turtwigwins
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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening
- Thread starter Thread starter K0mori
- Start date Start date
demytra
the writer
2
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
2
bat_hacker
Junior Member
2
LoriMahe
Ohoho!
3
Damian0358
Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
2
Like Clockwork
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 2: 7 Votes (70% - Range: 1-70)
Option 3: 3 Votes (30% - Range: 71-100)
Fae Roll: 20
"...Agranne," Syrith says slowly, her hand resting on the pommel of Sharyx' sword as a thin wisp of shadow rises through her fingers. Her words drip with tempered fury. "...Sharyx may have never learned telepathy, but that doesn't mean that I can't use it. I must have some of the divinity, or else I can't bring your sister back; you don't know how the ritual works, and there's no more time to teach you. ...And if you're so certain that you want to become a goddess, then think - for once in your damned life - about the consequences."
You match her glare. "It can't be worse than what will happen if I die a demigod."
Syrith's expression remains deathly serious, and for the very first time, you sense that she's done playing games with the truth, and is actually warning you for your sake, rather than her own. "...If it came to that, then at least there would be a way out," she replies, before turning and surveying the chamber. "Look around you at this place, this decrepit place. Look at the engravings on the walls, etched there by steady hands, six thousand, two hundred and thirty-one years ago. My hands... I was so proud."
You look out over the room, unable to see the past glory that lives only the Eldest's eye. "...So you were mortal?" you ask, to a quiet rush of gasps.
"Yes," Syrith answers. "I was a witch - just another plaything of the gods - watching them in their infantile, reckless explorations of divinity. They were careless then, and the power of creation was far less scarce - it was only a matter of time before we mortals found a way to harness it ourselves. It was my ambition; I worked ceaselessly to attain it, and I had fully expected my circle to follow me into godhood - to join me in the Pantheon at the highest plane of existence!" a flash of mania traces through the goddess' eyes, which she quickly subdues.
You remember your own brush with mania in Thandan, when you saw yourself depicted in the tapestry and latched onto the idea of attaining godhood. You nearly killed Embryx, and only on reflection of that terrible impulse did you commit to seeking help and a less destructive path. As a result, you understand what sort of unchecked desires had burned in Syrith's heart, all those years ago.
"...The Pantheon never accepted me," she continues, bleakly. "They were reviled by me, and saw me as nothing but an interloper! They engineered the untimely demise of each of my sisters, one by one, before I even understood their machinations. I could see it coming and meddle with destiny, but I was outfoxed at every turn and eventually... I was alone."
You nearly snap at her, sensing that she's trying to seek your sympathy, but she stares into your eyes with a burning, fearsome intensity that causes your words to catch in your throat. No, this isn't about sympathy - this is about all that you hold dear.
"...They fell as demigods, always allowed a tantalizing taste of the divine before being snuffed out, nothing more than mules to carry the dwindling supply of godly power back to the vultures who created this world - and who sup on its misplaced adoration. I had to hide myself away, communicate in shadows and silence evermore, because all who have ever seen my true face have been struck down by the Pantheon in a way which erases them from existence - and you, Agranne, are blundering into the same outcome."
As she speaks, a reddish glow begins to fill the fissure in the ceiling of the cave, and your heart begins to race. This is the moment you've been seeking since your awakening, two years ago, and yet you still feel unready. "I can't trust you," you grunt through clenched teeth, shaking your head. No matter what she says, you can't allow her to have any part of her divinity until after your sister is safe and your soul is saved from obliteration! "I've made my choice, Syrith... Rigatte, my soul, and then, maybe, I will return a portion of your power. But neither of us will get what we came for unless we cooperate, right now!"
"Your soul, then," Syrith insists.
"Yeah, yeah... You need divinity for the ritual," you grumble.
Syrith takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as a swirl of dark magic rises from her sword. Perhaps she's reading your mind to judge your intentions, or perhaps she's glimpsing the future once more. "...Fine. Do what you will, Agranne - there are no more outcomes in my favor in which I don't consent. But remember: the Pantheon will soon be upon us to reap what they've sewed in you, and if you should rebuke them, it won't matter how many of my sisters you kill, how long you carry on being an emissary of death, even if you exceed your natural lifespan as Kulka did - they will take all that you love and erase it from creation as spite for your defiance, just as they did to me."
The gallery is stunned by her confessions as they remained transfixed on the exchange. She lifts her hand from the pommel and extends it to you, inviting you to take it and lead her out and over the abyssal gateway that will soon connect to her afterlife.
