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In a Mind where Shadow Binds
Or, When Sterion Falls When You're Experimenting On Yourself With Shadow Already. Have a look inside the mind of a body who's been there and back again! Also features Syssins later.
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Well, I have no idea who you are, and no idea what's going on, really." A yawn spears through her words, the sound apparently inadvertent. "But if some of you lot can be sensed long after I lost my battle with mutation-sickness, then something likely bad is happening."
Knigi tells you, "33399."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Right. Guess I should prepare to die at least once, but if there is a battle going on - I probably won't be of much use."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "The more you know..."
A freezing cave
Magical darkness enshrouds this area. The cavern is womblike, an egg-shape of perfect, crystalline rock. Lighting consists of small sconces, their glass shells engraved with arcane seals. Even in the light the ceiling rises up into unknowable black, hinting at the vertigo-inducing dimensions of the catacombs. A vast dais rises from the earth, and atop it, a cold iron frame. The air seems charged with energy, conspicuously devoid of smell. An arch of cold iron arcs over the dais, intricate and beautiful in its craftsmanship. A small wooden pyramid has been left here. Glancing around with a lazy air, a large, dark blue taerilan is nearby. Rihrin is standing nearby Mahar, focused on the Archway. She wields an iron-tipped whip in her left hand and a needle-pointed dirk in her right. Knigi is here. She wields a small codex in her left hand and a buckler in her right. Pentas Tatendusk is here, shrouded. He wields a tenebrous shortsword of kagamine in his left hand and a kite shield in his right.
You see a single exit leading southwest.
This close, the arch fills your stomach with an unnatural, creeping dread, the feeling crawling up your insides to squeeze upon your heart in a choking grip.
[Just as inadvertent, the second and older voice offering with learned words:] What the fuck is that?
Rihrin's mist-eyes slip to you for a moment, a cobalt brow ticking upwards.
[Thought shifts, finally registering:] Oh. Haven't they done enough?
Knigi seems annoyed at Inkh's claim. "I mean, we kind of live here in Sapience, so like with my decision in fighting you lot, I don't feel there's much of a choice." She also pauses. "You did ask for help. Before, at the very least, and Iesid recognized that despite the fact we don't exactly get along, we need to fight this with as much as possible."
"I recognize it as well, to an extent, though people need to get some facts in order." Rihrin lets out towards Knigi, reaching up to massage her forehead for a moment, "Anyways..it's fine."
Knigi turns to the new arrivals. "The arch has been releasing intruders here for the past while, at various intervals. It recently has begun to take longer, initially starting at three hours. Now it's closer to four."
Pentas simply rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "As far as the two of us are concerned, we were asked to come stand guard. And so we shall, until we're no longer able." Waving the tip of his sword at the arch, he adds, "A mutual threat such as this should be destroyed by any means available, regardless of ideology. It threatens to take us all, and so we should all stand and fight."
Sardonic in her serenity, you say, "That's just lovely. I did think Sapience needed some more monsters to stir a Kelki from sleep."
Kagura steps down off her mount, and pats it absently on its rump as she gives a quick salute to those gathered. She turns her eyes to stare at the Arch. She turns to Knigi with a warm smile, "Thank you for the update. I was about to ask."
Knigi turns to Rihrin again, genuinely interested. "What are these facts? I like hearing all sides."
Still slightly distracted with briefing, Knigi’s ears stay trained on Rihrin. "It's been a bit over two hours since the last one."
"They will be given at the right time, when people have been spoken to that should." Rihrin says as she remains focused on Knigi, giving a smooth roll of her shoulders, "This portal is not new is one thing I'll say for now."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Haern spoke to us, helped us see what was down here, and I had to rest from the long week right after. Many people must be spoken to, while we handle our new charge here."
That's helpful. That's very helpful. [The voice is new, so is the sensation, and Taye sees no need to stopper what is merely thought.]
Greedy, short-sighted /bastards./ Won't even step up to fix anything.
Kaiara arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by a direhop bloatfish wearing a suit of armour.
You have emoted: Fingers too inky to tell apart from nighttime shadows, even in the day. They meet one another at Taye's front, clack with strange, ticking energy. She stares only at the arch.
Kagura takes out a notebook, nodding at Knigi's words with a grateful smile, and scribbles a couple of quick notes in it, then nods, "I'll be right back,"she murmurs to no one in particular.
Rihrin's eyes settle on you, commenting, "I'm a trained telepath, you know."
Kagura leaves to the southwest.
She is followed by a black rhinoceros.
[Almost like static, and the part of her that keeps her face soft and silent is just that: silent, hollow, while vague hate ticks, zips, crackles.]
Head at a tilted angle, you say to Rihrin, "Then you'll hear it loud and clear."
Her big ears droop slightly in disappointment as Knigi hears the fact that she will not be hearing more. "Ah, I see. You guys should be very, very, -very- careful. I must say I'm slightly annoyed by the fact that we are trying to be open with all information, in hopes of fixing this, while you could be holding the pieces to help solve this back."
"There is no fixing this." Rihrin says as she gestures towards the Archway.
You give a trillingly melodic laugh.
Aisling approaches on heavy steps, casting a brief glance over the gathering. She makes for Rihrin's side, her stride that of a soldier, even and measured before she settles.
Snapping attention to you, Rihrin lets out, "You think I'm kidding? That this is something to laugh about?"
Kagura arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by a black rhinoceros.
A shadow anomaly squeezes through the small pinprick in the arch, coming into Prime from Shadow without a sound.
A shadowy anomaly flickers, growing bright, tracing the shapes of the tunnel around it. Then it bursts into a whiff of vapor and glowing dust.
The final blow proves too much for a shadowy anomaly, who expires, pitifully.
Aisling has slain a shadowy anomaly.
With great determination, Knigi says, "We can at least keep it more stable, if we collaborate and try our.... Hmm."
Knigi scribbles something down.
You have emoted: "Oh, nooo." There are few that already know of the Kelki, so rarely seen in recent days; nobody to tell her her face seems strange, that her teeth seem a little too white, too noticeable - that something's creeping along the crimson flecks of her skin - shadows outside of the usual tones of Taye’s hands? "There's nothing funny about the /situation/, but it /is/ rather funny, what greed and impulse and being blind does."
"You know what, fuck it." Rihrin lets out as lips downturn, tone turning as icy as ever, "There is no fixing this. There is no closing this portal. What they Shamans of Sterion did was delay the inevitable, which is what we plan to find ways to do as well. But, this portal has been here and is not going anywhere, neither is the possibility that one day - inevitably - it will just fail. It's just a matter of time now." Then, with mist-eyes focused on you, "So no matter what we did, the result would have eventually come on its own."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Severn is in there fighting the Shadow Mother even now, but is losing. And will lose, most likely, in due course."
Aisling takes another brief look over the gathered, brow furrowed. If your taunt is bothersome, there is nothing to show for the matter, her expression unchanging from vague confusion.
Wryly, Knigi says, "I thought we were the nihilistic ones."
Shaking her head, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "This is the sort of charge we are all too familiar with in Duiran. Knowing that what we fight for might be futile, but we fight on anyways and do everything we can for it and everyone else."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "We won't take it lying down."
Knigi seems to look at Rihrin with a touch more respect at that.
Kagura's eyes are sharp as she closely watches the anomaly disappear. Then her expression turns hard and flat as her gaze travels to the spot the anomaly appeared from.
Knigi says to Aisling, "I like your dath, by the way."
[The white of her teeth expands, and her mind is hard light that is no less hollow than the flickers that had traversed her skin.] Hypocrites, backed into corners - what else can they say but 'we'll fight?'
Holding up claw-tipped digits, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "We have the fact of this state from two Divine. So we know the weight of what is going on is dire and serious."
Kaiara's gaze, having been rapt upon the on-goings moves to you, briefly studying you with mute, open distaste before returning to the arch.
