The Meaning of Religion

edited July 2021 in Roleplay Logs
Summary: This was done a while back, when @Teotl was still Consanguine and struggling to find a purpose to continue her path in Corruption's service. With Chakrasul's attention newly returned to Sapience, She had set a task for all of Her Chosen to re-evaluate how they serve Her Gifts. Although Teotl had already been found wanting by the Voice, Elene decided that it was worth trying herself to see if she could salvage anything out of this young Rajamala.

Colour legend:
- grey is thoughts,
- jade is Chakrasul's emotes, and
- storm-grey is Slyphe trying to peek-in.

-------------------

Teotl begins to follow you.

Teotl follows you to the north.

Drawbridge over a misty moat.
This wide bridge appears to be accommodious enough to allow a number of people to walk side-by-side, thick, iron chains framing the sides of the bridge. Small holes in the bridge itself stand as a testament to the neglect seen by this bridge, some splintered fragments of wood testifying to the obvious state of decay it has been left in. Broad bonds of sturdy iron span the width of the ground, firmly held together with heavy bolts, keeping the bridge's structure secure. Below a faint shimmer can be seen through the holes in the wood, the only sign of the trickling stream underfoot. There are 2 darkened souls here. Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve is here. The Idreth wields a blackened folding scalpel of intricate detail in their left hand and an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly in their right.
You see exits leading north and south.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across the lips of Teotl.

Stepping upon the bridge with Teotl in tow, Elene does not waste much more time, turning to step upon the drawbridge as she bring herself upon it. Spanning beneath the construction, despite the holes in the wooden furnishing, is an abyss, stretching into darkness as the chasm cleaves deeply in the side of the mountain. "You've had plenty of time to think, I believe," she speaks, her voice a silken caress as she continues her journey.

Teotl looks out over the moat, tail flicking back and forth. "I have. I appreciate your patience."

Teotl purses their lips pensively, gazing thoughtfully at some distant point.

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve asks you, "Shall I start from the very beginning? As a cub?"

Teotl tilts their head curiously.

Drifting out silently, a mass of mist slips towards the north.

Soft are the creaks of wood and chinks of metal chains as the drawbridge sways underfoot, taking on not only Elene's weight but Teotl's as a flash of argent silver fills the air, the woman turning her head slightly to watch them. Each step is firm and slow, enjoying the moment. "Please do."

Teotl shivers visibly.

Teotl sways with the bridge, finding the shift of weight beneath them oddly soothing. "I only have best guesses of who created me as a living being. I wasn't raised in a litter. I ran adjacent to the Salurian cubs. Dark furred like a rojalli."

Teotl kicks a splinter from a fragment of wood over the edge and watches it descend. "I was afraid all the time. That would be seen stealing. That I would be taken as prey outside the village. That an Atavian would hunt me down."

Quietly, Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "Fear kept me alert and alive. I survived as long as I did only thanks to fear."

Teotl bites down on their lip hard, blood beading in their fur. "None of the things I feared the most happened... but I was taken by men. Sadists with telepathic skill. They had a collection of us, slave kids or the stolen or lost that they would play with like puppets. Manipulate. Contort. Torture."

Teotl shudders violently.

Elene's withered tongue escapes from the confines of her mouth, wetting her ichored lips.

Teotl chuckles darkly, "It's how I learned to play Chess. As a puppet, someone forcing me to move as they wish."

Teotl kicks at the fragment of wood, splintering it further. "That was the deepest Despair... thinking I would never be able to enact my own will again. Just taken out and put away like a toy."

Teotl exhales slowly, allowing a long fluid breath to creep from their lungs.

Elene's eyes of snow and storm watch the darkened chasm quietly as she sways along with the drawbridge, listening to Teotl. Her chest rises and falls with soft ease, one hand rising to sweep her silvery tresses off her shoulders. "The experiences of your youth has put you in touch with the periphery of Corruption's Gifts."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "I was desperate... then one day, a cloaked figure came and offered us a Gift of strength."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "An opportunity to escape."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "I was 11 when I was made a Nightstalker."