"Agranne!" Corrinth calls out to you at the last moment. "What about the vessel!?"
Your eyes widen. You had been so preoccupied with Syrith's threats and pleas that you had nearly forgotten that requirement. "Oh, shit," you mutter as you look back on the gathered witches, who now look upon each other in a horrified panic as they realize that one is about to die and have their body stolen.
"Oh, yes. You want to spare the fae's life, now. Fine... You - voidsinger," Syrith addresses as she turns to Seith. "Take the Elder and go. I'll have use for you both, later."
Seith clears his throat and steps off the wall he was leaning against. "As you wish, Dark One," he replies, unbothered to the point of apparent sarcasm. He drops one heavy hand on Venza's shoulder while gripping Kulka's cane in his other.
"Wha!?" is all Venza can say before she and the voidsinger disappear in a puff of smoke. You suspect they reappeared on the surface of the island, directly above you. The rest of the witches draw their wands and other implements as your allies do the same, as all of them appear ready for a desperate fight for survival - none more so than Embryx.
1. Let Embryx Take Charge - Your lover is about as dangerous as you've ever seen her, and right now, Syrith is beckoning you to begin the ritual. You take the Eldest's hand as Embryx leads a brutal attack unlike anything you've witnessed from her before.
2. Join the Attack - You're not going to let Embryx go in outnumbered without your help. You ignore Syrith's wishes again and leap into the fight, even as the eerie glow from the roof of the cavern intensifies. You won't have much time...
3. Make Syrith Join You - You suddenly get a fae-touched idea: you grab the Eldest by her wrist and throw her towards the brewing battle, just to see how she fights, now that you have an understanding.
Option 3: 3 Votes (30% - Range: 71-100)
Fae Roll: 20
"...Agranne," Syrith says slowly, her hand resting on the pommel of Sharyx' sword as a thin wisp of shadow rises through her fingers. Her words drip with tempered fury. "...Sharyx may have never learned telepathy, but that doesn't mean that I can't use it. I must have some of the divinity, or else I can't bring your sister back; you don't know how the ritual works, and there's no more time to teach you. ...And if you're so certain that you want to become a goddess, then think - for once in your damned life - about the consequences."
You match her glare. "It can't be worse than what will happen if I die a demigod."
Syrith's expression remains deathly serious, and for the very first time, you sense that she's done playing games with the truth, and is actually warning you for your sake, rather than her own. "...If it came to that, then at least there would be a way out," she replies, before turning and surveying the chamber. "Look around you at this place, this decrepit place. Look at the engravings on the walls, etched there by steady hands, six thousand, two hundred and thirty-one years ago. My hands... I was so proud."
You look out over the room, unable to see the past glory that lives only the Eldest's eye. "...So you were mortal?" you ask, to a quiet rush of gasps.
"Yes," Syrith answers. "I was a witch - just another plaything of the gods - watching them in their infantile, reckless explorations of divinity. They were careless then, and the power of creation was far less scarce - it was only a matter of time before we mortals found a way to harness it ourselves. It was my ambition; I worked ceaselessly to attain it, and I had fully expected my circle to follow me into godhood - to join me in the Pantheon at the highest plane of existence!" a flash of mania traces through the goddess' eyes, which she quickly subdues.
You remember your own brush with mania in Thandan, when you saw yourself depicted in the tapestry and latched onto the idea of attaining godhood. You nearly killed Embryx, and only on reflection of that terrible impulse did you commit to seeking help and a less destructive path. As a result, you understand what sort of unchecked desires had burned in Syrith's heart, all those years ago.
"...The Pantheon never accepted me," she continues, bleakly. "They were reviled by me, and saw me as nothing but an interloper! They engineered the untimely demise of each of my sisters, one by one, before I even understood their machinations. I could see it coming and meddle with destiny, but I was outfoxed at every turn and eventually... I was alone."
You nearly snap at her, sensing that she's trying to seek your sympathy, but she stares into your eyes with a burning, fearsome intensity that causes your words to catch in your throat. No, this isn't about sympathy - this is about all that you hold dear.
"...They fell as demigods, always allowed a tantalizing taste of the divine before being snuffed out, nothing more than mules to carry the dwindling supply of godly power back to the vultures who created this world - and who sup on its misplaced adoration. I had to hide myself away, communicate in shadows and silence evermore, because all who have ever seen my true face have been struck down by the Pantheon in a way which erases them from existence - and you, Agranne, are blundering into the same outcome."