Aisling rolls her shoulders, one hand coming forward to brush against Rihrin's arm, some subtle form of reassurance. "I will request cleansing from our Shaman for those who stand guard for overlong, should they wish." She supplies, her voice low and laced with a chest-deep rumbling. At Knigi's words, she bows her head, "It is not meant to be seen often."
Rihrin nods her head at Aisling.
Idly to herself, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Varyan needs to just hurry up and send Whoever He is so we mortals can stop dealing with His mistakes and messes.."
Knigi says to Aisling, "I'm small but I have an eye for details."
Knigi straightens to her majestic, two feet five inches of height, looking at Rihrin. "I am glad you know how dire it is, even if we disagree. I hope your fellows understand too."
Aisling looks over Knigi a moment longer, "Do you believe our Fury cruel?" She asks, sparing a brief glance towards the gate, "It seems there are multiple misunderstandings at play here."
A brief moment of complete silence drowns the area in an eerie melancholy.
Kaiara leaves to the southwest.
She is followed by a direhop bloatfish wearing a suit of armour.
Glancing at Knigi, Rihrin does her best to put a smile upon her thin lips, but it's not quite there, "We all do."
You have emoted: Unarmed, unwary - perhaps deceptively so - Taye turns her back, steps slowly but surely towards an arch of cold iron. Yes, it is a beautiful thing to behold. Something that must be studied to be appreciated even more. She walks like a harpooned soul, chest out and head still at an angle: it must be truly /seen/ to be understood. It's almost a surprise that her hand does not reach out, that she limits her actions to observance.
Valeria arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by an oversized toad.
Knigi grabs you. "Oy."
Rihrin steps in quickly towards you as she seems what is happening and presses a cool hand to you nearest shoulder, "Do not get any closer. This is a direct portal right into the heart of Shadow and needs to be left alone."
[Whispers unending, darkness bleeding: shadows have a pulse all their own, and all the happier they coil and whisper, closer she steps.] I hope you'll remember this day. I hope you'll remember your /mistake./
After interposing herself between you and the arch, Knigi speaks first to Aisling. "Well... considering you all frequently kidnapped me repeatedly to kill me in my own home, while I was designing jewelry, and targeted me when there were many other members of militia out and about, as soon as I stepped out of the gates... yes. It's hard to not misunderstand that, when I was the weakest member who ran more often than not." She then turns to Rihrin, silently considering the words. "Please, I beg you, make sure this is so. Please make sure you check for the Shadowplague often among all your ranks. There's no such thing as too careful."
Valeria snorts in amusement.
One of the Kobold’s ears flicks towards Valeria, but Knigi chooses to remain focused on Rihrin.
Aisling watches you, hands coming up as she adjusts the wraps upon them, uncoiling and then setting about tightening them around the knuckles. "Such is war." She says, by way of advice, "Our Fury bears no continued ill will, now that it is over - but you must strike continuously to see an enemy put to rest."
"We know and we are. We are just as concerned now about the plague, given this much exposure." Rihrin says as she lets her hand fall back, glancing at you with concern, "But please..step back. The closer you are, the worse you are going to feel. The risk of it just grabbing you and drawing you in..." She trails off, tone growing softer.
Knigi nods, agreeing with Rihrin.
Knigi says, "Another should be coming within an hour to two, heads up folks."
[Idle bits of memory, scrambled, mixed. A shard of incongruous sunlight-gold here, the seamless grey of a pot there. White, white lights, like that of a laboratory. Is it quicksilver? No; and a different tone of voice, small and clear before it fades, back into static: wasn't it supposed to be /ambient?/]
Knigi tells you, "You holding up okay? Be careful."
Kagura's attention is pulled away from her thoughtful stare at the arch as she watches those gathered. She lets out a slow breath, then settles her stance, letting her gaze drift to the arch again, as though to wait.
Rihrin seems to settle back down as she glances at Aisling for a moment. Then, gaze settles towards the Archway as it was before while hands idly tap at her sides.
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Huh?" An echo from before. Is it any different in tone? It's hard to remember, when there's so much happening: people with wills to bow, /have/ to make bow, if you must. Threats coming, like you said, within an hour or two. The bleeding of colour from the Kelki's voice is not helping matters, but at the very least what colours you catch are blurred orange, not shadowed. "Oh. I moved a bit too - right."
Devin quickly looks around the cave while picking between her fangs with one of her claws before fixing her gaze on Rihrin. "S'this where they're comin' from?"
Knigi releases her hold on the Kelki, stepping back. "This is where they're coming from. They arrive in three to four hour intervals, and it has been fluctuating lately."
Aisling's hands ease back to her sides, and then move to join at her back as she settles into what seems to be her post.
Helpfully, Aisling dur Naya says to Devin, "They die easily, so far. Just a few strikes."
Knigi says, "It helps that so many are here to fight them off too."
With a nod, Devin "Wolf" Prime says, in a feral tongue, "S'good. We tried throwin' anythin' in there?"
"It will increase, in time." However tall the rest of those are gathered here around the archway, none can quite reach the Hunter's own impressive stature. Haern stands there suddenly, dominating His surroundings like a force of nature - for that is what He is. "They will die easily until one day, they do not."
Kagura blinks.
[It's unclear what drives change. Still, she's got some time. Time is either a length, or a shred, before the hour would strike, but a shred has been won for /her,/ and the artifice of white shimmers like desert heat for one moment: just enough to have the hollow-not-hollow creature take a step back from the Archway.]
Aisling straightens somewhat, much as a soldier before a commander. "So far." She repeats, and bows her head in turn, "Hunter."
Rihrin shakes her head as she comes out of Astral thoughts, focus returning to the crowd, gradually settling on Haern. She inclines her head just slightly.
Devin dips her head down respectfully towards Haern.
Knigi dips her head respectfully to the Hunter. "So I have noticed. You helping out on other pieces we can't quite reach, I assume?"
Despite his readiness, Pentas nevertheless begins to display signs of fatigue. His shoulders begin to hang, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Despite the immense, sudden presence of the Hunter, he shows no immediate signs of surprise. However, in recognition of the Divine, he does dip his head in greeting, his face briefly obscured by the brim of his hat.
"No, He has His charge." Rihrin says towards Knigi, mist-eyes still remaining on Haern, "We take this burden."
Valeria steps back from the gathered crowd, moving to lean against the nearest cavern wall. Her honey eyes flick towards the arch with an amused expression, before settling on Haern.
Kagura turns her attention to Haern where previously she had clearly not been paying attention to the chatter. She forms a spear-hand, swinging it across her chest and striking her shoulder in a salute.
Knigi nods at this in understanding, knowing He must have His own roles, though her face shows confusion as to why He is here then. "Uh... would You like a geode?" Her default answer comes out, and she promptly shuts up.
[And settling beneath her, waiting, are the eyes of the tinged unseen and the bodiless, waiting for the portal to open its arms - waiting to see what the fully Elemental would be like, straight from the source.]
"My charge," Haern echoes with no small hint of something sardonic. Subtlety is not in Hunter. "I've only returned briefly, and then I will return to Dendara." Something in Rihrin's unblinking gaze draws the Hunter to meet it with His own fel stare before He adds, "Seems appropriate that I keep My finger on the pulse, yes Voice?"
Aisling's attention strays, briefly, towards you. She addresses the gathered Spireans, "Your friend is horribly drawn to it, do stay mindful."
Knigi says to Aisling, "I'm keeping a close monitor on them all."
Nodding her head, Rihrin speaks in icy notes towards Haern, "It is very appropriate, aye, and appreciated." Then, those unblinking eyes settle back on the Archway, cobalt brows furrowing downwards, "Though, if it'd be better for You to remain and Dendara right now, perhaps a method to reach You could be arranged?"
Aisling nods once, a sharp bob of her head.
Valeria can't help but snort in amusement at Knigi's response but she neglects to speak, instead choosing to watch the gathered crowd, a small tilt of her head as Rihrin speaks.
Settling back on her haunches, head tilted to the side slightly, Devin stares silently at the Archway for a few moments. With a grunt, she turns her attention back to the crowd.
Rihrin's mist-eyes shift towards Aisling and nods her head, "Though, seems I have another, so it should be fine."
