Masks were certainly far from unusual within the confines of the Sands of Time Club. It was a place intimately connected with the mysterious and the occult, even before one considered its connections to the community of masked adventurers and vigilantes within the world we’ve been watching.
The appearance of a woman in a mask was thus not a shocking or unexpected occurrence in general… and yet every time a woman entered the taproom wearing certain sorts of masks, particularly cowled ones and ones that covered the entire face, the entire room seemed to tense. Conversation stuttered even if it didn’t halt, and when it resumed, everyone talked louder, as if to deny the momentary tingle of fear that they had felt.
That was assuming, of course, that it was not in fact the Seeress who had come to call… an assumption that would prove to be amiss on this evening in particular, when she made an appearance in a gown of red silk, with a formless red hood draped over her head.
Those rare occasions when the mistress of the Sands descended from her chambers into the common area were not always terribly momentous, at least not outwardly. It was not that they feared her temper, though Serena the Seeress was quick to anger and terrible in her vengeance… no, men do not shudder at the sight of a raven perched upon a lonely post because they fear what the raven may do, but rather because they fear what it may portend.
The Seeress had been unusually active of late. What did it mean? No one dared to ask directly, of course. Those who were too near to her to avoid her entirely without seeming rude inclined their heads in her general direction while not looking directly at her. The red mask seemed to be particularly fateful, in its own way.
One man, of course, could not avoid addressing her… but then, the bartender of the Sands of Time had never been the sort of man who was much troubled by ravens.
“Good evening to you, my employer,” Johnny Dark said to her. She nodded at him in acknowledgment. “Is there something that I may do for you?” he asked.
“Much,” she said. “My Fire-eater has given you an invitation to an event.”
“It is as you say,” Johnny said. “I was considering whether or not I should go.”
“You will,” she said. “And you will take my Storm Raven with you.”
“As you say,” Johnny said, bowing slightly. “It is important?”
“It is essential,” the Seeress said. “Multiversal balance depends upon the meeting that will happen at that art gallery on that night.”
“Dare I ask with whom I am to be meeting?”
“Dare away,” she said. “You are meeting no one of much consequence. But what must happen will happen, with you there. Do not be dissuaded or distracted. There are forces arraying around us… the Zero Man, the Hecatean, they are all playing their petty little games while the foundation of the world burns. Only I have the foresight to stop it… to stop them if necessary.”
“As you say,” Johnny said again, trying to keep his smile fixed and pleasant.
Johnny Dark was not troubled by ravens. More so than nearly anyone else, he feared the Seeress for what she might do.
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