Fantasy Cinders and Ashes (Completed)

[Ezri]

This was a more difficult proposition— it would be hard to argue for the Fae’s motives when by all accounts she should not know them. In this fervor, if she admitted to being bound to the Wood even temporarily, she’d be completely discredited if not worse.

“No, burning the Wood won’t solve anything. It is the demons, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” They had to stay on track, or else risking a complete collapse of discourse. “And the spy from among us who’s been working with them. Is it possible that there’s some issue with the agreement? If the Fae have upheld it until now, something must have changed.”

 

[ArcticFox]

The cries ring out behind you as you leave the building. The council disperses - you slip away into the streets. There is not a moment to lose.

The air outside is heavy with a sense of doom. If you do not seize this chance to speak to someone you hold in the highest of regard, they may Fall before you reach them. The thought curls around your mind, even as you continue towards the keystones. For if you survive all this - should it be possible that you remain Willed at the end - perhaps there is someone you would wish to share your life with, whatever happens next.

Equally, if you wish to break it off with someone you are courting, now is the time. Last breaths, and last thoughts, flood you.

- Speak to Wren.
- Speak to Alcindor.
- Speak to Rowan.
- Speak to Danaer.
- Don't speak to anyone.

 

[Ezri]

Things had started turning for the worse even more quickly than Vivian imagined. She’d been rallying against it for what felt like ages now, but the reality was finally hitting that maybe they wouldn’t stop it. Maybe it was all for nothing. Her heart thudded in her chest. Maybe she would die.

Wren could know something, or maybe he was just as panicked as she was. At the moment he was he only person she could think to rely on. He might not even be at the Grufford manor, she knew rationally, but her feet carried her there anyway; as long as she had a goal, even a single,l short-sighted one, then she could keep moving.

 

[ArcticFox]

You find Wren at the bridge near the Wood, one of the old unmarked entrances to the forest. He is holding a musket and a scroll and looks incredibly weary.

You both begin to speak at the same time.

"Miss Price-"
"I was hoping you would come this way-"

You stop and look at each other, really look. His eyes are earnest, and there is a special light in them that makes you take a step backwards. He sees you. How you are, the truth of you. Shivers run down your spine. The intimacy is palpable, your connection strong and true. The bell is still ringing in the distance, calling the town to attention. Every moment that passes is a moment too long, too stringent.

He regards you, eyes gentle. It seems some of your thoughts have crossed his mind as well. But he waits, leaving room for you to speak first. Unwilling to trap you with any sort of expectation or design.

"What are we going to do now?" he asks, simply.

- Get married.
- Remain friends.
- Remain lovers.
- Break up.

 

[Ezri]

Wren’s plan, if you could call it that, didn’t look terribly promising. It was simultaneously encouraging to see his efforts and disheartening to know that it really might come down to bullets from a gun. Was that really all they were capable of? It almost seemed that their falls would be inevitable.

But it was nice to hope.

“Assuming the best, of course,” she said, with a wry sort of smile. “We might as well stick together, don’t you think?” It seemed silly to think ahead any further than that, than to expect there to be anything beyond their current attraction. But it also seemed silly to be conscious of it, to worry about marriage or the social aspect. Right now, their feelings were all they could really count on.

 

[ArcticFox]

He smiles. "And I would loathe for it to be any other way. In so far as any person can promise such a thing, I think there is no danger of either of us disappearing where that is concerned."

You are brought together in a brief, passionate kiss, then the tolling bell in the distance separates you again.

"Be well," he says, clasping your hand. "I will look for you at the end of all of this." You know he means the matter of Cinders, writ large.

Then, there is the matter of your house and inheritance. Now that all has occurred as it has, do you want to sell your property and leave Cinders when all this is over?

- Stay in Cinders.
- Plan to leave.
- Leave definitely.

 

[Ezri]

Wren was encouraging, and if there was any sort of future in the cards for them, at least there would be one guarantee. One promised good thing. It would be nice if this moment could last longer, but their embrace was cut short by harsh reality. She sighed and nodded.

Cinders had not been particularly kind to Vivian; in many ways it seemed distant and broken, like a tower ready to collapse. But how much of that was the demon influence? Could it be changed? Despite all her cynicism and grievances, the thought of leaving the estate was hard to bear.