Knigi scribbles in her notes, still checking the time, small shapes of purple floating from her paw, quickly dissipating, mouth moving silently, still slightly red under her fur.
A shadow anomaly squeezes through the small pinprick in the arch, coming into Prime from Shadow without a sound.
A shadowy anomaly flickers, growing bright, tracing the shapes of the tunnel around it. Then it bursts into a whiff of vapor and glowing dust.
A shadowy anomaly stiffens and drops dead as the venom proves too much for its system.
Rihrin has slain a shadowy anomaly.
Softly, Knigi says, "Three hours, forty something minutes."
Rihrin nods her head at Knigi.
"Mine know how to reach Me within Dendara," Haern confirms, though Aisling's warning seems to snag what attention the Hunter has left for Rihrin. His great brow furrows, focusing on something transpiring between the archway - the Shadow there - and you. Deciding something in that brief moment, the Hunter reaches out, snatching you up with one hand and dragging the woman towards Him as steel flashes in His hand.
[Clashing voices, and nothing but:] we should have waited / Too /godsdamned/ quick.
Drawn by Aisling's concern, the Hunter reaches out towards you suddenly, yanking you suddenly closer as a grim looking blade springs into His hand.
You have been slain by misadventure.
The Hall of the Underking
You find yourself in a large, open hall. So large, you soon realize, that you cannot actually see any walls no matter how far into the distance you attempt to focus. The floor is of a milky-white stone or marble, marvelously engraved with tiny patterns, runes, figures, all interlocking and interacting with one another and seeming to depict an ancient, mystical story which you despair at being unable to comprehend. Occasional silky curtains and ornate tapestries hang from milky-white pillars which span the gap between floor to ceiling every few dozen yards or so. You are peripherally aware of thousands of people all around you, the dim cacophony of their voices lapping against your consciousness like a sea of whispers, but when you attempt to focus on any individual, their perception slips away from you and you see no one there. Before you on a raised dais rests a huge, oval mirror bordered in the same ornately-carved alabaster. Without knowing how, you are aware that this mirror is the gateway to the mortal realm. The Soul Mirror looms forbiddingly, smoke rising from the bound-wound across its surface.
You see exits leading east, north, south, and west.
You move forward toward the giant mirror, marveling at its size and flat, reflective surface. Smoke streams from a partially healed wound along its expanse and, strangely, you can see nothing reflected in the mirror, but it may be some trick of the light from this angle.
Ascending the polished, white stone steps of the dais, you draw closer to the grand mirror. The alabaster stone framing its glassy surface bears an array of incredibly intricate runic engraving, so intertwined that the entire surface of the stone could be one huge rune. As you move closer, you notice even finer details carved into the stone, almost impossibly tiny patterns decorating every space in the fine runework.
You reach the top of the dais and gaze into the mirror itself. What you see there makes you tremble involuntarily and your knees go weak. The image in the mirror is You. Not your outward physical appearance, but the true you, your inner being. Every secret thought, every hope, every hate, every conviction you hold and every lie you tell yourself is reflected back in the near-perfect surface of the mirror.
It is now dawn on Tisday, the 5th of Niuran, year 503 of the Midnight Age.
Slowly, methodically, the mirror shows you every facet of your psyche. You cannot help but weep as your secret fears and insecurities appear, plainly and without fanfare, in the mirror's face before you. Long-buried nightmares and worries you had concealed even from yourself boil back up from the recesses of your mind to be presented in this accursed mirror.
The images in the mirror shift now, and you experience a hopeful feeling as it begins rendering your dreams and aspirations as visions on its surface. All your hopes and goals, from silly and inconsequential to grand and world-changing, dance across the mirror. You realize, though, that you are dead - and the hopeful feeling yields to a moment of cold dread, a terror that your dreams for the future may never see fruition.
Your sense of dread fades as quickly as it arrived, as the mirror flickers again and you are shown those aspects of your psyche that you find most admirable. Relationships with your few close companions, the way you handle conflicts, and your adherence to your inner beliefs all take form in the mirror's mystical montage. You smile inwardly, encouraged by the acknowledgement of these qualities.
The mirror flashes suddenly, the highlighted remnant of its patched wound startling you from your reverie. Now the visions depict a story, that of the new life of a newborn infant. You recognize a prominent figure in the rapid succession of scenes as your mother, and the infant, of course, is you. Something tugs at your mind with this recollection, a question bubbling - is this your most recent life, or another, in a long series of journeys by your own self-same soul?
You watch your early childhood replayed rapidly in scenes, images, and visually-portrayed emotions. Soon, fragments of the story trigger your early memories as you recognize childhood places and events. You watch, entranced, as your childhood plays out before you, remembering all its joys and sorrows long forgotten.
The montage continues, telling the story of your adolescent years. You smile wryly, observing your own teenage foibles and insecurities from an adult perspective. The years continue past, every significant event and choice that shaped your youthful Self portrayed plainly, their significance only now made apparent to you.
Now the path of your adult life plays out before you, from the bold and naive days of your eighteenth year. The story is utterly complete, with no significant action or event omitted, no matter how secret or neglected your actual memories. You feel totally exposed, without refuge or excuse from your own past.
The mirror flashes again, this time more brilliantly, and becomes alive with an impossibly chaotic maelstrom of color, and though you know not how, smells, tastes, sounds and feelings. You are totally awestruck, unable to look away yet unable to process this raw overload of sensory information. Terror overtakes you, and you struggle to maintain your most basic sanity.
Suddenly, you understand. There is a pattern to the seemingly chaotic sensory cacophony, and you comprehend it at last. As if the final clue of a riddle falls into place, you suddenly recognize that the mirror is showing you the true form of the Creator of All, Varian, the Celestine.
Raw humility overwhelms you as you fully understand your utter insignificance in the presence of the Absolute Divine Creator. Wanting only to fall to your knees, your awe is so overpowering that you can only stand there and weep in mute supplication, though a nagging, inexplicable feeling of unease gnaws faintly at your mind.
A Voice fills your mind, echoing in the farthest recesses of your consciousness, "Know that I know You. Know that you are a part of Me, and that My Will is yours. Know that your story is My story, for you are of Me. Know too that your story is not yet complete." And with that, the mirror abruptly goes blank, its polished surface reflecting nothing at all. You collapse, with relief and with joy, for you know now that your Creator wills you to live again. Exhausted, your consciousness rapidly slides away...
When you regain consciousness, you are confused about where you are and how you got here. Darkness surrounds you, save for a single candle. A look around tells you that you are in a rough cave, with a single table bearing the candle. An entrance, visible because it is slightly lighter than the rest of the shadow, beckons from across the cave.
Within the Cave.
The interior of this cave is rather large and has a mystical energy permeating through the air. A tall ceiling spans upwards in a roundish fashion, while the ground beneath is firm, ebony soil. Lively saplings sprout from the fertile earth, while a tranquil silence blesses this cave. It seems impossible to travel further into the cave, instead several monolithic gateways line the edge of the cave, leading into the unknown. A helpful sign floats here, begging to be read! READ SIGN to view it. Chiseled with runic symbols, an ancient pylon of weathered stone has been buried deep into the earth here and glows with restrained power.
You see exits leading east, north, northeast, south, and southeast.
You have emoted: But why? One could ask. Why let Taye come back? Why let a potential agent of Ohlsana back? One could ask why, forever, until one recalls that the Mirror has nothing to show but an image woven long before, perhaps no true will woven there save for Creation and Life's need for continued existence.
[Unwoven, not just yet reformed. She does not even know if the din inside her mind, which had been inside her head, her chest, the hollow inside her fingertips, everywhere, is truly gone.]
You have emoted: Taye can only stand there - or is it lie there? And as she is living, she breathes, and the fragmented mind flees to find an anchor in what had come before.
[Golden light. Golden light had come to save her. It had drawn her out, back into the pot where the mutagen was held - but wait, that /isn't/ her.]
Holbrook?