As she speaks, a reddish glow begins to fill the fissure in the ceiling of the cave, and your heart begins to race. This is the moment you've been seeking since your awakening, two years ago, and yet you still feel unready. "I can't trust you," you grunt through clenched teeth, shaking your head. No matter what she says, you can't allow her to have any part of her divinity until after your sister is safe and your soul is saved from obliteration! "I've made my choice, Syrith... Rigatte, my soul, and then, maybe, I will return a portion of your power. But neither of us will get what we came for unless we cooperate, right now!"
"Your soul, then," Syrith insists.
"Yeah, yeah... You need divinity for the ritual," you grumble.
Syrith takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as a swirl of dark magic rises from her sword. Perhaps she's reading your mind to judge your intentions, or perhaps she's glimpsing the future once more. "...Fine. Do what you will, Agranne - there are no more outcomes in my favor in which I don't consent. But remember: the Pantheon will soon be upon us to reap what they've sewed in you, and if you should rebuke them, it won't matter how many of my sisters you kill, how long you carry on being an emissary of death, even if you exceed your natural lifespan as Kulka did - they will take all that you love and erase it from creation as spite for your defiance, just as they did to me."
The gallery is stunned by her confessions as they remained transfixed on the exchange. She lifts her hand from the pommel and extends it to you, inviting you to take it and lead her out and over the abyssal gateway that will soon connect to her afterlife.
"Agranne!" Corrinth calls out to you at the last moment. "What about the vessel!?"
Your eyes widen. You had been so preoccupied with Syrith's threats and pleas that you had nearly forgotten that requirement. "Oh, shit," you mutter as you look back on the gathered witches, who now look upon each other in a horrified panic as they realize that one is about to die and have their body stolen.
"Oh, yes. You want to spare the fae's life, now. Fine... You - voidsinger," Syrith addresses as she turns to Seith. "Take the Elder and go. I'll have use for you both, later."
Seith clears his throat and steps off the wall he was leaning against. "As you wish, Dark One," he replies, unbothered to the point of apparent sarcasm. He drops one heavy hand on Venza's shoulder while gripping Kulka's cane in his other.
"Wha!?" is all Venza can say before she and the voidsinger disappear in a puff of smoke. You suspect they reappeared on the surface of the island, directly above you. The rest of the witches draw their wands and other implements as your allies do the same, as all of them appear ready for a desperate fight for survival - none more so than Embryx.
1. Let Embryx Take Charge - Your lover is about as dangerous as you've ever seen her, and right now, Syrith is beckoning you to begin the ritual. You take the Eldest's hand as Embryx leads a brutal attack unlike anything you've witnessed from her before.
2. Join the Attack - You're not going to let Embryx go in outnumbered without your help. You ignore Syrith's wishes again and leap into the fight, even as the eerie glow from the roof of the cavern intensifies. You won't have much time...
3. Make Syrith Join You - You suddenly get a fae-touched idea: you grab the Eldest by her wrist and throw her towards the brewing battle, just to see how she fights, now that you have an understanding.
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CHUUYAS_HAT
ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ
- One on One
- Group
2
THEKAZUHA_ANEMO
𝐖𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝
- One on One
- Group
2
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
3
dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
- One on One
- Group
- Nation Building
- Off-site
333333333
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
- Group
- Dice
2
turtwigwins
Member
2
LoriMahe
Ohoho!
3
bat_hacker
Junior Member
1
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
3
demytra
the writer
3
Join the Attack
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 1 Vote (10% - Range: 1-10)
Option 2: 4 Votes (40% - Range: 11-50)
Option 3: 5 Votes (50% - Range: 51-100)
Fae Roll: 14
...Not that you lack confidence. In fact, you nearly threw the Eldest into the fray just for your own entertainment - before you managed to overcome your most impulsive instincts and took a more measured response. Or did you? It can be hard to tell sometimes whether you're in your right mind. The only thing that matters right now is that nothing is going to stop you.
You meet your first foe with your sickle and miss her with a slash, but just as she ducks backwards you jerk her back towards yourself with telekinesis and turn the hook of the blade over in your hand. One more slash and you carve a hole in her neck, dropping her to the ground. One.
Embryx roars as she dives in, the point of her war-scythe catching another witch as it passes, cutting a bloody gash. The latter raises her wand and fires a lockbreaker, but other than a bright flash of light and heat, it does nothing to affect the plates of the drow's armor. Embryx smashes her in the nose with the shaft of her weapon to back her up, nails her again with the tail end of the polearm, and then, twirling the blade over her head so that it's properly oriented, lets loose a torrent of flame that engulfs her foe. Two.
