Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

[Breadman]

"Am I doing things right by you, sister?" You look away from her and stare into the distance "Am I doing what needs to be done? None of this will bring you back, will it? I feel like i should be content with the path I walk, yet it's never enough." Your eyes dart back to her "There is a void your absence has left that I have tried to fill. I have loved, hated, laughed and cried. None of that seems to work. Is there something more for me to grab and hold on to or am I fooling myself thinking Syrith's mercy is enough?"

 

[turtwigwins]

"Is truly only void here, or is there more to this place" You pause for a moment before speaking with more curiosity, but also concern. If this void is a solitary place it could lead to insanity. "And the other sisters now gone... are they also here, can you talk with them?"

 

[Damian0358]

"Sister..." she began, as resurgent doubt returned to her mind, "are you even you? Every time I gaze into your eyes, I worry that all I see is a mask being worn by Syrith to draw me deeper in. A mirage in your image, to draw on the strings of my heart that wish to see you by my side again, so that she could shape me into her image," she spoke, worried that no answer may satisfy her.

 

[K0mori]

Having chased this moment for so long, you have so many things to say that you can hardly find a place to begin.

"...I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reach you," you say. Anguish wells up inside you as you do your best to explain. "I wasn't careful; hunters drove me out of Tashlaan just days after my induction, and I had to flee to Mardenaal... and the elder sister of its circle treated me like a godsdamned prisoner! I was trapped, doing her bidding for two whole years, until..."

Your sister lets in a tiny gasp, a flicker of horror in her eyes at the passage of time, but she quickly buries it and puts on a brave face, likely for your sake. "...But you found a way to escape, after all of that. You were stronger..." Rigatte states as she begins to understand the situation. "The one keeping you - Diala - you killed her, didn't you?"

You reign in your self-pity and nod, grimly, before hesitantly confessing to her: "It took a dark inscription to bring out my worst impulses, but yes. I went to her chamber and murdered her. I killed her, I killed her bodyguard, and I killed one of her loyal pact sisters... I've killed a lot of people, Rigatte; they call me the Terrorchild. And the things I continue to do - to bring about Syrith's Grand Design - they're monstrous. Everywhere I go, I hurt people. ...I tear them apart. I'm..."

You trail off without finishing your statement, and for a moment, Rigatte remains silent, before taking a long, slow breath. "...I know," she says. "When I saw you last time, it was like the thread of your life was spooling out in front of me. I felt like I never left... And now that we're speaking again, it's happening just like before."

Your stomach tightens up with anxiety at what must be a shocking influx of gleefully violent and cruel memories from your recent past. What if she rejects you? But at the same time, you're almost relieved that you won't have to explain each and every step which has brought you to the brink of unleashing an army of witches, fae, and the walking dead upon a city far, far from home. Between these two opposite impulses, you try to test her reaction:

"Am I doing the right thing? All this, I mean." you ask, spreading your arms out to emphasize everything around you. "A part of me says yes, and yet... I'm still beset by doubts."

Rigatte sighs, looking a bit defeated. "...I think you already know the answer," she replies, and your heart drops. She leans over and places a hand on your shoulder to reassure you, and gives you a faint smile as she consuls you. "Hey... don't lose hope, Agranne. You weren't ever put in a position to do the right things, anyway. Witches pretty much never get the chance, and for whatever it's worth, I'm still proud of you."

"What for?" you demand, shrugging off her touch. "You told me: this life is what I make it. And even if I couldn't be good, I could've avoided becoming this."

She huffs in frustration. "And what are you? ...You're the hope of witches all over the continent! All over, there are children who've just awakened to their magic, and for the first time in centuries they're thinking that there might be a place for them in the world they know, and not just in the shadows! Not just... here!" she cries out as she gestures to the expansive void around you. "...Agranne," she says emphatically as she settles back down, "if I were alive, I'd be fighting right there alongside you - not because you're my blood sister, but because I wouldn't be able to help myself but believe in your cause, even if it's wrong, even if it's evil."

You nod, trying to take the encouragement, but a part of you is paralyzed with seeds of doubt. What planted them there? Was it your own suspicions of Syrith's intentions? Could it have been Embryx's dismissal of your dreams? You remind yourself that this is really happening, and not a dream, and since everything you're experiencing can't simply be a figment of your imagination, that leaves only two possibilities... You almost don't want to ask, as your sister's presence and affection feels as genuine to you now as it did the first time, but then again, emotional manipulation is a fundamental hex...

"Sister..." you begin anew, "are you even you? Every time I gaze into your eyes, I worry that all I see is a mask being worn by Syrith to draw me deeper in. A mirage in your image, to draw on the strings of my heart that wish to see you by my side again, so that she could shape me into her image," you speak, worried that no answer may satisfy you.

"...What?" she asks in a voice shrunken by heartbreak and dismay. "I... I don't know how to... to answer that."