[The pot had been sitting on the bedspread - no, it had not. He'd put it on the floor. The pot had held harmless quicksilver - no, it had not. And they were only trying, in their own way, to make things better.]
Your pose is now set as:
Taye sits on the floor of the Cave, head lolling, eyes shut, breathing.
You have emoted: It is autumn. It will be cold soon. The Kelki lifts faintly trembling hands, firefly eyes now obscured by powder-blue skin, and her fingertips sink into her arms first, and when the pads of them push in, they leave no inky smudges behind. Would Taye need to search within herself again? Would it take more blades? And the most pressing query: Was her Gleaner /all right?/
[And it is that one question that finally draws the shivering Kelki to her feet, and the single directive is not formed in a structured tongue.]
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Well, I have no idea who you are, and no idea what's going on, really." A yawn spears through her words, the sound apparently inadvertent. "But if some of you lot can be sensed long after I lost my battle with mutation-sickness, then something likely bad is happening."
Knigi tells you, "33399."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Right. Guess I should prepare to die at least once, but if there is a battle going on - I probably won't be of much use."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "The more you know..."
A freezing cave
Magical darkness enshrouds this area. The cavern is womblike, an egg-shape of perfect, crystalline rock. Lighting consists of small sconces, their glass shells engraved with arcane seals. Even in the light the ceiling rises up into unknowable black, hinting at the vertigo-inducing dimensions of the catacombs. A vast dais rises from the earth, and atop it, a cold iron frame. The air seems charged with energy, conspicuously devoid of smell. An arch of cold iron arcs over the dais, intricate and beautiful in its craftsmanship. A small wooden pyramid has been left here. Glancing around with a lazy air, a large, dark blue taerilan is nearby. Rihrin is standing nearby Mahar, focused on the Archway. She wields an iron-tipped whip in her left hand and a needle-pointed dirk in her right. Knigi is here. She wields a small codex in her left hand and a buckler in her right. Pentas Tatendusk is here, shrouded. He wields a tenebrous shortsword of kagamine in his left hand and a kite shield in his right.
You see a single exit leading southwest.
This close, the arch fills your stomach with an unnatural, creeping dread, the feeling crawling up your insides to squeeze upon your heart in a choking grip.
[Just as inadvertent, the second and older voice offering with learned words:] What the fuck is that?
Rihrin's mist-eyes slip to you for a moment, a cobalt brow ticking upwards.
[Thought shifts, finally registering:] Oh. Haven't they done enough?
Knigi seems annoyed at Inkh's claim. "I mean, we kind of live here in Sapience, so like with my decision in fighting you lot, I don't feel there's much of a choice." She also pauses. "You did ask for help. Before, at the very least, and Iesid recognized that despite the fact we don't exactly get along, we need to fight this with as much as possible."
"I recognize it as well, to an extent, though people need to get some facts in order." Rihrin lets out towards Knigi, reaching up to massage her forehead for a moment, "Anyways..it's fine."
Knigi turns to the new arrivals. "The arch has been releasing intruders here for the past while, at various intervals. It recently has begun to take longer, initially starting at three hours. Now it's closer to four."
Pentas simply rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "As far as the two of us are concerned, we were asked to come stand guard. And so we shall, until we're no longer able." Waving the tip of his sword at the arch, he adds, "A mutual threat such as this should be destroyed by any means available, regardless of ideology. It threatens to take us all, and so we should all stand and fight."
Sardonic in her serenity, you say, "That's just lovely. I did think Sapience needed some more monsters to stir a Kelki from sleep."
Kagura steps down off her mount, and pats it absently on its rump as she gives a quick salute to those gathered. She turns her eyes to stare at the Arch. She turns to Knigi with a warm smile, "Thank you for the update. I was about to ask."
Knigi turns to Rihrin again, genuinely interested. "What are these facts? I like hearing all sides."
Still slightly distracted with briefing, Knigi’s ears stay trained on Rihrin. "It's been a bit over two hours since the last one."
"They will be given at the right time, when people have been spoken to that should." Rihrin says as she remains focused on Knigi, giving a smooth roll of her shoulders, "This portal is not new is one thing I'll say for now."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Haern spoke to us, helped us see what was down here, and I had to rest from the long week right after. Many people must be spoken to, while we handle our new charge here."
That's helpful. That's very helpful. [The voice is new, so is the sensation, and Taye sees no need to stopper what is merely thought.]
Greedy, short-sighted /bastards./ Won't even step up to fix anything.
Kaiara arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by a direhop bloatfish wearing a suit of armour.
You have emoted: Fingers too inky to tell apart from nighttime shadows, even in the day. They meet one another at Taye's front, clack with strange, ticking energy. She stares only at the arch.
Kagura takes out a notebook, nodding at Knigi's words with a grateful smile, and scribbles a couple of quick notes in it, then nods, "I'll be right back,"she murmurs to no one in particular.
Rihrin's eyes settle on you, commenting, "I'm a trained telepath, you know."
Kagura leaves to the southwest.
She is followed by a black rhinoceros.
[Almost like static, and the part of her that keeps her face soft and silent is just that: silent, hollow, while vague hate ticks, zips, crackles.]
Head at a tilted angle, you say to Rihrin, "Then you'll hear it loud and clear."
Her big ears droop slightly in disappointment as Knigi hears the fact that she will not be hearing more. "Ah, I see. You guys should be very, very, -very- careful. I must say I'm slightly annoyed by the fact that we are trying to be open with all information, in hopes of fixing this, while you could be holding the pieces to help solve this back."
"There is no fixing this." Rihrin says as she gestures towards the Archway.
You give a trillingly melodic laugh.
Aisling approaches on heavy steps, casting a brief glance over the gathering. She makes for Rihrin's side, her stride that of a soldier, even and measured before she settles.
Snapping attention to you, Rihrin lets out, "You think I'm kidding? That this is something to laugh about?"
Kagura arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by a black rhinoceros.
A shadow anomaly squeezes through the small pinprick in the arch, coming into Prime from Shadow without a sound.
A shadowy anomaly flickers, growing bright, tracing the shapes of the tunnel around it. Then it bursts into a whiff of vapor and glowing dust.
The final blow proves too much for a shadowy anomaly, who expires, pitifully.
Aisling has slain a shadowy anomaly.
With great determination, Knigi says, "We can at least keep it more stable, if we collaborate and try our.... Hmm."
Knigi scribbles something down.
You have emoted: "Oh, nooo." There are few that already know of the Kelki, so rarely seen in recent days; nobody to tell her her face seems strange, that her teeth seem a little too white, too noticeable - that something's creeping along the crimson flecks of her skin - shadows outside of the usual tones of Taye’s hands? "There's nothing funny about the /situation/, but it /is/ rather funny, what greed and impulse and being blind does."
"You know what, fuck it." Rihrin lets out as lips downturn, tone turning as icy as ever, "There is no fixing this. There is no closing this portal. What they Shamans of Sterion did was delay the inevitable, which is what we plan to find ways to do as well. But, this portal has been here and is not going anywhere, neither is the possibility that one day - inevitably - it will just fail. It's just a matter of time now." Then, with mist-eyes focused on you, "So no matter what we did, the result would have eventually come on its own."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Severn is in there fighting the Shadow Mother even now, but is losing. And will lose, most likely, in due course."
Aisling takes another brief look over the gathered, brow furrowed. If your taunt is bothersome, there is nothing to show for the matter, her expression unchanging from vague confusion.
Wryly, Knigi says, "I thought we were the nihilistic ones."
Shaking her head, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "This is the sort of charge we are all too familiar with in Duiran. Knowing that what we fight for might be futile, but we fight on anyways and do everything we can for it and everyone else."
Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "We won't take it lying down."
Knigi seems to look at Rihrin with a touch more respect at that.
Kagura's eyes are sharp as she closely watches the anomaly disappear. Then her expression turns hard and flat as her gaze travels to the spot the anomaly appeared from.
Knigi says to Aisling, "I like your dath, by the way."
[The white of her teeth expands, and her mind is hard light that is no less hollow than the flickers that had traversed her skin.] Hypocrites, backed into corners - what else can they say but 'we'll fight?'