She could take what she could and leave, of course, but she couldn’t help thinking of them and all their efforts. Her guardian truly seemed to want to understand this, to save Cinders from its fate. Maybe it was worth saving, then— and maybe if it was still here in the end, it would be worth staying for.

 

[ArcticFox]

The day you saw the thralls digging, near the town limits - that must have been the first keystone.

You retrace your steps out to the hills, to where you picnicked beneath the apple trees that day. Sure enough, there is a gaping hole in the earth there, shocking nothingness among the waving grasses and field flowers.

Since you have chosen to work with the philosophers, you send word to them once you return to town, and meet with maps and ink ready to continue the search. This is a chance to prove your loyalty to the demons, by taking it upon yourself to find the other three keystones and assist in their removal. Or to prove your loyalty to the town, by securing the keystones.

You have, at your disposal, old city maps, your wit, and your senses. If you are confident in the latter two, it might be wise to strike out with the maps and your instinct as your guide. However, if you have a good deal of evidence, you may be more successful in putting together the pieces using that. And, of course, there are the daemons. If you are favoured by them, their Fallen may allow themselves to be followed.

Whichever you choose, failure may prove dangerous indeed.

- Use the maps.
- Ask around.
- Follow your evidence.
- Follow the Fallen.

 

[Ezri]

As she suspected, the thralls that day had already been working to remove the keystones. If they’d found that one, surely they would find the others too, given enough time. Vivian needed to move quickly.

But how? Where to look? Thankfully she had the Philosophers to aid in the search, but they still needed a direction. The maps were as good a clue as any, and with separate groups looking they would be organized and efficient. The only other thing she could remember that she wanted to keep in mind was that task from the Fae, when she couldn’t refuse them— she ran in circles, seemingly, but for what? Could it be related? At the time she dismissed it as something beyond her understanding, but it stuck out very clearly in her mind now...

 

[ArcticFox]

You take the town maps and spend a few moments memorising them, at the same time feeling in your senses for any chink in the fabric of protection that lies over Cinders. Little by little, you sink into it with emergent skill. The magical protections that cover Cinders feel like a layer of silk, smooth and supple, and right over the location of the first keystone, there is a hole, a startling absence.

You trace a line with your finger from the hole to the next place the sensation differs - there is a bright spot there, a slight heat. But it is flickering. There is something uncertain over the map, a haze hanging before you, a trace of another keystone. But, try as you might, you cannot discern it - your senses do not dip so far or so fine, yet. Better to find one keystone than none at all, however. You mark down the position of your fingers on the map, and hasten to find it.

You ride with all haste towards the highway keystone, and then the one placed near the river.

The first was already removed, there is no sign of it. The gaping hole in its place is large enough to have contained an immense block of stone - it must have taken considerable trouble to remove it, and will be slowing the Fallen down. But they seem to be taking no chances.

The river keystone is still in place when you arrive - evidently, you have beaten the Fallen here. Not terrible odds, all considering. You ride with all haste to the last keystone.

- Push yourself to your limits.
- Sense for the magic.
- Send the philosophers to slow the Fallen.
- Send members of the Council to slow the Fallen.

 

[Ezri]

While the Fallen were working just as quickly, it seemed, she had found one before they got to it. It was a relief and a bolster of confidence; it wasn’t ideal, but even having one was better than nothing at all. Still, she didn’t have the utmost confidence in her senses, leaving the only remaining keystone’s status still in question.

She could only assume the Fallen hadn’t taken it yet, more as a hope than anything based in fact, but they would undoubtedly be on the way. The Colonel could slow them down, maybe— who else would know how, or have the capacity? There wasn’t time to think about it— she would tell the Council and then leave for the keystone herself.

 

[ArcticFox]

Your reputation is sufficient that the they come quickly, albeit seemingly mystified. You explain your plan to them.

Lady Eugenie is quick on the uptake. "And what do you propose we do?"

After you ask them to hinder the Fallen, there is a discussion, but with your eminent status and Lady Eugenie and Col. Ayax on your side, it is settled rather quickly. The council members leap into their curricles and carriages, brandishing makeshift weapons, and rush off in search of the Fallen.

With the Fallen one less worry, you make for the fourth keystone with all haste.

