. Only a few small candles were lit at intervals down what looked like a curving hallway. A few feet away a glassless stone window opened to the outside. She frowned and stepped over to it, pulling away when a blast of rain caught her in the face. She shook her head and squinted through the storm. She couldn’t see anything.

She turned around and looked to where she had come from, a wall blocked her path going that way. She turned right and narrowed her eyes, drawing mana into her body and nothing. Nothing came. No mana? That was impossible. She rubbed her face, trying to remember what she had been doing before waking up in this place. She’d come home, she’d talked to Shayde-

“Shayde!” Yasmine shouted, “Shayde! Where are you?” She shouted again, turning to the hallway when she didn’t hear a response. “Son of a bitch, if some motherfucker hurt my daugther…” She growled, stomping down the hallway and calling out her daughter’s name. “Shayde! Shayde!”

She broke into a run, rushing down the stone hall. Every now and then she’d spot a door embedded in the wall. She’d tug and pull on it but found that it wouldn’t budge. Without her powers she couldn’t force it either. She snarled and continued to run, the candles whipping by her. It was only when she heard a sudden sound that she was forced to stop and listen. It was a clattering sound, like wood on wood. She froze, tilting her head in the direction of the sound.

The clacking repeated rhythmically, over and over, each strike sounding eerie in the hallway. It was strange, it sometimes sounded like the cry of a baby and other times it sounded like steel sliding across flesh, other times it sounded like an explosion. She looked up to the ceiling, “Where the hell am I? Who’s there? Show yourself!” She demanded, but no response came. Cursing colorfully she slammed her fist into the wall and to her surprise felt no pain. She looked at her knuckles in surprise, not even a scratch.

The sounds continued down the hall, drawing her closer. She frowned and pursued it, walking across the cold floor and towards the source. She followed the hall until she saw light pouring out of a doorway at the far end. She broke into another run, sliding to a stop when she came to the door. “Shayde!” She shouted, only to find that her voice didn’t come. She reached up to her throat in surprise as she took in the dreary room beyond. Only a few torches kept the space lit around piles of fibers on one side of the room. On the other side of the room she found the source of the sound.

A woman in gray sat at a loom, her eyes fixed on her work. She lifted the wooden bar and slid it across lines of thread that shimmered and glittered like metal. She brought the bar down and a sound like the last gasp of a life echoed around her. She raised it again and Yasmine felt her legs root to the spot. She tried to take a step but found that her feet weighed a ton. She tried to speak again, demanding to know what was going on but no sound came and the woman paid her no mind. Over and over the woman worked the loom and as she did so a single thread began to rise up among the others. Yasmine felt her eyes drawn to it, the loom finally coming down on it and with a clack, the thread was snipped free.

The woman stopped in her work and looked at the long silver thread, taking it in her hand. The next thing Yasmine knew she was standing next to the woman. Disoriented, Yasmine could only try to focus as the woman grabbed her by the wrist and looked up into her eyes. The woman was beautiful, a woman of maturity and grace. She did not smile nor did she frown. Instead as her lips parted Yasmine felt as if the entire universe was turning around them. Her heart practically stopped when the woman spoke:

A new rebel rises

ascending from the dark

forged in the flames of war

the cries of the people

the wrath of the mighty

they stand against the tide

you, rebel, fatemarked

She wrapped the thread around Yasmine’s wrist and tied it tightly, it dug into her skin and began to glow. Yasmine winced, her wrist beginning to burn, the intensity growing until she wanted to scream. She looked up to find the woman but found herself once again in complete darkness. She dropped to her knees, gripping at her wrist as the pain mounted, it was like her hand was on fire and closed her eyes tightly trying to concentrate on something else, anything else.

Yasmine sat up, a scream bubbling out of her throat as she clung to her wrist, scrambling to her feet. She nearly bumped into Shayde who was standing over her wide-eyed. “Mom! Mom are you okay? What’s wrong?” The girl shouted as Yasmine rushed from the couch to the the kitchen, turning on the sink and shoving her wrist beneath the flow of water. Yasmine gagged, clinging to the metal as the cool water began to soothe the pain.

“Gods damn it!” She spluttered, pulling her wrist out from the flow and looking at her hand. A red line had been burned into the skin around her wrist. “Fuck! What the hell?”