The corners of Teotl's mouth turn up as the Idreth grins mischievously.

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve wryly says to you, "I have been on the periphery of many of Mother's Gifts since childhood."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "I ran with the kids that took the gift for many years. We indulged in our strength and freedom. We were cruel."

Her ichored lips part slightly, allowing her withered tongue to escape from its confines. It slithers out, tasting the air as she turns upon her feet, watching Teotl as she finally reaches the end of the drawbridge. Another glance from Elene is directed to the chasm she leaves behind, but a sweep of her hand indicates for Teotl to follow along.

Teotl follows you to the north.
Before the towering gates of a great citadel.

Teotl follows you to the in.
A ruined courtyard.

Rubble covers the courtyard as Elene steps from the drawbridge, the bare feet of the woman pattering exceptionally loud in the ruined courtyard. A rustle of silks erupt from her as she awaits for Teotl to join her, her attention kept upon them as she remains in relative silent, considering her next selection of words.

Teotl starts picking up small bits of rubble and chucking it absently, moving their hands while they spoke, "Cruelty was a rule of survival, then. And when we came acrosss Slaver's Isle? Playground. Weak, starving, abandoned people. Angry guards to harass. Torture devices..." they lick their lips.

Teotl just thought:
I've always been a sadist.

Teotl stretches languidly.

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve laughingly says, "And then I decided to hunt down a few slaves that escaped to Bloodloch. A mentor or two told me to join Mother's Congregation, so I did."

Her voice low, soft, and barely audible, Elene says, "So you lived, mired in the pit of Her Gifts in your youth, suffering from the torment of fear and despair, up till the moment you were offered a way out of it, to turn what has been wrought upon you back unto the world." There is a poignant pause, a crook of the head, a soft breath exhaled. "And your propensity for cruelty steeped in your strength only doubled upon Slaver's Isle."

Poignant, you say, "But it does not quite answer my question, Teotl. What does religion then mean to you?"

Teotl laughs, "I did ask if you wanted me to start at the beginning." They throw a rock and listen to the echo of its impact against a crumbling wall, "It is a way of living. It is a source of strength and endurance with an intentional philosophy. It means finding a path and following it, picking it out from paths that cross it and carrying on."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "There are many paths that I could have taken in my life, and yet every path I've walked has been blessed with Mother's Gifts."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "Religion is recognizing that and being intentional, to not just wander aimlessly."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "To find the paths that have kept me in this world and made me stronger."

"A way of living," Elene murmurs, her tongue rolling the words in her mouth slowly as she watches Teotl, taking steps towards them with purpose until she crosses personal boundaries, a hand stretched out to rest upon their closest shoulder. "A path that you chose with purpose, wrought from your past experiences. Many speak of religion as a natural inclination, another higher road to walk, an easy choice."

An ethereal butterfly of translucent jade blooms into existence, and the fluttering of its wings wafts a sickening wave of fear at you.

Teotl tenses and relaxes again at the contact, muscles rippling under fur. One ear flicks curiously, "What is religion to you?"

"You are right. Religion is identifying the philosophy of what has influenced and guided us along our existence, giving us purpose and will to move on despite the obstacles that may deter us." Elene leans forward, tilting her head as she inhales sharply as if to take a whiff of Teotl's scent, intentionally, specifically. "And so what we choose to dedicate ourselves to - religion - must therefore be one that speaks to the core of the soul, a firm belief and understanding of what we pledge to and will use, from henceforth, to walk on towards our eventual goals."

Quietly, precisely, you say, "My brand of religion requires observance, commitment, and sacrifice."

Teotl purrs, a low, rumbling sound in their chest as you takes in their scent. The close their eyes and murmur, "Observance, commitment, and sacrifice," over and over for a few moments before opening their eyes again. "I don't know what specific, distilled words I would give my brand of religion... intention, certainly..."