Your efforts have paid off - when you arrive, the last keystone is still there. You approach it, touch it - a buzzing current runs through your whole body. Evidently, the magic that protects it is still intact. For now.

For the Fallen surround it like a wreath, and are digging in the vine-covered earth. Their grey clothes move in the wind like funereal smoke. With every shovelful of earth, Cinders' last defence is being stripped away. You feel it in your chest, in the soles of your feet, a twinge that makes you shudder every time spade touches earth. The sound of metal against stone makes the back of your hair stand on end.

You approach, as silently as you can, and consider your options.

- Confront the Fallen.
- Fight them off.
- Raise alarm.
- Help them with the keystone.

 

[Ezri]

It felt strangely personal, like the magic protecting Cinders was protecting her as well. If the prospect of its loss wasn’t frightening before, the very real sight of it was almost enough to make her heart stop.

But there wasn’t a lot Vivian could do by herself— there were many more Fallen than her, so if she tried to stop them with force she could easily be overpowered. The best she could do was call for help, and then do what she could to distract the thralls, to stall them— maybe she could even talk sense into them. A foolish thought, but it was worth trying. She was at the end of her rope.

 

[ArcticFox]

You run to the out-of-use guard tower and sprint up the stairs. Time is of the essence here. The bell is old, and heavy - it is dusty from disuse. You grab the rope and drag on it with all your might. The first toll nearly deafens you, but then you fall into a rhythm, yanking on the bell and shouting into the air.

The town watch, stragglers all, edge onto the street, struggling into dusty military jackets and peering up at you as if unable to believe their eyes or ears. Soon, they recognise you as an upstanding member of Society and proceed to call the council.

The Fallen turn their heads to one another and look at you, seemingly confused. You do not cease ringing the bell until enough people have flooded the area to pose a threat. Then, slow to recognise when they are outnumbered, the Fallen throw down their spades and retreat.

A bell clangs out, startling you - the thralls, already fleeing, quicken their steps. Soon, they disappear into the trees, skirting the main part of the forest. The alarm has been sounded - the town council has been called to the square. You have found three of the keystones, and two remain set in place, though the situation is dire, there is a little breathing room.

Now is the time to either negotiate with the demons a ceasefire, to call on the Fae for help, or to organise a human militia and fight the demons off.

- Call on the Fae for help.
- Confront the demons.
- Organise a militia.
- Flee the town.

 

[Ezri]

As the Fallen fled Vivian felt a surge of relief and exhaustion, as if now that she had a moment to rest all of her exertion hit her at once. They were safe, for now; they had some of the keystones under their control, and that would help. But how should they move forward? What could they do now?

The Demons were, at times, surprisingly reasonable— or maybe it was just Malachite. But even he seemed quite convinced of their takeover, and Vivian wasn’t confident that she could convince them otherwise. But wasn’t there an agreement that prevented the destruction of Cinders all this time? What had changed? Maybe if they negotiated with the Demons, they could figure out what went wrong, and hopefully how to fix it.

 

[ArcticFox]

In the contract, there was a reference to how to summon them: it is absurdly simple.

You trace a circle on the floor in the town hall library and stand outside it, gripping the chalk. Only one chance to get this right.

Colourful shapes flicker against the air and disappear, like phantom brushstrokes. It appears that the demons are struggling to take hold of their forms, but, after a minute, the shapes solidify.

Five stand in front of you, awkwardly smushed together within the circle - you made it a trifle too small. At first, they appear like a collective of horns and sweeping, colourful silks, long limbs, pointed chins, and eyes.

At length, your eyes distinguish their individual shapes. Malachite is there, a triumphant glimmer in his opaque eyes. There is a demon lady whose hair seems to be made up entirely of moths, and another who wears several coiled, moving snakes upon her shiny head. Another seems apparelled in the night, with stars sewn into her sleeves and a swathe of darkness obscuring her face like a veil. The other demon lord has two enormous horns curving up from his temples, and looks decidedly out of humour.

"What is the meaning of this?" The horned demon snaps in a voice more like a growl. The other demons move their clothes away from him, as if his presence is highly unpleasant.

"I thought you had rejected our proposition?" Malachite purrs, "Perhaps you now wish to ask of a boon? Better to be quick about it, there is much to do."