“Mom!” Shayde shouted.

Yasmine blinked and turned to see Shayde standing there, pale, her eyes wide. Yasmine caught her breath and turned to her daughter, rushing to her side and wrapping her arms around the girl’s head. “You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m okay, we’re okay,” She breathed, squeezing her tightly.

“Mom! You’re getting my head wet, I just dried off!” Shayde laughed, pushing her away. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Yasmine knelt in front of her daughter and looked her face over, checking every inch, not even a hair was out of place. She felt like she’d been in that place for hours. “Did you just get out of the shower?” She asked.

“Yeah, just a minute ago, you were napping, figured I’d wake you when the food got here,” She said, scratching her nose, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Yasmine let out a breath and glanced at her wrist. The pain was completely gone, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine kid, just one hell of a bad dream. Need to stop drinking before I sleep, don’t I?”

“Maybe ease up in general?” Shayde quipped.

Yasmine stood up and ruffled the girl’s hair, “Yeah I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

Shayde let out a low growl and put her hands on her hips, “Do not make me the responsible one here!” She barked. Yasmine laughed and stepped over to the wall, leaning against it and rubbing her wrist. She glanced at it again and then up at Shayde.

“Hey, if I said ‘the rebel’ would you know what I was talking about?” She asked the kid.

“Like the tarot card?” Shayde asked, frowning.

“Tarot?”

“Yeah, the Fate’s Hand Tarot, it’s pretty popular at school right now to do readings,” She said, scratching her head. “I have a deck in my room, why?”

Yasmine rolled her jaw, “What does the rebel mean?”

Shayde crossed her arms, “The Rebel could mean a lot of things, if it ends up as your persona during a draw it refers to you being the agent of change in something coming up. The rebel is an outsider who has the spirit of purpose, stands up against authority, tries to make things better by whatever means necessary. Pretty hardcore reading,” Shayde recited, “You want to see?”

Yasmine raised an eyebrow, “Sure, go get it.”

Shayde beamed and ran off to her room. Yasmine looked down at her wrist again, rubbing the burn. It was already beginning to fade into a scar. “Fatemarked,” she mumbled.

“The Fatemarked are an old story that goes with the cards,” Shayde said as she slipped back in the room, “It’s in the pamphlet that came with the cards.”

Yasmine walked over and picked up the small box, turning it over in her hands and looking down at Shayde, “Where did you get these anyway? I didn’t buy them for you.”

“I didn’t steal them!” Shayde protested, “Uncle Kurda bought them for me.”

“Uncle Kurda needs to let me know when he buys his cute niece presents,” Yasmine charged, squinting down at the girl. “Or did he tell you to tell me and you just forgot.”

Shayde blushed and looked away. Yasmine laughed and opened the box, sliding out the cards and putting them in her daughter’s hand before snatching up the pamphlet and throwing herself down on the couch. She opened it and began to read.

“The cards in this deck symbolize the fates of mortals, in ages past there were those who possessed the mark of fate, chosen by the Goddess of Fate, the Grey Witch,” Yasmine read aloud, she clicked her tongue thoughtfully and continued, “The fatemarked, often called heroes,” paused to chuckle, “were not to be confused with ‘Heroes’, not all fatemarked were bastions of good, but instead fated to push forward the hands of time and history. Some of their kind brought disaster while others delivered hope. Since the fall of the Old Empire, no Fatemarked have surfaced in our history and their stories have passed on into myth and legend.”

Yasmine closed the pamphlet and handed it back to her daughter, “Neat,” She said.

“Neat? It’s amazing that people like that existed! I was doing some reading and it said that the Fatemarked had all sorts of powers and cool-” She was cut off by a knock on the door. Yasmine reached out and ruffled her daughter’s hair before standing up.

“Let’s talk stories later, huh? It’s time to eat.”

“But they’re true stories!” Shayde protested.

“Uhuh,” Yasmine nodded placatively and smiled at her daughter, “I’m sure they are.”