Holding up claw-tipped digits, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "We have the fact of this state from two Divine. So we know the weight of what is going on is dire and serious."
Kaiara's gaze, having been rapt upon the on-goings moves to you, briefly studying you with mute, open distaste before returning to the arch.
Aisling rolls her shoulders, one hand coming forward to brush against Rihrin's arm, some subtle form of reassurance. "I will request cleansing from our Shaman for those who stand guard for overlong, should they wish." She supplies, her voice low and laced with a chest-deep rumbling. At Knigi's words, she bows her head, "It is not meant to be seen often."
Rihrin nods her head at Aisling.
Idly to herself, Lady Rihrin of Sapphire says, "Varyan needs to just hurry up and send Whoever He is so we mortals can stop dealing with His mistakes and messes.."
Knigi says to Aisling, "I'm small but I have an eye for details."
Knigi straightens to her majestic, two feet five inches of height, looking at Rihrin. "I am glad you know how dire it is, even if we disagree. I hope your fellows understand too."
Aisling looks over Knigi a moment longer, "Do you believe our Fury cruel?" She asks, sparing a brief glance towards the gate, "It seems there are multiple misunderstandings at play here."
A brief moment of complete silence drowns the area in an eerie melancholy.
Kaiara leaves to the southwest.
She is followed by a direhop bloatfish wearing a suit of armour.
Glancing at Knigi, Rihrin does her best to put a smile upon her thin lips, but it's not quite there, "We all do."
You have emoted: Unarmed, unwary - perhaps deceptively so - Taye turns her back, steps slowly but surely towards an arch of cold iron. Yes, it is a beautiful thing to behold. Something that must be studied to be appreciated even more. She walks like a harpooned soul, chest out and head still at an angle: it must be truly /seen/ to be understood. It's almost a surprise that her hand does not reach out, that she limits her actions to observance.
Valeria arrives from the southwest.
She is followed by an oversized toad.
Knigi grabs you. "Oy."
Rihrin steps in quickly towards you as she seems what is happening and presses a cool hand to you nearest shoulder, "Do not get any closer. This is a direct portal right into the heart of Shadow and needs to be left alone."
[Whispers unending, darkness bleeding: shadows have a pulse all their own, and all the happier they coil and whisper, closer she steps.] I hope you'll remember this day. I hope you'll remember your /mistake./
After interposing herself between you and the arch, Knigi speaks first to Aisling. "Well... considering you all frequently kidnapped me repeatedly to kill me in my own home, while I was designing jewelry, and targeted me when there were many other members of militia out and about, as soon as I stepped out of the gates... yes. It's hard to not misunderstand that, when I was the weakest member who ran more often than not." She then turns to Rihrin, silently considering the words. "Please, I beg you, make sure this is so. Please make sure you check for the Shadowplague often among all your ranks. There's no such thing as too careful."
Valeria snorts in amusement.
One of the Kobold’s ears flicks towards Valeria, but Knigi chooses to remain focused on Rihrin.
Aisling watches you, hands coming up as she adjusts the wraps upon them, uncoiling and then setting about tightening them around the knuckles. "Such is war." She says, by way of advice, "Our Fury bears no continued ill will, now that it is over - but you must strike continuously to see an enemy put to rest."
"We know and we are. We are just as concerned now about the plague, given this much exposure." Rihrin says as she lets her hand fall back, glancing at you with concern, "But please..step back. The closer you are, the worse you are going to feel. The risk of it just grabbing you and drawing you in..." She trails off, tone growing softer.
Knigi nods, agreeing with Rihrin.
Knigi says, "Another should be coming within an hour to two, heads up folks."
[Idle bits of memory, scrambled, mixed. A shard of incongruous sunlight-gold here, the seamless grey of a pot there. White, white lights, like that of a laboratory. Is it quicksilver? No; and a different tone of voice, small and clear before it fades, back into static: wasn't it supposed to be /ambient?/]
Knigi tells you, "You holding up okay? Be careful."
Kagura's attention is pulled away from her thoughtful stare at the arch as she watches those gathered. She lets out a slow breath, then settles her stance, letting her gaze drift to the arch again, as though to wait.
Rihrin seems to settle back down as she glances at Aisling for a moment. Then, gaze settles towards the Archway as it was before while hands idly tap at her sides.
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Knigi, "Huh?" An echo from before. Is it any different in tone? It's hard to remember, when there's so much happening: people with wills to bow, /have/ to make bow, if you must. Threats coming, like you said, within an hour or two. The bleeding of colour from the Kelki's voice is not helping matters, but at the very least what colours you catch are blurred orange, not shadowed. "Oh. I moved a bit too - right."
Devin quickly looks around the cave while picking between her fangs with one of her claws before fixing her gaze on Rihrin. "S'this where they're comin' from?"
Knigi releases her hold on the Kelki, stepping back. "This is where they're coming from. They arrive in three to four hour intervals, and it has been fluctuating lately."
Aisling's hands ease back to her sides, and then move to join at her back as she settles into what seems to be her post.
Helpfully, Aisling dur Naya says to Devin, "They die easily, so far. Just a few strikes."
Knigi says, "It helps that so many are here to fight them off too."
With a nod, Devin "Wolf" Prime says, in a feral tongue, "S'good. We tried throwin' anythin' in there?"
"It will increase, in time." However tall the rest of those are gathered here around the archway, none can quite reach the Hunter's own impressive stature. Haern stands there suddenly, dominating His surroundings like a force of nature - for that is what He is. "They will die easily until one day, they do not."
Kagura blinks.
[It's unclear what drives change. Still, she's got some time. Time is either a length, or a shred, before the hour would strike, but a shred has been won for /her,/ and the artifice of white shimmers like desert heat for one moment: just enough to have the hollow-not-hollow creature take a step back from the Archway.]
Aisling straightens somewhat, much as a soldier before a commander. "So far." She repeats, and bows her head in turn, "Hunter."
Rihrin shakes her head as she comes out of Astral thoughts, focus returning to the crowd, gradually settling on Haern. She inclines her head just slightly.
Devin dips her head down respectfully towards Haern.
Knigi dips her head respectfully to the Hunter. "So I have noticed. You helping out on other pieces we can't quite reach, I assume?"
Despite his readiness, Pentas nevertheless begins to display signs of fatigue. His shoulders begin to hang, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Despite the immense, sudden presence of the Hunter, he shows no immediate signs of surprise. However, in recognition of the Divine, he does dip his head in greeting, his face briefly obscured by the brim of his hat.
"No, He has His charge." Rihrin says towards Knigi, mist-eyes still remaining on Haern, "We take this burden."
Valeria steps back from the gathered crowd, moving to lean against the nearest cavern wall. Her honey eyes flick towards the arch with an amused expression, before settling on Haern.
Kagura turns her attention to Haern where previously she had clearly not been paying attention to the chatter. She forms a spear-hand, swinging it across her chest and striking her shoulder in a salute.
Knigi nods at this in understanding, knowing He must have His own roles, though her face shows confusion as to why He is here then. "Uh... would You like a geode?" Her default answer comes out, and she promptly shuts up.
[And settling beneath her, waiting, are the eyes of the tinged unseen and the bodiless, waiting for the portal to open its arms - waiting to see what the fully Elemental would be like, straight from the source.]
"My charge," Haern echoes with no small hint of something sardonic. Subtlety is not in Hunter. "I've only returned briefly, and then I will return to Dendara." Something in Rihrin's unblinking gaze draws the Hunter to meet it with His own fel stare before He adds, "Seems appropriate that I keep My finger on the pulse, yes Voice?"
Aisling's attention strays, briefly, towards you. She addresses the gathered Spireans, "Your friend is horribly drawn to it, do stay mindful."
Knigi says to Aisling, "I'm keeping a close monitor on them all."
Nodding her head, Rihrin speaks in icy notes towards Haern, "It is very appropriate, aye, and appreciated." Then, those unblinking eyes settle back on the Archway, cobalt brows furrowing downwards, "Though, if it'd be better for You to remain and Dendara right now, perhaps a method to reach You could be arranged?"