"Intention?" Elene questions. Her ichored lips stretch thin, mimicking a smile that she offers to Teotl, before pulling away. Her head is replaced by her hand that wanders from the shoulder upwards, dipping into the hollow of Teotl's neck before rising to circle around the cold flesh there. Eventually, slender fingers follow the line of the throat upwards, until they dwell beneath their chin. The soft scent of exotic spices erupt from the woman's waifish frame, occasionally overwhelmed by the hint of iron. "How well have you been descending for Her, Teotl?"

Elene's description:
She is an intelligent Azudim of Djeirani heritage. Possessed of a well-proportioned physique, she stands at an unassuming height of six feet. Gray-skinned and slender, she carries herself with a palpable air of agility and predacious gentility. A shimmering curtain of argent hair cascades from her high crown, ending just beneath the woman's shoulder blades. The silvery silken tresses neatly frame the woman's small face and are drawn to rest behind jade-tipped ears, though one appears ill-attached, with small stitches holding it against the side of her head. Blazing a pure white against the setting of her dark-toned skin, her luminous left eye is perched above an aristocratic nose and a pair of ichor-ridden lips, while silver lines of faint scar tissue curve artfully around the right half of the woman's features, almost invisible against the rest of her smoke-hued flesh. At intriguing odds with its heterochromatic partner, her right eye inspects her surroundings with a storm-laden gaze. Bifurcated by the slit of her ever-shifting pupil, its mere appearance is a subtle hint towards its former ownership lavished only to the most perceptive of individuals. Vague yet poignant, soft silhouettes of numerological markings scar the stretch of skin along her slim jawline, meandering downwards to cover her graceful neck. In contrastingly bold display, a brilliant image of a single golden crown shimmers from the surface of one scarred hand, a blatant emblem of dominion imprinted in sharp relief. Translucent strands of spiderweb periodically weave around her form, empowering her with Iosyne's blessing. Earth and stone cling to her form under the blessing of the Earthen Lord. Duskywing butterflies flit lazily around her as a sign of Chakrasul's blessing.

(resting elegantly upon her brow) : a stately, silver filigree circlet
(draped elegantly across her back) : a profane cloak of ambiguity
(gleaming vicariously upon her right arm) : a twining armlet of jagged, blackened platinum
(elegantly inked into one wrist) : a flickering elemental brand
(rightfully adorning her ring finger) : a corrupted band of pallid green rosebuds
(studiously slung over a shoulder) : a sturdy scholar's book bag
(snugly fitted upon her index finger) : a jewel-encrusted earthen wedding band
(worn around one wrist) : a length of jade and onyx prayer beads
(hanging elegantly from the other wrist) : an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly
(hooked into the flesh of one wrist) : macabre chains of razor glass
(worn reluctantly over her hair) : a 'lucky' lure-hooked fishing hat
(resting within the hood of her cloak) : a tiny whale swimming inside a globe
(slung neatly over a shoulder) : a stygian ritualist's satchel
(worn snugly upon a scarred finger) : a merciless band of contorted helicals
(dangling elegantly from her side) : a delicate half-mask of smoky, black nashka
(elegantly etched across one palm) : an Archivist's dath of Jherza
(draped elegantly over the shoulders) : a Rajamala-fur stole
(crystalline exteriors agleam upon ears) : a pair of onyx rose earrings
(perched behind an ill-attached ear) : a black rose
(ensnaring an ankle with its silvery chains): a repulsive anklet of canine teeth trophies
(wispy cloth draping the body) : a pale gown of snow-white


Teotl's description:
They are a powerful Idreth vampire of Rajamalan heritage, satin coal-black fur with a prismatic sheen laid sleek over the entirety of their lean and elegant frame. Their face is round and leonine, nose broad, large eyes consumed entirely by glittering emerald, features unobstructed by a mane of any sort. Their ears and tail flick occasionally, curiosity pulling gently at the edges of attention. Sharp white teeth flash against a pink tongue when they open their mouth to speak, vampiric canines adorning their smile. A cloying layer of diamond dust utterly covers them. Earth and stone cling to their form under the blessing of the Earthen Lord.