That night, Yasmine lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She raised her arm and examined it, turning the mark over. At least it had finally stopped itching. She wondered if the itch had been some kind of warning. She sighed, good to know now that it was over. She glanced toward the door and her mind traveled towards Shayde. She could feel the girl’s presence, sound asleep in the other room. She smiled and looked at her wrist again. “Gods need to mind their own damn business,” She grunted and dropped her arm to her side.

She lay there for a while, restless, mulling it over until it was starting to get on her nerves. She sat up and growled marching over to a small shrine she’d set up in the corner of her room. There were several necklaces hanging from a rod on one side and a large metal goblet in the center with what looked like cinders resting at the bottom. She flipped through the various necklaces, checking the symbol at the end of each chain before snatching up one that looked like a rook sitting atop a book. She took it off the rod and hung it over the bowl before grabbing a pre-wrapped roll of charcoal and some packaged incense.

A flash of pyrokinesis later and a small cloud of sweet-smelling smoke was rising from the goblet. She rubbed her hands together and placed them on either side of the goblet, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Mighty Zera, I’ll be blank with you, I got a problem here and I think I’m in for one hell of a challenge coming up. I could really use some backup,” She grinned, “Maybe a little wisdom too. Hells, anything would help at this point,” She said with a sigh, “I get this job and then all of a sudden I’ve got this mark thing, are you guys trying to tell me something? Some clarity would be appreciated,” She paused, “Oh yeah, and thanks for always having my back big guy.”

As soon as she finished speaking the smoke vanished, curling in on itself and extinguishing the charcoal. The strangeness was followed by the sound of flapping bird wings and her tab ringing. She cocked an eyebrow in the direction of her tab, “Well, that’s new. A response.”

She walked over to her bed and threw herself onto it, grabbing her tab and answering it, “You’ve reached Yasmine O’Haire, time is money.”

There was a small laugh on the other end and a woman’s voice came through, “Sup bitch! You got time enough for an old friend?”

Yasmine kicked out her feet, “Oh my gods! Sylva! Hey babe how you doin?”

“Not bad, dad’s got me working a racket in the northeast but I told him I’d be taking some time off after I got your message,” Sylva said, “It’s a pretty big job, huh?”

“I’m pulling the whole gang back together,” Yasmine said.

“Tyler too, huh?” Sylva said a bit darkly.

Yasmine laughed, “Oh come on, put up with him for me, please?”

There was a pause followed by a sigh, “You’re lucky I love you, you skanky bitch.”

“You are the best!” Yasmine said, “Have you heard from the others?”

“Jacob’s pretty pissed at you but he’s probably going to come anyway,” Sylva said, “Tommy called me too to ask if I was joining in. Have you heard from Tabby?”

“Not yet, she’ll get back to me though,” Yasmine said, “Always does.”

“I swear if I didn’t know that girl was as straight as a laser she would be in your pants already,” Sylva laughed, “Well good, lets just hope the others show up too. It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

“Yeah, just like old times,” Yasmine said.

“Do you miss it?” Sylva asked.

“Running amok through south city and giving every government, crime syndicate, and shadow organization a right headache? Of course I do, but I get it, we all got lives to live don’t we?” She muttered, reaching up and brushing her hair away from her face.

“Some more lives than others,” Sylva said.

Yasmine’s lip twitched, “Yeah, suppose you’re right.”

“So who’s hiring us?” Sylva asked.

“Some twink named Flipp Moran,” Yasmine said.

“The hedge mage?” Sylva asked, “I heard he’s crazy and dangerous.”

“Crazy, dangerous, and loaded,” Yasmine corrected.

“Mmm… I do like crazy,” Sylva purred.

“Bruh, this guy looks like he’d pass out from a handy, don’t get any ideas, you’ll only be disappointed,” Yasmine laughed.

“Aw, seriously? That sucks, well at least he can pay for the job. Any details?” Sylva asked.

“Not over the phone, hun, let’s talk at my place tomorrow,” Yasmine said, “I gotta rest, see you soon?”

“See you soon,” Sylva said and cut the connection.

Yasmine sat up on her bed and peered toward the shrine opposite her. She smiled a little and inclined her head to the holy symbol still hanging from it. “Thanks, I needed that.”