As much as it pains you to see her like this, the thought that this, too, is part of an illusion bothers you enough to push through, and you nearly compel her to speak the truth - but then you realize that if Syrith is truly toying with you, then this phantasm of your late sister could pretend to be compelled while still feeding you lies - just as Veralt deceived Corrinth, who thought he was under her spell. You finally break free from indecision and say something: "I can't help it. It feels like everything you say is what I want to hear, or what I need to hear."

"What do you want me to do, then!?" Rigatte snaps at you. "I've been dead for three years, and I've had a total of two conversations with someone I care about. Do you want me to argue with you? ...To say something mean!?"

You refuse to back down. "I don't know! ...I want to trust you. But Syrith has been playing with my head, and as long as the only place I can find you is in her special little afterlife, I don't know how I can be sure that it isn't another trick..."

"What do you mean?" Rigatte says, crestfallen, and perhaps a bit stricken by dread. "...What has she done?"

You stare at her a moment, wondering why she wouldn't know, when she seems to know so much about your other experiences. From her tone, however, you can tell that she's truly concerned - she knows something about Syrith that she isn't being forthcoming about, and you seize on that.

"...What exactly is Syrith, and this place?" you eventually ask.

"That's a hell of a question to ask at this point, isn't it?" Rigatte replies. "Okay. I'll do my best to answer your question if you'll come back and answer mine when I'm done. So, bear with me for a moment... When I was alive, I was studying a particular kind of magic, called mysticism. If you've met any witches who tell fortunes, or any mind readers or darkscribes... Anyone with a crystal ball like this one," she says, taking a glass orb out of her pocket and showing it to you, "we're all trying to study the unseen, and sometimes the unknowable. Every true mystic's greatest dream is to see the true face of the Eldest, but she never reveals herself to us no matter what we try. We all see something, but it's never quite the same. Or maybe laying eyes on her does something to our minds, or our memories, so that when we try to communicate what we've seen, we're no longer sure. Either way, she's as much of a mystery to us in death as she was in life."

You frown. "All I saw of her was shadow, when she spoke to me. And from what I've heard, that's all anyone sees. But, I've heard," you say, being careful not to disclose yet where exactly you've heard it, "that when Syrith comes to speak to an inductee, a portion of the soul is taken, and a portion is shared. All of us would then share part of our souls with the Eldest, and the Eldest, in turn, is an amalgamation of the coven itself."

Rigatte's eyes widen. "...I've heard of that theory, and how darkscribes can supposedly awaken that portion of the soul with the right inscriptions - just like when you killed Diala. I hope that it isn't all true, because if the Eldest doesn't have a true body or soul, then we're all just sustaining this Grand Design stuff as a mass delusion, and imprisoning each other in this place after death without any real cause..."

You shake your head. "No, I don't think that's what it would mean at all. She seems to know the future, and orchestrates events to her favor. When we speak to her, she's waiting to hear it."

Your voice trails off, and you grow quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Is Syrith some sort of necrotic entity? A construct? Something more... bizarre?"

"Probably the latter," Rigatte replies, exasperatedly as she lays down flat on the floor, staring up at the empty void sky above her. "Maybe what we see during our inductions is a construct, but the true being is probably something we can't even comprehend. If she's a portion of all of us, then she has all of our talents. Why wouldn't she be able to use shadowmancy to build physical forms, or glimpse the future, if some of us can? Hells, even I did it, once or twice..."

You feel an urge to ask another pointed question, but even before you can broach the topic gently, Rigatte returns to her original question.

"Agranne, you said that Syrith's been 'playing with your head.' I want to know what you meant by that," she asks, sitting back up to look you in the eye. You find yourself beginning to trust her again, as the girl looking back at you seems a far cry from the almost guardian angel-like figure who appeared before you during your induction, and who reappeared at first tonight. She looks spiritually tired, a bit frightened, and full of secrets and regrets. Now that you've scratched the surface, you feel able to speak your insecurities:

"...I've had two rather vivid dreams. One of a fallen goblin sister named Ika, and one of a drow named Sharyx. Ika was trapped here in the void... anchored by shackles and chains. She didn't know how much time had passed or what I had done since she died. I don't really know if you can tell either. As for Sharyx... Syrith seemed to manipulate me into marking Sharyx soul... Did I really do that? Was I marked the same way? Some invisible force comes to someone one night and... just taints their souls..."

As you speak about Ika's chains, Rigatte looks at you sadly. "You've never noticed them on me, huh?" she replies before standing and walking in a circle around your undead body. You barely see them, but they're there - clinking and clanking, barely audible as she walks, and fading into thin air just behind her ankles. "The chains are what keep us anchored here, I think. If you ever plan on getting me out, you'll have to figure out how to break them."

But then, as you describe your experience with Sharyx, a sudden change comes over her, and she looks away from you. When she doesn't reply, you confront her about it: "Rigatte, you're not telling me something."

"...I lied," she says.

There's a long pause, and you wait for her to elaborate.

"When we talked, two years ago, you asked me if I knew, and I swore to you that I didn't, but I was lying." She sits down where she had been before, her troubled expression deepening as she explains herself. "Please, don't hate me for it - by the time you asked, you had so little time that I would have said anything just to get you to leave this place. I didn't have time to tell you the full truth."

