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.

 

[K0mori]

How could you possibly respond? For a while, your mouth hangs open as Rigatte cries her ghostly tears, and you agonize over the depth of the truth you've just been given. The moment you accept the basic premise, it begins to turn your entire world on its head, and things that you thought you knew are proven helplessly wrong in the process. You decide that words can wait, and carefully side up to your sister before throwing your arms around her and holding her close, all the while never losing sight of your narrow window into the mortal world. She leans against you, and you each say nothing for a while as you take in the past three years from a new point of view.

Your soul was already inscribed with the language of creation. You can't explain how, but for one heartbreaking conclusion:

"...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.

You should've had a different life, and you both know it. All of the bloodshed and all of the death and destruction didn't originate within you, and it didn't originate in Rigatte, either. It was always Syrith's design, and you still haven't escaped it. Where are the other gods, then? Whoever bestowed you with magic probably should've stepped in a long time ago, well before your household was unraveled by darkness and evil.

Is escape even possible? Since your awakening, you've been taken advantage of - from Corrinth and Diala, all the way up to the Eldest herself. You've been a tool for others' ambitions and designs, marching eastward on a warpath while your heart remains at home in the west, longing for peace and tenderness. But your sister may have suffered even worse in that regard, as her entire life - her dreams, her passions, and her future - were rendered completely irrelevant in the face of Syrith's greed for your soul. She was only collateral - a stepping stone, and you come to realize that the same fate likely awaits you if you abandon the task that Syrith has laid out for you.

"...And she made me do the same to Sharyx, which also means... perhaps she's chosen someone else to be her avatar already."

Rigatte sniffles and wipes her nose before looking at you, distraught. "But... Agranne, you're a hexblood... the only hexblood. No one even noticed when I died, but the whole world knows about you and your abilities. If the coven loses you, there's no telling what would happen."

"And why wouldn't She just create another?" you reply, bleakly.

Your sister closes her eyes for a moment before inspiration strikes her: "Maybe... She can't."
It takes a moment before you realize what she's getting at. While Syrith's touch can corrupt those with evil in their hearts and turn them into witches, it's still up to them to learn the craft, just as it would be for any mage - which is why She lures her future followers in with dreams and predestined happenings which place them on a fixed course to join the coven. ...But none of this accounts for the source of dark magic, which even the coven acknowledges must come before Syrith's involvement.

Another god must be responsible for the existence of all sorcerers, and hexbloods are merely a corruption of that intent. The rarity of sorcerers and sorceresses, combined with the unlikelihood of a god investing such power into someone with exploitable darkness in their hearts, must be the cause of the hexblood's near impossibility in the world around you. You were a mistake - a miracle gone wrong.

"You might be right," you say. "I might be the only hexblood, but I have Veralt and Corrinth in my pact, and both of them are as unique as I am. The more time my circle has traveled together, the more mundane my inherent magic becomes in their eyes. I might as well be any other witch, just without a wand, only special because of that," you say as you point at the Pandemonium Door. "And truth be told, if Veralt were to take it away from me, I don't think I can get it back. When Corrinth had it, it took three of us - me, Embryx, and Jannava - to bring her down."

Rigatte sighs. "...Then what will you do if Veralt takes it from you? And what will you do if Sharyx appears?"

You shake your head. "...I'll do whatever I have to do to survive."

"Even if it means serving someone like you served Diala?" your sister counters. "Agranne - I know it's hard, but you can't give up on yourself. Syrith may have put you in this position, but She's not all-powerful. She's a mystic - She scries out shards of the future, and plans accordingly, but there's no such thing as a fortune-teller that never gets it wrong. She didn't make you. She couldn't make you on Her own, understand? But you can be certain She wants you to think She can predict your every defiance and unmake you on a whim, so you'll be too scared to live for yourself. Don't ever let Her do that to you!"

You look at Rigatte with renewed fascination. You never expected her to speak so openly of defiance, or even rebellion, like this, but then again, she's as angry about her throwaway role in your emergence as a witch as you are. Perhaps, when you threatened Syrith Herself before your excursion tonight, She really did concede to you, unwilling to risk Her Grand Design falling apart or losing its most important piece, and so She arranged this meeting to placate you. The only other possible explanation for Syrith to allow you to hear these things is that She simply doesn't care if you hate Her.