- Persuade them to spare your friends.
- Confront them about everything.
- Angrily explain that what they are doing is immoral.

 

[Ezri]

It was surprising how simple it was to construct the circle, although it was still a nerve-wracking experience. It was a wonder, she thought, that no one else had attempted it. Or maybe someone had? But the process succeeded, and in a flash she looked up to see her circle now filled with various, almost indistinct. But once you got used to it, seeing the demons all cramped together was almost comical in its absurdity, if you ignored how frightening these beings were capable of being.

"Hello again, Mr. Malachite." she said, deciding to have confidence while she could. It wasn't often that she felt like she was in control of the situation, and if the demons didn't stop their invasion then this feeling would be tragically short-lived. She just had to remind herself that they could be reasoned with, no matter how it chilled her to look at them for too long. "Forgive me for taking your time. I know that you are all reasonable and sophisticated individuals, which is why I thought we could discuss the matter at hand rationally."

"To my understanding, there is an agreement between my people and yours, and the Fae, about how we should coexist in regard to Cinders." she continued. "And, of course, tampering with any keystones wouldn't fall within the bounds of that agreement. I have a suspicion that the agreement was first broken by someone else-- it would be natural to take advantage of that situation. But is there anything else that you would accept, instead of all of our will? Surely we can negotiate an outcome that pleases everyone."

 

[ArcticFox]

The demons look at each other, and eye you with new respect. "Indeed, perhaps there is another option," Malachite says.

After a short silence, they begin discussing in their whistling, guttural language (it sounds, at times, like knives being sharpened and, at times, like silver bells, and its intensity is such that you are forced to cover your ears with your hands to protect your hearing).

The speaker folds long, pale fingers. "That is unfortunate, but of no account. Our contract with your town is null and void. We are under no obligation to remain in the Wilds."

"Or," the lady with moths says silkily, voice a purr. "You could join us."

The thought hangs between you for a moment, suspended midair.

"You'll be well rewarded."

The silence stretches out, slippery and ropelike.

- Join.
- Run away.
- Refuse.
- Join but as for more people to be saved.

 

[Ezri]

As suspected the demons were no longer abiding by the contract, but it appeared that they had no interest in renegotiating it, either. Not with Vivian, anyway, and not now. It was disheartening to say the least, but also an affirmation of certain facts; the demons weren’t going to give up, and it wouldn’t be easy to fend them off. But what choice did she have, if the other option was to forsake everything her guardian had been trying to protect?

“I appreciate the offer, of course.” She said, with a stiff, polite smile. “But— if I asked you to join me, instead, I’m sure I could guess your answer. And I wouldn’t blame you for it. It’s a shame that we won’t be able to come to an agreement. “

 

[ArcticFox]

As you refuse them, the demons disappear instantly from the circle. A sense of doom is heavy over the room, like a thunderhead before the storm breaks. Their absence is so sudden that it hits you like a blow. The hair stands up on your neck.

Whatever you will make of Cinders, you are on your own.

--

Colonel Ayax surveys the troops - you are a ragged bunch, to be sure. Yet, there are weapons enough, and with time, even the staunchest of gentry can surely be trained into fighting shape. After all, this is a precaution only, albeit one of deadly importance.

Once the Colonel goes around the room, he speaks, quietly. "We are here because we have been given the responsibility of protecting Cinders. We have always held this task, as members of the gentry. We have guarded it with our wills, and now we must guard it with our lives. Always remember this: you hold up a great many others. We must remain vigilant, but our task is still the same." He nods once, decisively; the room lets out a collective breath of air, inspired to action.

--

Over the next few days, you all undergo informal training - you learn how to hold a bayonet, how to fire, how to signal for help, how to light a fire in adverse conditions, how to tie knots, how to judge a situation and make rapid decisions. The learning is impromptu, and you implement it quickly. But your presence through the nights seems to frighten away even the most determined of the Fallen. After a few scares, they leave and do not return.

Still, Cinders hangs on by a thread. Three of the keystones remain. You will guard them with your lives in groups of two.

- You are determined.
- You are frightened.
- You are angry.