Another of the witches casts a compulsion to keep Embryx still, but before any of your foes can capitalize, Corrinth fires several strikes to slow them, while you intercept the would-be killer with shadowmancy that grips her from within her own cloak. Corrinth then spots another with a knife and hits her with a compulsion to stab herself in her own neck. And Embryx, now free from the spell, drives her scythe into the nearest foe and then uses a lockbreaker, causing the flesh of the woman's back to explode in a shower of flesh and bone - a fragment of which catches a bystander that was merely cowering from the fight in the eye and kills them.
Three, four, five, six...
A sudden jolt of pain sends you flying from your feet as a blinding light fills your eyes - one of Venza's pact sisters has caught you with a lightning bolt. Rheyah catches you before you can hit the ground and helps you to your feet, fending off several more strikes with her own defensive movements before you regain your senses. Even Raka charges in, having smashed her empty gin bottle to produce an improvised weapon while wielding a wand in her other hand. As Embryx and Corrinth begin to lose their momentum due to their own magic dwindling compared to their fresh foes, Raka and Rheyah bring much-needed support, throwing out strikes, fire, and lightning in equal levels to Venza's lot.
You generate a fresh influx of magic and impart it into your allies, blood trickling from your mouth as you push through the pain of the lightning strike. As if sharing a single mind, they both choose wildshape as their next move, taking on the form of a peryton and a direwolf. The screams of the remaining witches are priceless.
Embryx delivers on her promise to chew the bones of anyone who dares to harm you. Seven... Eight...
Only two remain. You glide past the monsters your coven sisters have become, grinning madly at your two remaining victims. How best to decide how they should suffer for the blood they've spilled of your allies!?
Suddenly, a vivid and sickly green cloud erupts in the air around one of them, and mere moments after she emerges in confusion and horror, her skin and eyes seem to crust over in a sickening display, her scream escaping in a grotesque, dry wheeze as blood and fluid begins to pour from the spidering cracks. By the time she hits the ground, her body is a collapsing, gushing mush that melts and sizzles under the nightmarish effect of the attack. You look to your left and find that it was Syrith herself who did the deed.
"Agranne, we're out of time!" she barks, gesturing with her off-hand at the glassy surface of the portal. "GIVE ME BACK MY SOUL. NOW!"
You had let yourself become so distracted that you almost missed your one chance to revive Rigatte. You shake off the bloodlust that had overcome you and leap into the air, grabbing Syrith as you enter the crimson light. As Raka puts the lone survivor of Venza's lot to sleep with a compulsion, your telekinesis guides you to a gentle stop in the center of the inky pool below, and you feel the resonance that the Eldest told you about. Looking up at the fissure in the cave ceiling gives you a strange vertigo, and the comet which is likely so far from you that you can't possibly fathom it feels as if it's close enough to touch.
You force your eyes away from it and look down, watching as the dark pool begins to illuminate as well, turning a hellish shade of red from the divine light. The glassy surface fades and melts again, leaving nothing but the empty necrotic expanse below and a few shrieking spirits that scatter and hide from the light, their phantom chains jangling behind them. Perhaps, in your dreams, you had been in the possession of a necrotic construct which resembled yourself, much like Syrith had used in your very first meeting. Maybe this is why your most recent awakening had been so painful - by summoning your divine power, even a tiny amount of it, you had created light in the darkness and destroyed the construct you were inhabiting in your dreams.
"Focus, Agranne," Syrith urges. "Look into the comet's light, find my soul, and beckon it home!"
"Shut up. I came all this way; you'll get your soul," you reply. She stares at you in silence while you tip your head back and allow the sensation of the comet's presence to wash over you one more time. Her hand feels cold and clammy in yours, and you quickly release it in disgust, holding her with your magic alone. You hear Embryx' distant calls to you for caution, the Eldest's reply, demanding silence, and you pay both little heed as you find the divine pulse above and speak to it directly. "....COME TO ME!" you shout, and the light intensifies tenfold.
All you see is red; all you feel is pain.
You grapple with the same force that impacted you in Mardenaal last evening, but now with slightly more acumen, and with this skill you part the soul from its divinity and force the former into your counterpart as she groans. "...Thank you, sister..." you hear her gasp against the pressure, and realize that it isn't Syrith expressing her appreciation, but rather, it's nothing less than the dying words of Sharyx as she slips beyond the limits of her own existence. What's left behind is nothing but the goddess, and only the goddess, who abruptly seizes control of her new body's expression - you can't see it, but she extinguishes all evidence of the princess' expiring pains, and instead wears a triumphant grin in defiance of her earlier failures.