You begin to nod, and she nods back at you. You know that your course in life will shift again, and so does she - as you set your sights against your patron Goddess. Rigatte gives your hand a squeeze to reassure you, your fingers interlocked in a way which reminds you of half-forgotten memories - moments in which you needed to be brave. Maybe Sharyx will come, and Veralt and Corrinth will shepherd the circle you've built into her following. Maybe the Pandemonium Door will slip from your grasp. It won't matter - you won't bow down to any of them. You'll fight for your life, and claw back your sister's life from Syrith's clutches, no matter what it takes.

But you won't say it out loud - at least not as loudly as you would prefer. Not here.

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

She gives you a grin as if to silently thank you before answering: "I know a few things. First, it requires a particular ritual. A living sister has to die so her soul can be exchanged with another's, and it has to happen at a particular place and time - once every hundred years or so. The good news is that there's an opportunity coming soon."

"What place? ...And how soon?"

"In Zuklanar," Rigatte replies. "I don't know where in Zuklanar; it's a huge country, after all, but supposedly the very first circle of Lythrefang traveled west after being expelled from Bruxia, all those years ago, and they settled within the Empire. You've heard the story before, right?"

You nod. "Diala taught me about it... She didn't tell me where the coven put down its roots either, but she said it was in the Empire, and how they influenced Zuklanar's rise and fall, and the separation of Aelesh from Sonnamille... Assuming the site is still there, and we can still use it for the ritual, do you think Kulka would know where it is?"

"Yeah," Rigatte replies. "She'll know... And as for how soon, I remember before I died, someone told me that resurrections only happen when a red comet appears in the sky, which I looked into. The last time it was seen was during the reign of Emperor Lanast IX - so it should be do within the next few years, if not the next few months."

"So then, all I would need is a soul to trade for yours," you say, a bit disgusted at the prospect, before realizing that you've met several genuinely horrible witches in your travels that you wouldn't mind seeing disposed of.

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

She shakes her head; she doesn't know how the chains work, and doesn't seem to think it's a good idea to confront Syrith unless you have no other option. "Only if you show up without a soul to trade, I guess. If you're going to start fighting gods, though... you'd better get over your fear of your pact siblings," she jokes.

"Is there truly only void here, or is there more to this place? And the other sisters now gone... are they also here, can you talk with them?"

"There's really nothing, Agranne. I think I'd be mentally slipping if you didn't come here again, but simply interacting with someone from the outside world makes me feel alive again. As for the other sisters... Yeah, they talk sometimes, when they're not lost to despair, waiting for others to visit or free them. I don't know that goblin you mentioned, Ika, but I'll look for her, I guess. Maybe I can help lift her spirits, telling her about all the things you've been up to. Maybe we'll both get out of here, right?"

You nod, but you can't help but feel awful for everyone who was tricked into this place. Your desire to rebel against Syrith has been steadily rising throughout this entire experience, to the point that you almost can't imagine accepting anything less than her destruction as a deity. But to say so out loud would be nothing short of insanity.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rigatte says with a laugh, seeing how badly you've become lost in thought. You shake it off and smile for her sake.

“I’m ready to fight. We'll be reunited soon” you say before pausing. “...But if you have any advice for me, I would love to hear it, because I’m still afraid - I fear I'm not ready to do what I need to do.”

Rigatte smiles with a bittersweet look in her eyes. She knows that you're going to have to leave her again, but she's proud of you as she's ever been. "That fear is proof that you're special, Agranne. You're not afraid of death, or displeasing the gods, or marching on Thandan tomorrow. You're afraid because you care about me, and that partner you travel with... Embryx. The fear is there because love is there too. Don't forget it," she says as she picks herself back up. "I'll see you again soon, okay?" she says.

You stand and embrace her one last time. "Yeah. See you soon," you promise.

---
​

You awaken in your body again, feeling strangely numb, as if you don't quite fit the way you remember. You try to take a breath when you realize that your lungs aren't obeying you, and the momentary surge of panic dissipates as you realize you're sharing your flesh with a construct. Dispelling it, you wait with fearful hesitation until you're certain that your heart will beat on its own, but once it does, you breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

Pushing the door open, you look out into the dark and quiet temple and pick out Embryx from the other women sleeping peacefully there. As you tip-toe across the room to join her, however, you're startled by the flapping of wings up high in the rafters. You turn and spot a lone crow, perched on the beams holding the roof up, and it stares back at you with beady little eyes. Somehow, you know it isn't just a bird, this time.

1. Meet with Corrinth - You beckon Corrinth to meet you outside so that you can spare your exhausted sisters a chance to sleep ahead of the battle tomorrow.

2. Confront Corrinth - You aren't going anywhere, even if you wake everyone up. "Get down here and quit playing games, Corrinth!" you shout at her.

 

[turtwigwins]

1

 

[Damian0358]

1