(through the navel) : a navel piercing of mountain's teeth
(worn on the ears) : an elegant, but masculine, emerald earring
(snugly adorning the tail) : a slender, stackable emerald ring
(around the neck) : a length of jade and onyx prayer beads
(worn on a finger) : a slender, stackable jade ring
(flashing from the midi of a finger) : an elemental band
(worn on the ears) : a taerzseralla-inlaid cross-ear bar earring
(worn on the feet) : ultra-high, stiletto-heeled silver leather boots


'Center. Focus. Yuef.' A memory seeks to surface, but it is forcibly pressed down. 'Yuef. Yuef. Jherza.'

Teotl swallows hard, barely smothering a small mewling sound as your hands travels up their body to rest beneath their chin. "I have been seeking every lesson along my path... I have struggled with some..." they swallow again, eyes closing and tail thrashing, "I am still nearly overwhelmed by anticipation... tipping into fear..."

"To seek is different from to comprehend," Elene's voice is low and husky, the sibilant tones coming to the forefront as she pulls her features near. Warm breath dissipates upon contact with Teotl's face, evincing just how near the Azudiim is before the mere caress of fingers transform, those appendages digging into fur and flesh around the jaw, intent on dragging them along with her with that vice grip as she stalks from the courtyard.

Teotl follows you to the north.
A dark hallway.

Teotl follows you to the west.
A dark nave.

Teotl follows you to the up.
A grotesquely beautiful chapel.
The tall, vaulted ceiling of this otherworldly chapel soars upwards to an unseen sky. Several enormous green and red crystals have been ensconced into the twisted arches supporting it, their ghostly green and malicious red glow combining to create a perturbing atmosphere. The heavy smell of incense cannot block out the distinct stench of blood that emanates from a smooth black altar set on a raised dais. Above the altar, the carving of a hooded cobra with ruby eyes rises menacingly, the sinuous lines so lifelike that at first glance it is difficult to realize that the snake is carved of obsidian. Black velvet draperies cover the walls of the chamber in a parody of luxury, and countless black candles burn in blackened steel candelabras, adding their green flames to the flickers of the gemstones far above. An ornate pedestal crafted of overlapping green moldavite stands here. A painting of the Inner Gates has been hung here. Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve is here. The Idreth wields a blackened folding scalpel of intricate detail in their left hand and an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly in their right.
You see a single exit leading down.

Teotl yelps, quickly becoming growls as they stumble along behind you, dragged by the jaw, rapidly tensing and relaxing simulating something like rapid breathing.

Teotl just thought:
I comprehend plenty, but have plenty more to learn. I've a habit of seeking more always.

Elene brings Teotl to this chapel, the rising slope of the ground allow her to ascend upwards to a moldavite pedestal, which she pauses before. Her grip is still fast around Teotl, watching the thrashing of their tail behind as she voices out her query: "Even as Chosen, we descend at our own pace, pushed to the edge of our personal abyss. Each fall into darkness, we struggle and contend with our ability to overcome the situations that the Gifts have crafted out for us."

Teotl grumbles an agreement, trying and almost succeeding to not look pouty about being dragged.

You say, "Others tease and tempt at our hearts, murmuring to our minds and ears that the religion we pursue - Corruption - merely warps what we were born as, destroying or hiding the very best of us. They tell us to turn back, to find a different path towards what we want to understand, because there are always alternatives."

Teotl just thought:
Yes... I've been to many such sermons... always the same...

Elene releases her hold upon Teotl's jaw, but simultaneously runs her fingers up to their ears, flicking those triangles of fur slowly.

You say, "And I have been told that your steps down the Spiral, steeped in our religion, are not steady. They are not pure of intent. What task in your descent plagues you so, Zorziti?"