And you, lost amidst this crimson canvas, are bathed in the power of creation. You can't even comprehend your divine runes - you sense their presence, but if you try to read them, they're altered before you can finish. It's simply impossible to resist, and, like a apple falling from a tree, it can't help but reach a grounded state only moments after achieving flux - your mortality is destroyed in the path of your gilding, leaving only divinity behind.
It's no longer a mystic's vague prediction, nor a manic, fae-touched, delusional aspiration. This is real.
You are a god.
"Good," Syrith declares, utterly calm and collected. "Now, Agranne, you won't share Sharyx' fate, and we have all the time we need. Nevertheless, give me my divinity so we can be done with this... or at least enough to conduct this ritual. Only I know how to tell Rigatte's soul apart from the masses of sisters I've collected over the millennia. Only I can retrieve Rigatte's soul without destroying it."
The cave slowly comes back into focus, and appears much the same as when you left it. Embryx, Corrinth, and the two you gathered on the way have been knocked back slightly by the sudden release of power, but they're nonetheless still standing, watching in total awe. You look down. Somewhere far below, a million damned spirits swirl and howl in anticipation of your arrival. They're gathering frantically at the fringes of the divine column of light, all sensing what it signifies.
"...How will I know how much is enough?" you demand. "And how can I even trust your answer?"
"Read my mind," she answers, annoyedly.
1. Read Her Mind - You indulge Syrith and gaze into her mind, in order to determine the exact quantum of divine power needed to resurrect your sister.
2. Compel Her - "No, tell me no lies!" you snap. "How much do you need!?"
Option 2: 4 Votes (40% - Range: 11-50)
Option 3: 5 Votes (50% - Range: 51-100)
Fae Roll: 14
...Not that you lack confidence. In fact, you nearly threw the Eldest into the fray just for your own entertainment - before you managed to overcome your most impulsive instincts and took a more measured response. Or did you? It can be hard to tell sometimes whether you're in your right mind. The only thing that matters right now is that nothing is going to stop you.
You meet your first foe with your sickle and miss her with a slash, but just as she ducks backwards you jerk her back towards yourself with telekinesis and turn the hook of the blade over in your hand. One more slash and you carve a hole in her neck, dropping her to the ground. One.
Embryx roars as she dives in, the point of her war-scythe catching another witch as it passes, cutting a bloody gash. The latter raises her wand and fires a lockbreaker, but other than a bright flash of light and heat, it does nothing to affect the plates of the drow's armor. Embryx smashes her in the nose with the shaft of her weapon to back her up, nails her again with the tail end of the polearm, and then, twirling the blade over her head so that it's properly oriented, lets loose a torrent of flame that engulfs her foe. Two.
Another of the witches casts a compulsion to keep Embryx still, but before any of your foes can capitalize, Corrinth fires several strikes to slow them, while you intercept the would-be killer with shadowmancy that grips her from within her own cloak. Corrinth then spots another with a knife and hits her with a compulsion to stab herself in her own neck. And Embryx, now free from the spell, drives her scythe into the nearest foe and then uses a lockbreaker, causing the flesh of the woman's back to explode in a shower of flesh and bone - a fragment of which catches a bystander that was merely cowering from the fight in the eye and kills them.
Three, four, five, six...
A sudden jolt of pain sends you flying from your feet as a blinding light fills your eyes - one of Venza's pact sisters has caught you with a lightning bolt. Rheyah catches you before you can hit the ground and helps you to your feet, fending off several more strikes with her own defensive movements before you regain your senses. Even Raka charges in, having smashed her empty gin bottle to produce an improvised weapon while wielding a wand in her other hand. As Embryx and Corrinth begin to lose their momentum due to their own magic dwindling compared to their fresh foes, Raka and Rheyah bring much-needed support, throwing out strikes, fire, and lightning in equal levels to Venza's lot.
You generate a fresh influx of magic and impart it into your allies, blood trickling from your mouth as you push through the pain of the lightning strike. As if sharing a single mind, they both choose wildshape as their next move, taking on the form of a peryton and a direwolf. The screams of the remaining witches are priceless.
Embryx delivers on her promise to chew the bones of anyone who dares to harm you. Seven... Eight...
Only two remain. You glide past the monsters your coven sisters have become, grinning madly at your two remaining victims. How best to decide how they should suffer for the blood they've spilled of your allies!?