Yasmine woke the next morning from a dreamless, easy sleep. She quickly put together a breakfast for Shayde while listening to her receiver. It was just as the music came to an end that the clock hit seven and Shayde hurried out the door, waving to her as she went. Yasmine wiped her brow and leaned against the fridge, pulling a cigarette out from her waistband and lighting it up. She took a drag and switched the station on her receiver.

Good morning SZ! It’s seven in the morning and you know what that means! Time to get a break down with ya boy Two-Son! Bonjour bitches! For y’all who don’t know already the shitstorm from the other day has all of the South-Side on lockdown!

Yasmine started to get dressed, throwing on a T-shirt with the words “FRESH HABIT” emblazoned on the front. A light pair of jeans this time and her usual boots, making sure to tuck the pant-legs in securely. She slipped her knife inside and checked the mirror before heading to her room to grab her sidearm.

The feddies are bringin’ out the big guns today, though! Watch out! Big bad Krasus Vayshe is on the scene and going from checkpoint to checkpoint. If you don’t wanna get fragged don’t piss the boy with the big britches off.

Yasmine snorted and stopped next to the shrine, gently moving the holy symbol back to the rod before turning to the rest of the room. Her eyes landed on a wanted poster that had started to yellow a little bit. She walked over and looked at the face of the girl on it. The blonde girl with the vicious sneer on her face and her middle finger high next to her face stared back at her from the paper. ‘Wanted: Christina O’Haire, Dead or Alive, Terrorism, Sorcery (Illegal use of Magic), Grand Larceny, Murder, Assassination of a Government Official.’

In other news, word has it that the Lightning Queen herself is back on the hunt. Bounties beware, the ex-head of the Rollock Avenue Fixers is one scary lady. If you aren’t lookin to get fried I suggest you lay low for a few days.

Yasmine frowned at the picture and turned away, shoving her hands into her pockets and making her way out to the living room. She was about to grab a beer when someone knocked on the door. She grumbled and moved away from the fridge, throwing the door open and coming to a sudden stop. The man standing in the door was just an inch taller than her. He had a scraggly look about him that screamed homeless but she knew better. Despite the deep-set nature of his eyes and the roughness of his coat and pants, he was one hell of a dangerous person. His sharp eyes glanced around rapidly before settling on her.

“I’m here,” He said roughly, rubbing his arm and adjusting the strap of a sports bag hanging from his shoulder.

Yasmine broke into a wide grin and pulled him into a big hug, “Tyler! Good to see you man!” She laughed, urging him to step inside. “Still afraid of the ground?”

“Low places,” He corrected her, rubbing his hands together before spotting her couch and quickly sitting down.

She glanced at the bag he was carrying, “New rifle?”

He squinted at her and grinned, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Hangs different on your shoulder. Something special?” She asked.

“Actually I just got it the other day, anti-armor calibur,” He said proudly, patting the bag, the disassembled rifle rattling a bit inside.

“Nice,” she paused, “Sylva’s coming too.”

He got to his feet, “It was good seeing you Yaz,” He grumbled, making for the door.

“Oh no you don’t,” She said, stepping in his way, “I need you for this job, deadeye, you two need to work your shit out too. I’m not going to have my people bickering over small shit.”

“But-” He began to protest and she held her hand up.

“A few bad dates is small potatoes and you know it, stop chickening out,” She said, "Now sit down before Alec shows up and takes the whole couch."

He didn’t have to be told twice, he hurried to the couch and threw himself down, leaning back into the cushion while Yasmine went to the fridge. “Beer?”

“You’re still drinking this early?” He asked.

“Shut up, round sniffer,” She shot back.

He crossed his arms and tried to frown but the small smile that accompanied it was more than enough hint that he wasn’t mad. She stepped past him and tossed a bottle of water his way. He caught it and opened it up, taking a sip. “So what kind of job is it?”

“Might be a long one depending on how the first half goes,” Yasmine said, “I’ll explain everything when everyone gets here.”

“The whole gang huh?” He asked, thumbing the bottle.

“That’s right, one big fucked up reunion,” Yasmine chuckled, cracking open her beer and taking a sip. “Excited?”

“I guess,” He shrugged, “Just hope they haven’t gotten rusty in the past five years.”

Another knock came to the door and Yasmine got to her feet, “I very much doubt that," she said and opened the door.