Teotl flexes their jaw, rubbing at it with a final grumble that reluctantly transforms in to a purr at the delicate attention to their ears. "Cheating," they mumble in mock resentment about the pets, enjoying the attention a moment longer before properly considering the question. "I've declined a task that was given last week. Mother says it was not denying Her to do so, but descending for Her in the Malice that it brought about." They murmur quietly adding, "Though the tasks I have given myself are also taking longer than I would like. I am still too sensitive when I feel vulnerable. Too volatile. Defensive. Easy to manipulate."

A silky croon directly in your ears informs you, "Mother thinks that this one reads much more into actions than they ought to, but it should make them a little easier to manipulate."

A silvered peal of laughter, a flash in the depths of those yes of Elene's. She continues to lavish her attention upon Teotl's ears, mussing with the fur as she gathers her thoughts, marshalling her words as she maintains physical contact. Soft is the lush silks that wraps around the woman's frame, fluttering gently against them before she leans down, taking up a glinting blade from a moldavite pedestal for idle inspection. "Sometimes, Zorziti, there are times where you need only give in to what you feel under given circumstances."

Lightly, as her attention is focused upon the tainted dagger, you say, "And what did that task entail, Teotl?"

Smoky hues of jade erupt at the edges of your mind, teasing at your thoughts as it echoes those words that are not your own. They ring loud, guiding you, enlightening you.

Teotl purrs openly, though they curve their body awkward to avoid much contact with the silks. One ear flicks reflexively a few times against your hand as you speaks. "Which? The one I refused, or the one I have taken on?"

Keen is the edge of the tainted dagger of Corruption as Elene pays attention to it, the waft of musk and rot emanating towards Teotl. "The one refused," she answers, her voice a silken caress.

A deep, maddening sense of avarice slithers across your mind, echoes of desire and hunger through the empty passageways of thought. Yet, as the brief, phantom sensation ebbs, despair threatens to claw at the hole it leaves.

A jade haze lingers across your vision, augmenting rather than obscuring. You can almost see and taste the emotions that Teotl toys with, a counterplay to the despair that overwhelms you, and more words not your own linger within. "I am very displeased that one of Mine thinks it appropriate to cultivate relations with My Sister-" a silken snarl interrupts the words for a moment, the feral sound echoing through your mind and masking anything else for a long moment "-with the intent of keeping them."

Quietly, while gently ducking out from your hand to stand apart and watch you and the dagger properly, Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says to you, "Intentionally garner the wrath and curse of Tecpatl."

Swinging the tainted dagger of Corruption lightly in one hand, Elene does not move even as Teotl gently ducks away from her other. Her head crooks, her attention shifts, the full attention of her gaze falls upon Teotl. She's relatively calm, despite what may roil in her head. No expression features upon her face, but her ichored lips do twist upwards into what could qualify as a wry smile. Her chest rises and falls slower as she takes in deeper breaths. Only silence presides as she determines what to say.

Finally does the silken tones of Elene's voice stir, slithering through the vicinity as she expresses her thoughts: "Sacrifice. A tarnishing of a relationship in order to further your dive into the religion that has uplifted you." She shakes her head slowly, allowing her silvery tresses to cover her shoulders as she takes a single step forward, eliminating the scant distance between Teotl and her. "Religion is not an easy path to walk, for there are times where it will be challenged by such things. I spoke of observance, commitment, and sacrifice in the pursuit of it, earlier. This is what I mean."

Softly, you say, "Why do you think it was raised as a task in the first place, Zorziti?"

Teotl just thought:
That was too much for this... too much... too tense... focus...

Teotl crouches slightly into an instinctively defensive stance at the step forward, whether aware of this or not is unclear. Their tail lashes against the pedestal, eyes alert to every movement. "It was for the whim of Mother, I was told. And I sought to leave Her Order because I am too selfish to indulge a whim like that. But She did not wish for me to leave."