Suddenly, a vivid and sickly green cloud erupts in the air around one of them, and mere moments after she emerges in confusion and horror, her skin and eyes seem to crust over in a sickening display, her scream escaping in a grotesque, dry wheeze as blood and fluid begins to pour from the spidering cracks. By the time she hits the ground, her body is a collapsing, gushing mush that melts and sizzles under the nightmarish effect of the attack. You look to your left and find that it was Syrith herself who did the deed.
"Agranne, we're out of time!" she barks, gesturing with her off-hand at the glassy surface of the portal. "GIVE ME BACK MY SOUL. NOW!"
You had let yourself become so distracted that you almost missed your one chance to revive Rigatte. You shake off the bloodlust that had overcome you and leap into the air, grabbing Syrith as you enter the crimson light. As Raka puts the lone survivor of Venza's lot to sleep with a compulsion, your telekinesis guides you to a gentle stop in the center of the inky pool below, and you feel the resonance that the Eldest told you about. Looking up at the fissure in the cave ceiling gives you a strange vertigo, and the comet which is likely so far from you that you can't possibly fathom it feels as if it's close enough to touch.
You force your eyes away from it and look down, watching as the dark pool begins to illuminate as well, turning a hellish shade of red from the divine light. The glassy surface fades and melts again, leaving nothing but the empty necrotic expanse below and a few shrieking spirits that scatter and hide from the light, their phantom chains jangling behind them. Perhaps, in your dreams, you had been in the possession of a necrotic construct which resembled yourself, much like Syrith had used in your very first meeting. Maybe this is why your most recent awakening had been so painful - by summoning your divine power, even a tiny amount of it, you had created light in the darkness and destroyed the construct you were inhabiting in your dreams.
"Focus, Agranne," Syrith urges. "Look into the comet's light, find my soul, and beckon it home!"
"Shut up. I came all this way; you'll get your soul," you reply. She stares at you in silence while you tip your head back and allow the sensation of the comet's presence to wash over you one more time. Her hand feels cold and clammy in yours, and you quickly release it in disgust, holding her with your magic alone. You hear Embryx' distant calls to you for caution, the Eldest's reply, demanding silence, and you pay both little heed as you find the divine pulse above and speak to it directly. "....COME TO ME!" you shout, and the light intensifies tenfold.
All you see is red; all you feel is pain.
You grapple with the same force that impacted you in Mardenaal last evening, but now with slightly more acumen, and with this skill you part the soul from its divinity and force the former into your counterpart as she groans. "...Thank you, sister..." you hear her gasp against the pressure, and realize that it isn't Syrith expressing her appreciation, but rather, it's nothing less than the dying words of Sharyx as she slips beyond the limits of her own existence. What's left behind is nothing but the goddess, and only the goddess, who abruptly seizes control of her new body's expression - you can't see it, but she extinguishes all evidence of the princess' expiring pains, and instead wears a triumphant grin in defiance of her earlier failures.
And you, lost amidst this crimson canvas, are bathed in the power of creation. You can't even comprehend your divine runes - you sense their presence, but if you try to read them, they're altered before you can finish. It's simply impossible to resist, and, like a apple falling from a tree, it can't help but reach a grounded state only moments after achieving flux - your mortality is destroyed in the path of your gilding, leaving only divinity behind.
It's no longer a mystic's vague prediction, nor a manic, fae-touched, delusional aspiration. This is real.
You are a god.
"Good," Syrith declares, utterly calm and collected. "Now, Agranne, you won't share Sharyx' fate, and we have all the time we need. Nevertheless, give me my divinity so we can be done with this... or at least enough to conduct this ritual. Only I know how to tell Rigatte's soul apart from the masses of sisters I've collected over the millennia. Only I can retrieve Rigatte's soul without destroying it."
The cave slowly comes back into focus, and appears much the same as when you left it. Embryx, Corrinth, and the two you gathered on the way have been knocked back slightly by the sudden release of power, but they're nonetheless still standing, watching in total awe. You look down. Somewhere far below, a million damned spirits swirl and howl in anticipation of your arrival. They're gathering frantically at the fringes of the divine column of light, all sensing what it signifies.
"...How will I know how much is enough?" you demand. "And how can I even trust your answer?"
"Read my mind," she answers, annoyedly.
1. Read Her Mind - You indulge Syrith and gaze into her mind, in order to determine the exact quantum of divine power needed to resurrect your sister.
2. Compel Her - "No, tell me no lies!" you snap. "How much do you need!?"