Disclaimer: I don't own not none of it, poor me.
This is intended to be a short series, but we will see about that. Not beta'd as I hastily wrote and posted this. So uh...be gentle.
Oh yeah, it's an American Gods cross.
Defeat was but a blades' edge away and though she had experienced and seen her share of death and violence in the thousands of years of her existence, she was finding it harder to watch as more and more of her daughters died. As the witch began her spell, a curious little flutter began in her heart, a light whisper of butterfly wings of a sensation. It changed and grew into something stronger, the tapping of fingers on wood and with it the slight twinge of pain. Now, it was the pounding of fists on drums and painful gasps for air in lungs long unused. Bright flashes of lights behind eyelids and electric shocks twitching limbs. It all crescendos to a maddening zenith of fear, pain, and excitement of feeling ending in one huge blinding flash.
For several moments there was no sound, no vision, just... Emptiness, then as if a bubble surrounding her had popped, sensation came rushing in with a whoosh. Sounds of swords clashing, cries of war and pain, yellow light of a fire and the hardness of rock. Drawing on finely honed instinct and training, she gathered her wits and stood. She saw her daughters everywhere, killing, dying, and surviving. She saw age old foes attempting to destroy what she had worked so hard to protect and felt rage and... Exhilaration. Her body thrummed with energy and power. Power long stored and accumulated. She finally noticed the weight in her hand. She looked down to see her old friend in her grasp, blood red and gleaming, blade sharpened and stake whittled to a fine point. Impotent no longer and drunk with life and ache for battle, Sineya looked up, a grin as sharp as broken glass on her lips and promises of death in her eyes, and jumped into the fray.