Aisling nods once, a sharp bob of her head.
Valeria can't help but snort in amusement at Knigi's response but she neglects to speak, instead choosing to watch the gathered crowd, a small tilt of her head as Rihrin speaks.
Settling back on her haunches, head tilted to the side slightly, Devin stares silently at the Archway for a few moments. With a grunt, she turns her attention back to the crowd.
Rihrin's mist-eyes shift towards Aisling and nods her head, "Though, seems I have another, so it should be fine."
Knigi scribbles in her notes, still checking the time, small shapes of purple floating from her paw, quickly dissipating, mouth moving silently, still slightly red under her fur.
A shadow anomaly squeezes through the small pinprick in the arch, coming into Prime from Shadow without a sound.
A shadowy anomaly flickers, growing bright, tracing the shapes of the tunnel around it. Then it bursts into a whiff of vapor and glowing dust.
A shadowy anomaly stiffens and drops dead as the venom proves too much for its system.
Rihrin has slain a shadowy anomaly.
Softly, Knigi says, "Three hours, forty something minutes."
Rihrin nods her head at Knigi.
"Mine know how to reach Me within Dendara," Haern confirms, though Aisling's warning seems to snag what attention the Hunter has left for Rihrin. His great brow furrows, focusing on something transpiring between the archway - the Shadow there - and you. Deciding something in that brief moment, the Hunter reaches out, snatching you up with one hand and dragging the woman towards Him as steel flashes in His hand.
[Clashing voices, and nothing but:] we should have waited / Too /godsdamned/ quick.
Drawn by Aisling's concern, the Hunter reaches out towards you suddenly, yanking you suddenly closer as a grim looking blade springs into His hand.
You have been slain by misadventure.
The Hall of the Underking
You find yourself in a large, open hall. So large, you soon realize, that you cannot actually see any walls no matter how far into the distance you attempt to focus. The floor is of a milky-white stone or marble, marvelously engraved with tiny patterns, runes, figures, all interlocking and interacting with one another and seeming to depict an ancient, mystical story which you despair at being unable to comprehend. Occasional silky curtains and ornate tapestries hang from milky-white pillars which span the gap between floor to ceiling every few dozen yards or so. You are peripherally aware of thousands of people all around you, the dim cacophony of their voices lapping against your consciousness like a sea of whispers, but when you attempt to focus on any individual, their perception slips away from you and you see no one there. Before you on a raised dais rests a huge, oval mirror bordered in the same ornately-carved alabaster. Without knowing how, you are aware that this mirror is the gateway to the mortal realm. The Soul Mirror looms forbiddingly, smoke rising from the bound-wound across its surface.
You see exits leading east, north, south, and west.
You move forward toward the giant mirror, marveling at its size and flat, reflective surface. Smoke streams from a partially healed wound along its expanse and, strangely, you can see nothing reflected in the mirror, but it may be some trick of the light from this angle.
Ascending the polished, white stone steps of the dais, you draw closer to the grand mirror. The alabaster stone framing its glassy surface bears an array of incredibly intricate runic engraving, so intertwined that the entire surface of the stone could be one huge rune. As you move closer, you notice even finer details carved into the stone, almost impossibly tiny patterns decorating every space in the fine runework.
You reach the top of the dais and gaze into the mirror itself. What you see there makes you tremble involuntarily and your knees go weak. The image in the mirror is You. Not your outward physical appearance, but the true you, your inner being. Every secret thought, every hope, every hate, every conviction you hold and every lie you tell yourself is reflected back in the near-perfect surface of the mirror.
It is now dawn on Tisday, the 5th of Niuran, year 503 of the Midnight Age.
Slowly, methodically, the mirror shows you every facet of your psyche. You cannot help but weep as your secret fears and insecurities appear, plainly and without fanfare, in the mirror's face before you. Long-buried nightmares and worries you had concealed even from yourself boil back up from the recesses of your mind to be presented in this accursed mirror.
The images in the mirror shift now, and you experience a hopeful feeling as it begins rendering your dreams and aspirations as visions on its surface. All your hopes and goals, from silly and inconsequential to grand and world-changing, dance across the mirror. You realize, though, that you are dead - and the hopeful feeling yields to a moment of cold dread, a terror that your dreams for the future may never see fruition.
Your sense of dread fades as quickly as it arrived, as the mirror flickers again and you are shown those aspects of your psyche that you find most admirable. Relationships with your few close companions, the way you handle conflicts, and your adherence to your inner beliefs all take form in the mirror's mystical montage. You smile inwardly, encouraged by the acknowledgement of these qualities.
The mirror flashes suddenly, the highlighted remnant of its patched wound startling you from your reverie. Now the visions depict a story, that of the new life of a newborn infant. You recognize a prominent figure in the rapid succession of scenes as your mother, and the infant, of course, is you. Something tugs at your mind with this recollection, a question bubbling - is this your most recent life, or another, in a long series of journeys by your own self-same soul?
You watch your early childhood replayed rapidly in scenes, images, and visually-portrayed emotions. Soon, fragments of the story trigger your early memories as you recognize childhood places and events. You watch, entranced, as your childhood plays out before you, remembering all its joys and sorrows long forgotten.
The montage continues, telling the story of your adolescent years. You smile wryly, observing your own teenage foibles and insecurities from an adult perspective. The years continue past, every significant event and choice that shaped your youthful Self portrayed plainly, their significance only now made apparent to you.
Now the path of your adult life plays out before you, from the bold and naive days of your eighteenth year. The story is utterly complete, with no significant action or event omitted, no matter how secret or neglected your actual memories. You feel totally exposed, without refuge or excuse from your own past.
The mirror flashes again, this time more brilliantly, and becomes alive with an impossibly chaotic maelstrom of color, and though you know not how, smells, tastes, sounds and feelings. You are totally awestruck, unable to look away yet unable to process this raw overload of sensory information. Terror overtakes you, and you struggle to maintain your most basic sanity.
Suddenly, you understand. There is a pattern to the seemingly chaotic sensory cacophony, and you comprehend it at last. As if the final clue of a riddle falls into place, you suddenly recognize that the mirror is showing you the true form of the Creator of All, Varian, the Celestine.
Raw humility overwhelms you as you fully understand your utter insignificance in the presence of the Absolute Divine Creator. Wanting only to fall to your knees, your awe is so overpowering that you can only stand there and weep in mute supplication, though a nagging, inexplicable feeling of unease gnaws faintly at your mind.
A Voice fills your mind, echoing in the farthest recesses of your consciousness, "Know that I know You. Know that you are a part of Me, and that My Will is yours. Know that your story is My story, for you are of Me. Know too that your story is not yet complete." And with that, the mirror abruptly goes blank, its polished surface reflecting nothing at all. You collapse, with relief and with joy, for you know now that your Creator wills you to live again. Exhausted, your consciousness rapidly slides away...
When you regain consciousness, you are confused about where you are and how you got here. Darkness surrounds you, save for a single candle. A look around tells you that you are in a rough cave, with a single table bearing the candle. An entrance, visible because it is slightly lighter than the rest of the shadow, beckons from across the cave.
Within the Cave.
The interior of this cave is rather large and has a mystical energy permeating through the air. A tall ceiling spans upwards in a roundish fashion, while the ground beneath is firm, ebony soil. Lively saplings sprout from the fertile earth, while a tranquil silence blesses this cave. It seems impossible to travel further into the cave, instead several monolithic gateways line the edge of the cave, leading into the unknown. A helpful sign floats here, begging to be read! READ SIGN to view it. Chiseled with runic symbols, an ancient pylon of weathered stone has been buried deep into the earth here and glows with restrained power.
You see exits leading east, north, northeast, south, and southeast.
You have emoted: But why? One could ask. Why let Taye come back? Why let a potential agent of Ohlsana back? One could ask why, forever, until one recalls that the Mirror has nothing to show but an image woven long before, perhaps no true will woven there save for Creation and Life's need for continued existence.