Dagger of Corruption:
The coiled body of an onyx hydra comprises the handle of this dagger, though the artistry that designed it cannot detract from the magnetism of the caliginous blade. The blade seems to warp the air around it, and emanates a distinctive emerald glow. The scents that seep from the immaterial blade mingle with musk, rot and infection. Its edge is discernable.
It weighs about 4 kilo(s) and 536 gram(s).
You may use the following commands with this weapon:
throw


Teotl flicks one of their ears reflexively.

Elene flicks the tainted dagger of Corruption in her hand, and the air around the weapon wraps subtly, a soft emerald glow erupting around the keen edges of the blade. She brings it close to her mouth, where her withered lips slide from. It does not wet her ichored lips this time, but wets the flat of the blade, as if savouring the scents that fills the air. "Mm," comes the soft murmur of her wordless affirmation, the woman taking another step forward to Teotl. Where the Idreth stands, only the back of the chapel resides, a moldavite pedestal wedged in between them. "Dive deeper. Why do you think it was a task from -Her-?"

Softly, you say, "You said you comprehend plenty, but there is nothing about the task that display you comprehend."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve frowns and says to you, "She is a jealous Goddess and likes to make it clear what is Hers. I said what I was -told- it was. I could speculate, but the Voice is Her Will after all."

Teotl sways back and forth.

A feral smile blossoms. Elene touches fingertips of her other hand to the dagger of Corruption, watching as the razor blade slices easily through mortal skin, sending rivulets of blood steaming down her hand. As the scent of iron now grows stronger around the woman, she takes a final step towards Teotl and speaks, "Do you see that you are justifying to yourself that you are right in the pursuit of company and understanding that Tecpatl offers, simply because the source of the religion you have pledged yourself is a jealous Goddess?"

Her voice is clear, her words soft but carrying the traces of confidence, you say, "She sees in you your wavering heart. The Rajamalan in you is comforted by what Tecpatl represents, what feelings She can elicit in you, and Her freedom in action."

Teotl inhales deeply, the scent of blood producing an almost liquid growl in response from the Rajamala, licking their lips, they reply with a husky, "I am selfish and greedy, I indulge in the company that brings me pleasure. I learn from every source without prejudice. Tecpatl taught me to differentiate between fear and anticipation. Her Singer taught me about the tension between Mother and Her Sister when no one else would. I hunger for knowledge and growth and will find the most efficient ways to it."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve wryly says, "There is a reason Mother's ranks are being purged. Am I really to blame for expanding my sources of education?"

Large hands consume yours in his grasp as he pulls you over into his embrace, breathing in your scent endlessly in one steady intake. 'It was your name. Spoken out loud in the abyss somewhere, with all the other disjointed, senseless knowledge of Aetolia in the ether.' His voice is low, a merest whisper as he confesses, 'I heard it and I opened eyes that haven't seen light in a century.'

"Every word that drips from their lips, every pitiable defense and argument they make to one of Mine, I question whether they truly wish to be Chosen. But then... you already know that, don't you, My dear Devout?" The whispers echo in your skull, rattling around like dice let loose from a cup, and a heavy sense of malice cuts under Her words, jarring you from your recollection.

As the dagger crumbles in Elene's hands, she casts the dust of the former weapon in the air, confronting Teotl with naught but her empty, scarred hands. "So do I, Teotl. I flirt with the envoys of Light and Rhythm, learning truth of their ways in their homes, walking under their protection. From them do I tease out more knowledge to sustain my hunger for more," she whispers. That feral smile remains, but something else stirs beneath those lips. There does one hand shift, moving up to trace the outlines of her stormy right eye. "And even in the depths of my misery and despair, even when the Maelstrom came to comfort me, to accept the change that it has bestowed me, I wavered none." Her hand now falls from her face now, the tinkling metal of an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly hanging from her wrist erupting from her as she addresses the heart of the issue. "What is it in your religion that you truly want, Teotl? What are you willing to give to nurture yourself in its embrace?"

You remove a tiny whale swimming inside a globe.

You start to wield Blubber, a tiny whale swimming inside a globe, in your left hand.