 

[Ezri]

This was not where Vivian ever expected herself to be, marching out with a gun in her hand. If someone had told her about this when she’s first arrived in Cinders, she would have thought they were a lunatic. She wasn’t a fighter or a soldier, no matter how much Colonel Ayax tried to convince her she was. But right now they didn’t have the luxury of not being soldiers.

It was frightening. There was no denying that, but Vivian tried to push those feelings down, at least keep them hidden from those who stood next to her. As much as some part of her wanted to run away, she had to fight. There was no option but to fight. That was the thought she tried to cling to instead.

 

[ArcticFox]

Col. Ayax draws up a list and forms a rotating guard for the keystones. The gentry pride themselves on their courage, but complain bitterly of the boredom of the task - nevertheless, order persists.

You make a place in your calendar for your weekly stint, standing in the hot sun with a bayonet. For the first few weeks, everyone is on edge, after that, it becomes routine. You gossip with the other guards, play card games, gamble for acorns, win a little, lose a lot - none of you play for spina, not now.

In the evenings, you look across the town, checking for the red light at the top of the hall that means that tonight - as the night before, and, luck willing, the night after - Cinders is safe. Night by night, day by day, life creeps on.

And so Cinders continues, guarding itself against both the demons and the Wood. You don't know when you are going to be attacked, but as days go by people start to wonder that perhaps as long as you are united, no attack will come.

--

Two months later, Cinders hums and turns around you, people react to great change in many different ways. The changes that you have helped shape can never be overlooked, that is certain.

- You have returned to your old habits.
- You are living on edge every day.
- You try not to think about it and go with the flow.
- Something else.

 

[Ezri]

Somehow life had persisted in Cinders, although two months ago Vivian might have regarded its destruction as an inevitability. Maybe that fear was still there, somewhere, lingering at the back of her thoughts and waiting to explode at the first sign of trouble. But there had been no signs.

Despite that, either because of their vigilance or regardless of it, life could move on somewhat normally. It was difficult to stay in that frame of mind, but it also seemed like a waste if she spent too much time worrying. A normal life, a life at all, was something she’d thought she might lose— so she tried to live normally, grateful that she hadn’t had to use her bayonet. Maybe she would someday, but she tried to savor each day that she didn’t.

 

[ArcticFox]

Life falls back into place, as it must, and returning to the normalcy of things helps to stave off the tide of complex, bewildered emotion that hangs over the town.

Lady Eugenie's annual Ball is an unanimously-reckoned success. However, it is also impossible to discount the effect of recent events upon this judgement. Perhaps the weather is fine, the company splendid, the musical lively and refined, the refreshment delicious, and the beverages abundant - but greater than these considerations are the relief that is felt in the hearts of each member of the gentry.

Just this morning, you received a call from your lawyer, who gave you the news that the legal difficulties binding your inheritance to Cinders have been resolved. You're free.

"Vivian!" Wren and Miss Joram hail you. When you greet them, the other philosophers greet you as one of their number, with hearty handshakes and slaps on the back - you meld seamlessly in with the intellectual elite of the town, and have made some hearty friends who would like nothing so much as to abandon all decorum and plunge into a fierce debate on analytical matters at a moment's notice.

A ripple of energy runs through you, residual - it is an echo of the Wood's call, but, rather than filling you with trepidation, it brings you a thrill of pride. For you have faced the Fae bargain and fulfilled it, something once deemed impossible.

A familiar face gives you pause - a ruffled silhouette, a little less put-together than in the past.

It is Jocasta Smythe, your neighbour. You catch her gaze - she gives you a scorching glare. Your relationship is rockier than ever. It is unlikely that you will ever succeed in gaining her good opinion, but, at least, you have an enemy worth the while.

- You will stay on Cinders.
- You will leave alone.
- You will leave with Wren.

 

[Ezri]

For as many bad things Vivian had to say about Cinders, there seemed to be an equal amount of good ones. With the restrictions of spina no longer hanging over them, even the rigid social expectations seemed a little more bearable; but not much. But that wasn’t something a young woman of any status could easily escape, no matter where she was.

And here she had a little collection of friends; she would be hard pressed to find a more loyal group than the Philosophers, eccentric as they were. And Wren, of course— if she asked him to follow her she was sure he would, but the more she considered it the more she felt there was no need. For all of its hardships and nosy neighbors, Cinders was home.