While you remain silent, a portion of you feels the sting of betrayal. You do your best not to get angry. Everything you've done since that fateful night has been in service to the dream of reviving your sister, and you're not going to throw it all away on a gut feeling. You need to hear everything she has to say.

"I didn't know for sure, that much was honest. But I told you, I'm a mystic, and I've seen events that have come to pass, and others that haven't. I've had dreams and nightmares that I've never forgotten, because once in a while they seem to herald something, and if you fail to heed the warning it comes back to bite you... I had a dream, not long before I came back to Ryggander to fetch you, and in that dream you were sitting under the big dead tree next to the house like we used to when you wanted to talk. And you were crying... I called out, and then I ran to you, but you couldn't hear or see me, and when I got close, I saw..."

She pauses, choking on her own emotions. "...I saw that you were holding that ragdoll that used to be mine, and I felt so awful... I wasn't there for you anymore, and I knew that when you were sad, or lonely, when you needed someone to talk to, you were alone, and it was my fault. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by runes-"

"...Oh, fuck," you say, putting your head in your hands. "I remember that night. I remember falling asleep under that tree, so suddenly that it felt like I fainted."

Rigatte breaks down in tears - miserable, inconsolable tears. "...I just tried to give you a hug, Agranne. But the moment I reached out to touch you, I felt your soul in my hands... and it was so fragile, like sugar glass... But it was covered in runes, different from the ones around me, and on me, and by the time I realized what I had done, it had changed you..."

Your soul was already marked, and Rigatte altered it!? Were you supposed to be a sorceress before she infused your soul with dark magic!?

"The whole way home to Ryggander, I kept checking my crystal ball, trying to scry out your future. I saw us, happy together. I had no idea whether my dream meant anything, but those visions of the future meant everything to me. I wanted to save you from that life we lived in Ryggander and see you healthy and happy - it never mattered to me whether or not you'd be a witch like me. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault," she sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

Dealer's Choice: Speak Freely - (Players: Respond in any way you feel is appropriate. Several will be selected and used as dialogue. Responses not used from the previous prompt may still be used in the next update.)

 

[Infab]

"...So I was marked by some other god, and Syrith made you unknowingly corrupt the mark." you mutter softly, eyes shifting to just stare off into the void. "...And she made me do the same to Sharyx, which also means... perhaps she's chosen someone else to be her avatar already."

You feel anger beginning to boil deep inside. You may have had a better life before Syrith's involvement, free from this rampant death and destruction. Perhaps as a mage? You could have lifted both yourself and your family out of poverty, in the service of Zuklanar or some other nation. Syrith, however, took that away through the manipulation of your sister.

Part of you wonders why the god that chose you hadn't done anything to try and help after the fact. They had chose you for a reason, so where were they? Those thoughts, however, were drowned out by the sheer hatred you felt right now for the incorporeal entity that was Syrith in this very moment. She corrupted you, chose you to be her avatar, and when you started to stray, she intended to simply toss you aside for someone better. She even manipulated you into marking your own replacement.

You wonder how Veralt and Corrinth would play into things when the time came. Perhaps they would try to kill you for her, or simply abandon you. The rest of the circle would follow, of course, because they're more loyal to Veralt now and its Syrith's will.

You swallow the words that you were itching to spit into the void, knowing you were in Syrith's realm right now, and simply look to your sister. "...What do you know about resurrection?"

 

[Damian0358]

As Rigatte sobbed, Agranne reached out to give her a hug. Agranne knew that she had to make things right, even if it meant damning herself in front of the god that had sent her down this path.

She thought about everything all this meant about everything she knew about the gods; forget the fact that she had been marked by another god and they hadn't done a thing in response, this meant that the other gods such as Gallanis were definitely real, and, not only that, that they likely acknowledge their own chosen just as Syrith does. How many like her are out there right now, attempting to speak to their chosen god, only to receive vague responses that they were then forced to decipher? How many have to deal with their god's constant subterfuge, attempting to make them do as they please?

...how many are there that worship Syrith just like she worshipped Gallanis, never receiving a response, forming their opinion on her based solely on her followers just as she had for the other gods? Is divine silence the actual default from the gods, only having a chosen few whom they have lead the charge? How much of what she believed to be uniquely Syrith was actually shared between the gods? Did Syrith actually allow her into this domain, or did she will herself into a domain shared between them all?

In any other moment, this would make her resent the gods in general even more, but it only bolstered the part in her mind which opposed Syrith, and the part within it which sought to try an impossible task... to kill Syrith.

She looked down at her sister's chains. If this realm was shared between the gods, then what brings about those chains about? Could they be induced by the god that had marked them, assuming without further knowledge that all gods chained their marked like so? Could the only reason Rigatte was chained here be because of Syrith?

"...what do you know about those chains? Do you think I'll have to confront Syrith about them?" she felt compelled to ask.