Retrieving a tiny whale swimming inside a globe from the nestled folds of her cloak, Elene holds it tightly in her hand, offering Teotl a glimpse. "The Maelstrom favours me as much as Tecpatl does you, but religion centers me. I know what I want," she speaks, her voice echoing before she tilts her head back, a soft groan escaping her lips as she reacts to an unheard voice that radiates powerfully within her mind.

Jade bleeds in every corner of your mind, overwhelming your thoughts and flooding your senses as the heavy sense of malice cuts deep, the invisible knife slicing mercilessly around your recollection. It forces you to concentrate, to determine, to judge. "I do," you finally respond, your answer soft. Solemn. "She does not."

Teotl wrinkles their nose, almost cutely, as they try to focus on the words spoken through the lingering scent of fresh blood. They manage well enough, attention flickering from dagger, to eye, to token. "What do I want in my religion? To thrive. To become always more myself. To strip away the influences wielded against me to warp that which I truly am. Do strengthen the core of my being. My essence."

Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve looks thoughtful and says, "To wield Mother's Gifts that they are not wielded against me accomplishes that to a great degree, I trust."

Eyelashes flutter softly, Elene blinks hard as she recovers her senses. She straightens her head, but this time she is swaying in her spot, the soft flushes of snow and storm in her eyes bleeding jade as she concentrates upon Teotl. Blood is flicked upon the ground from her sliced fingers, but they continue to drip as she eventually lunges forward, striving to corner Teotl against the wall of the grotesquely beautiful chapel. "Then why is it difficult for you to comprehend what you are asked to do? In your descent to pursue perfection in wielding Her Gifts, why are you hindering yourself by holding onto what would ultimately stop you?"

Tight is her single-handed grasp upon a tiny whale swimming inside a globe, Elene squeezing hard around the glass before she stows it away. The creature in the glassy confines simply bobs, but the whalesong that echoes from it is a sure reminder of its origins.

You cease wielding a tiny whale swimming inside a globe in your left hand.

You are now wearing a tiny whale swimming inside a globe.

Haunting strains of whalesong linger, the sound barely audible even in your mind, as though it knows it cannot take over at this time.

A soft exhalation of breath from Elene, a stirring from her spot as she steps forward, the jaded taint in her eyes all the indications that her mind is not entirely her own. A presence lurks beneath her waifish frame, slotted and hidden behind the visage of the Devout, its palpable awareness far bigger and larger than the vessel it stares out from. Just as suddenly as the Azudim moves, she stops, jerking her head to the side, her gaze sliding over to a tiny whale swimming inside a globe. Her ichored lips stretches thin, revealing more of her teeth as she feels the tug but she turns back, descending upon Teotl swiftly. Arms rise from her side, fingers plucking at unseen strings as she manipulates the skeins of creation, manipulating the song of the world just enough to entrap the passage of the Idreth before her so that she may proceed apace. "You comprehend plenty," she repeats those thoughts of Teotl's, "But you don't. You are blinded by Avarice, but do not understand how to satisfy your need while practising Her Gift."

Softly, her words imbued with a tone of finality, you say, "There is no Conquering here. You have simply given into the yoke of Corruption's Gift, and cannot emerge from it. Lady Chakrasul, are you satisfied with what I have revealed here? I have reached judgement."

Teotl just thought:
Is this not... what I have been saying... for weeks? That I am not fit?

The Dark Mother's silence draws out indefinitely, a long, heavy silence that oppresses as if it were physical. She seems to be waiting on one... more... thing.

There is no laughter being wrought here. There is no joy. There is only the cold blade of finality, the realisation of a path walked to the edges, with nothing to show for it. Elene tilts her head up to the ceiling, and she closes her eyes, inhaling sharply as she composes herself, eyelids hiding the jade glow that pours from her gaze. "Had you proven worthy, you would have been one of the Nesveti, charged to serve as Dirneti," she whispers, "Had you simply offered a faint yes, that is all the heart that you would have shown." Disappointment manifests, the woman opening her eyes as she addresses Teotl. "Speak aloud your decision now, Teotl, and prove your religion to Corruption false."