[Unwoven, not just yet reformed. She does not even know if the din inside her mind, which had been inside her head, her chest, the hollow inside her fingertips, everywhere, is truly gone.]
You have emoted: Taye can only stand there - or is it lie there? And as she is living, she breathes, and the fragmented mind flees to find an anchor in what had come before.
[Golden light. Golden light had come to save her. It had drawn her out, back into the pot where the mutagen was held - but wait, that /isn't/ her.]
Holbrook?
[The pot had been sitting on the bedspread - no, it had not. He'd put it on the floor. The pot had held harmless quicksilver - no, it had not. And they were only trying, in their own way, to make things better.]
Your pose is now set as:
Taye sits on the floor of the Cave, head lolling, eyes shut, breathing.
You have emoted: It is autumn. It will be cold soon. The Kelki lifts faintly trembling hands, firefly eyes now obscured by powder-blue skin, and her fingertips sink into her arms first, and when the pads of them push in, they leave no inky smudges behind. Would Taye need to search within herself again? Would it take more blades? And the most pressing query: Was her Gleaner /all right?/
[And it is that one question that finally draws the shivering Kelki to her feet, and the single directive is not formed in a structured tongue.]
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Comments
[A shaky hand. Taye is many things, but she is rarely shaky, enough to make a letter nigh-illegible. She rarely writes upon blank and unadorned paper, every last one having been adorned with the artful watercolours of the Lyrist's craft.]
Holbrook, please tell me you felt nothing different when you stood there by that arch, or you'll get Lord Haern's blade in you too.
I can't go there again. I don't think I should. Not until we make sure.
You close an elegant white letter.
You address the letter to Senator Holbrook Hought, and a wiry man dressed in grey robes takes it from you, giving a shrill whistle that causes a snowy owl to descend from its perch and alight on his outstretched arm. He attaches the letter to the owl's leg, and with a soft hoot it soars away.
[It's that one fear she's smiled at, politely hauled away, shut into a drawer and never bothered to look at, rearing its ugly head. And even now she'll simply herd it as she has done - there. Now she can go back. No, she can't.]
Kagura's thoughts fill your head, "Are you feeling alright? You had appeared to be strangely attracted to the arch. Perhaps you might want to take a rest?"
[And it's that one fear that this time gives voice to what had no structure previously:] I CAN'T LOSE MYSELF.
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Kagura, "Please." The voice is raw, wound unclosed, but at the very least, perhaps, it feels more like herself for the moment. "Please keep an eye on Holbrook." She has seen, then, your salute - had been lucid enough to latch onto, at least, what is familiar to her. "Was he all right? When he was there?"
You have emoted: There is the wall for her to lean on. Her palm finds it first, and Taye sags. Never has a wait been grueling to her - no, not never, rarely. Too much confusion, too much weight, too much effort after a shattering and a fight for it to needle her; it is, simply, the insistent pound of a headache upon her mind, without the screeching pain but just as enduring.
Kagura's thoughts fill your head, "I will - we will protect the Senators with our lives. Rest easy, he was not there when I arrived, so he must have retired to rest." There is a clear sense of concern in the link. “You should as well, take some rest, and perhaps visit a Syssin to ask for a check up, just in case."
Holbrook.
Holbrook. Forgive me.
I never should have asked.
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Kagura, "Please do." The weeping burgundy pulses won't expunge themselves, because the colour is her. She has to quiet the voice/colour she projects to you, and slowly but surely, she does. "Reave - Yes, I'll - thank you."
You request a blank letter, and are handed one promptly.
Kagura's thoughts fill your head, "Find some place to take a seat. Pietre will be coming to do a quick check on you, as well."
Pietre Marcelli says, "Taye, how are you?"
You have emoted: Taye holds an empty letter, just requisitioned, in one hand. She isn't visibly shaking, but neither has she turned to look at Pietre. "I don't think I was well," the Kelki whispers, and her voice, you can tell, is as full as her eyes.
Gently, Pietre leans in to have a close look at you, dark eyes scanning your face and body with keen discernment. "Can you tell me what happened?"
You have emoted: "It's a long story, but - ," Taye actually sniffs, running an inky palm over her eyes and cheeks. "First off, I really hope a Divine hand can remove whatever Elemental shadow that was in effect on me. I don't really /know,/ myself," she continues, the amount of moisture that she had to brush off calling for another loud sniff, "So - if we need to go to some containment chamber, or anything... I can explain there."
Pietre Marcelli says, "...Contain..."
Pietre nods his head emphatically.
A pristine, orderly infirmary
Orderly rows of spartan beds fill this long room, each made up with a set of starched white sheets and heavy wool blankets. Tall, cloth-covered partitions separate each bed, giving each patient a measure of privacy, while stands sit at each bedside to create a small medical station, with room for charts, tools and any necessary medications. Bright white lighting illuminates the chamber, with lanterns augmented by glow-globes for a harsh, bright glow to give doctors and nurses ample visual aid in any procedures they may need to do. A large entry separates the beds themselves from the hallway, with a desk staffed by a matronly, hatchet-faced nurse serving as a checkpoint for visitors - behind this, large sheets have been hung from the ceiling, shimmering with a faint glow that hints at arcane wards, with a track-like fixture overhead allowing the room to be quickly divided up in the event of a necessary quarantine. A sick patient lays on one of the cots in the infirmary, coughing fitfully. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Ever busy with the chores of the Pavilion, the physician's assistant is here.
You see a single exit leading south (open door).
Pietre Marcelli says, "...I think this is as good as I can get it, for now."
Showing you to a bed, Pietre draws the curtain on the coughing patient. "He's just dealing with some homemade poison, he'll be fine. But you must tell me everything."
Feirenz arrives from the south.
Glancing at Pietre, Feirenz taps two crossed fingers above his heart.
Pietre begins to make quick gestures with his hands and wrists.
Glancing at Feirenz, Pietre taps two crossed fingers above his heart.
A frown wrinkles Feirenz's brow as he articulates a "Hrm...."
You have emoted: Alarm barely registers across Taye's face - it actually hasn't. What issue that occupies her head here is far too pressing, and she clasps her hands at her front, fingers locking and squeezing for some support. "I'm getting old. And I can't do my part." Incongruous? Perhaps. But there is a rhyme and reason to most things, even if said things happen to look, sound, and behave like Taye. "I wanted to fix this. I knew Holbrook was a far better Archivist than me. I wanted him to help me fix this. We were looking into a way to reverse age..."
You say, "And we'd turned to mutagens. Shadow, but the kind all Archivists use."
Pietre purses his lips, listening carefully.
You have emoted: "It's best to ask him about the procedure," Taye preempts, with another quick sniffle. No embarrassment about that, at least, and the Kelki lifts one lightly curled hand to dab away that moisture, too. A childlike gesture, one that somehow does not look out of place with her current face - it would seem the two were making good progress. "But it would involve an... not an injection... absorbing of shadow. Let it map out myself. Manipulate it, reverse what age and wounds had done against a template. And we'd remove all the extra shadow from the mutagen after each session."
You have emoted: "But last week... we were in a hurry. I can't say if all of it had left me." And then, the Arch, the blasted Arch. She'd woken up feeling different, and Taye says as much. "I'm not sure what was even happening - I know I was /there/, in the cold cave in Sterion..."
You say, "I think I can remember what happened, but I don't /feel/ like I was there, or that I was me."
Closing her eyes, you say, "I think - I think people said I was standing too close to the Arch, too."
Pietre listens carefully, hands folded before him as he leans in, inspecting eyes. Inspecting tears. Inspecting face, and hands. "Go on."
You have emoted: She cannot fully recall the venom, the hatred, the relishing of it, as she'd stood with her citymates and the forestals. A blank slate, as white as the distorted thing passing itself off as blank, white, simple static - which in itself should not have /been./ And so Taye speaks, as best as she can, of what she can remember. "I remember wondering about the arch, and knowing this was Sterion, that Sterion used to safeguard us all from Ohlsana rampaging."