Teotl frowns in quiet embarrassment, "I... don't understand what you are asking."

Coiling around you, whispering in dulcet tones that carry an underlying ferocity, a sense of malice that cuts to the bone, you hear Her words. "If you truly believe you are not fit, Child, and you do not wish to be, leave. If you cannot judge the sacrifice worthy. If you cannot give in to what three of My Chosen have tried to teach you, what others you have sought have tried to teach you. Then go. This is your only chance to leave without My curse upon you, for if you leave now, the true waste of time was only Mine. My Chosen have learned from this, will carry the weight of it on Their shoulders. This is not a kindness. Your name will not be remembered fondly. And I will turn a blind eye to you, lest you remind Me of My preference for dealing with heretics."

Teotl crumples, shaking and sliding down the wall their back is still pressed to. They do not draw breath or blink. No artificial motions necessary only to life performed. "I'm sorry, Mother. I am grateful for what You have given me, but I am not worthy."

Teotl just thought:
I am a waste.

Teotl just thought:
Of time. Of space. I will not waste any more of Yours.

Teotl struggles to their feet, fumbling, hollow-eyed, slow.

Teotl leaves to the down.

A magnificent hallway.
Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve is here. The Idreth wields a blackened folding scalpel of intricate detail in their left hand and an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly in their right.
You see exits leading north (open pine door), northeast, southeast, and northwest.

Teotl blinks.

In a hoarse whisper, Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve says, "She would have me leave... She said..."

Simply, you say, "You have made your decision, Teotl, and so you shall initiate it with your own hands. Unto Her throne shall you return the gifts that has marked you as Hers, and upon your soul will you offer your final service. You are no Chosen."

Teotl follows you to the north.
The throne room.

Teotl drops an encaged miniature duskywing butterfly.

In a hoarse whisper, Arch Duchess Teotl Nehekhara, Kelo Viyve asks, "Upon my soul?"

Teotl follows you to the north.

The Chamber of Worship.
A large, black-marble altar rests here. A small stone altar rests here, shadows billowing around it. A painting of Lady Chakrasul is on display. A cloud of darkness floats aimlessly through the air.
You see exits leading north (open pine door) and south (open pine door).

Swift is the hand of Elene's as she directs Teotl's attention to a shadowed stone altar. "Remember well the feeling as you reject Her patronage from your being," comes the silken caress of her voice, and as she sweeps that hand up to her silvery tresses, she offers, "And as you wallow in the pain that it brings to you, kneel and submit your life and body to Her."

You say, "When you rise next, we will part ways; you will no longer be beholden to Corruption."

Teotl kneels and sets their hand upon the altar. As they bow their head, you can see shadows - like a flame - begin to engulf that hand.

The shadows creep further and further up Teotl's arm, eventually finding a way to engulf their body entirely. You can see that Teotl is in intense pain, but it seems to revel in it. Teotl's body eventually gives up and you can see their eyes close in death. A few moments later, their body turns to ashes and disperses into the surrounding air as if it were never there.
Teotl has been slain by a shadowed stone altar.
Willingly embracing the burning shadows of a shadowed stone altar, Teotl has been reduced to ashes.

Running a sharp blade over your palm, you brush your hand over a jewel-encrusted sacrificial dagger, marking it with your blood.

With her bleeding hand, Elene presses against a shadowed stone altar, sinking down in worship as she completes her service.

You settle yourself carefully on the floor before the altar, preparing to give the Dark Lady worship.

As you close your eyes and concentrate, your mind feels free and your heart runs wild - unnaturally beating within your chest. The shadows around the altar seem to swirl higher all the while.

The shadows gradually die down and you can feel the hand of the Dark Lady on your shoulder briefly, a voice stating, "Acceptance is the key, Chosen. Prayer will make you stronger." And with that, She is gone.

IesidMalcanthet
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