You say, "I remember looking back on my own experiment and the session last week, and I remember being... confused..."
You say, "Where we'd put the mutagen container. What had been in it."
It is now noon on Tisday, the 5th of Niuran, year 503 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: And it is here that her voice slows, though the readiness of her words would suggest she has run this simulation through her head before, already contemplated the possibility. Taye speaks. "I remember thinking mutagens... were supposed to be of ambient shadow."
Quietly, you say, "But there was the war, and we lost, and Sterion fell."
A voice rings out through the complex, reminding detainees, "The Sciomancers are offering a generous opportunity to all prisoners. Earn time off by participating in their research with singularities. Contact the Warden if interested, and to notify your next-of-kin."
Feirenz begins to make quick gestures with his hands and wrists.
Pietre Marcelli says, "You...don't remember going to Sterion, or approaching the Arch?"
You have emoted: "I asked the geode-Kobold where everybody was." Yes, that she did. "I did go there." Taye nods. "That I remember. Feet were too cold for me not to - but the Arch? That's... not quite as clear."
Pietre Marcelli says, "I was told, in short, that you at least approached it, if not touched it, and Haern killed you immediately rather than take risks."
Pietre Marcelli says, "Does any of that sound familiar?"
You have emoted: The effects of the last phrase are immediate. Taye's eyes snap wider open, fluorescent irises agleam, and she asks with far more intensity than her usual dreaming voice, "Does that remove all traces of corrupted shadow?" Then she realises what exactly was asked of her, and she bobs her head. "If I'd touched it I'd be worse off, wouldn't I? From what people told me - I likely went to it, yes. And I /was/ killed." A grimace, then, sharp and rebuking, at the own inadvertent flinch that accompanies her last confirmation. "And I would certainly hope that did the trick."
Other than the occasional glance or visible signed message to Pietre, Feirenz keeps a fair distance from you as he listens, pale knuckles turned almost to black as he grips the handle of his whip.
Settling onto an empty bed, Pietre nods slowly. "What are you experiencing right now? What do you hear, what does your body feel, what do you see?"
You have emoted: Nothing is left of the whispering Kelki, hands too dark for mutagen slithers to be really seen, crimson flecks woven with uncanny wisps of shadow. Nothing visible, nothing she herself can detect. No man had killed her but a god, and Taye's voice is quiet; her sniffs come fewer and farther in between. "I knew I felt... more scared than usual, coming back to life. It wasn't loud, but it felt like there was a thunderstorm in my head, and I had to hang onto what happened last week just to be able to move." She swallows. How much /could/ a god dispel? How can one tell? "Right now I see an infirmary. I see you," she simply offers. "I see Senator Ouroborean. As you both usually look." No hatred she can recall, sinuous and exalting, not even the shred of thought that had almost formed, for she had told Pietre herself - 'I can't do my part.' And thus she cannot speak of how the voice had congealed, had almost spoken to her in her own voice: 'they could study you - be of more use.'
You say, "My head doesn't feel as crowded anymore, I think."
A hand reaching up, you say, "My heart... slowly calming."
You say, "I only got up as quickly as I did because I knew I had to warn Holbrook. I'm... glad I moved, and you found me."
Calmly, Pietre Marcelli says, "Does your head feel clearer than it did before He killed you?"
With a few seconds of consideration, you say, "Yes. It...definitely does."
Voice growing smaller, you say, "We should still check, when Holbrook is back. Check him, as well. He's had to test it on himself, too."
Pietre seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly.
Pietre Marcelli says, "Now...I'm doing to do something, just to be sure that all is well. If you're all right, then nothing will happen. If you're infected, you will die. You understand why I must, for the good of progress."
You have emoted: Taye closes her eyes once again, and her fingers, never once having come undone, renew their grip. "Just wish nothing could hurt," is her murmur before she falls silent and still. A wish, nothing more, a resigned wish.
Pietre's smile is weary, but benign. "It is nothing personal. It never would be."
Pietre focuses his will, extending a hand. The air begins to ripple and distort, the sure sign of a planar anomaly in the making.
Smiling, satisfied that nothing came of it, Pietre pats your hand. "...You'll be all right."
With a sigh, Pietre Marcelli says, "But~...Don't do it again, all right? We'd all rather have you as you are. You'll always be more useful, fun, endearing and affectionate than a corpse."
You have emoted: And only now does Taye unfreeze, only now do her fingers unlace - only to go to her eyes, to let her palms cradle her cheeks.
[To any god she would reach out, and to no god she knows.]
It's his mutagen. It's his, and he should know it. Please - please let it have left him.
Please let it have left him.
Pietre Marcelli says, "The instant I see Holbrook, I'm hauling him in here for the same."
You have emoted: "Tell me." Once more the Kelki's eyes have gone liquid. The plea in Taye's voice is almost shocking. "Please let me know if I'm around for it. How it went, if I am not."
Pietre opens his arms for a hug. "Of course I will. Come here."
You have emoted: The woman that could have been, the one that so often takes a backseat to the child-Kelki, lover of glass and melodiously blank of voice, nearly weeps. With eyes that try so hard to see within the mate she knows to be sleeping Taye leans in, a touch jerkily, to lean her dark head on Pietre's shoulder. Her hands almost tremble when they find support at his back, but in the end do not. Warmth to the touch, privilege of the living. With those shell-shocked eyes she tries her best to give back the hug, and as the fractions of seconds pass her search slowly winds down, accepting that yes, she would have to wait. "I want to stay with him," she whispers. "If that is allowed. And - thank you. Whether it is, or not."
Placing a large hand upon your back, Pietre tucks her in to the best of her comforts. His clothes are soft, his body is cushy and warm, and he smells of kawhe and spices. "I would not separate you two gladly: your dedication to one another has led you down a difficult road, and we will help you through it, come what may. I do, however, want you to stop the mutagen experiments: there is never enough time with the ones you love, and never will be. Instead, cherish each one without fear."
You have emoted: Taye has always been a focused Kelki, and so her mind floats up and turns a few fragile pages as Pietre speaks. Why /did/ she start these experiments? Just a few, too-quick pages: blankets and tiny hats, not for a grown man. Snatches of conversations past that feels, to her, as familiar as a book one has paged through a hundred times or more, unable to slip past without noting that one lovely passage once again.
You have emoted: Her promises, the hope that an agreed-upon wait bears. They haven't worked on this nine months, hardly. Would it have worked? She did not have a mirror, to see. Hope returns, but the pulse is bittersweet. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. Maybe the changes they did make, before the war, took root - maybe her dreams could bear living fruit. Only time would tell. Taye exhales a soft breath. "Yes." I'll do my best, had lingered. But she should clarify. These are words whose reply should bear clarification, after all that happened today.
Warmly, Pietre Marcelli says, "Good. We'll be checking on you two with regularity, to make sure there's no lasting effects either. Shadowplague can be rather insidious, and strikes with subtlety."
It is now dusk on Tisday, the 5th of Niuran, year 503 of the Midnight Age.
You have emoted: "And no going to Sterion alone." One she can vehemently agree with. Taye offers a nod, just to emphasize the point. "I should..." Fatigue, coming in waves and droves. Natural, after all this. "...See how sleep will affect me, tonight. That will make it better."
Nodding, Pietre Marcelli says, "Please rest here, then, so that you can be supervised."
Warden Reave Lavalde tells you, "How are you? I just finally woke up."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Reave, "I was about to sleep - and, well." A soft yawn that barely covers wanness. "I think Pietre can brief you about this."
Warden Reave Lavalde tells you, "What do you mean...Pietre can brief me?"
You have emoted: Taye gets to it with easy acceptance. A bed is a bed, be it in Tasur'ke, the Ironmaw, or the apartment complex, or... A yawn breaks through, and she has already claimed her designated resting place, albeit in a distinctly fetal position. "Thanks... again. Really."
Speaking from the back of her mind, you tell Reave, "Ask him... and me, maybe, later."
You grow still and begin to silently pray for preservation of your soul while you are out of the land.