Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

[K0mori]

Option 1: 4 Votes (36% - Range: 1-36)
Option 2: 7 Votes (64% - Range: 37-100)
Fae Roll: 65

2. Compel Her - "No, tell me no lies!" you snap. "How much do you need!?"

The Eldest doesn't react to your attempt, and as seconds pass in silence, and the portal to the world beyond death churns below your feet, the smile that creeps over her lips freezes the blood in your veins. "...You want to test your will against mine, Agranne? You may be a goddess, but you are not my equal - not yet."

She places her hand on the pommel of her sword as it sits in the scabbard, and a thin wisp rises between her pale fingers. The mind on which you tried to force your will now pushes back, effortlessly overwhelming you as your hand lifts and reaches toward her of its own doing. "What-" you start to react, only to have your words dry up in your mouth, her compulsion denying you any voice to speak with.

Syrith snickers coldly, shaking her head as you float there helplessly. "...Thanks to your unchecked ambitions, the two of us are going to have to learn how to get along," she teases, "or else it's going to be a very, very long eternity for both of us. Sharyx, bless her wayward heart, felt such a visceral dread at the thought that we wouldn't - and that it would destroy all that each of us creates. But she was naive... I don't really care what happens between us, now, Agranne."

"Liar!" Embryx roars. "You were just as afraid that Agranne would burn your Grand Design to the ground. You knew there was a chance she wouldn't even fix your soul, and just leave you to merge with the princess forever!"

You can't move. You want so badly to scream at Embryx to be quiet, and not incur whatever wrath Syrith might be capable of. Come to think of it, why hadn't she just killed you back in Mardenaal? She could've obliterated your soul forever, taken back her divinity, and then called down the comet's power herself. Maybe Sharyx' body wouldn't have survived the influx of divinity... You only survived because Gallanis stopped time. Syrith did it once before, when you were inducted into the coven, but that was using the power of the divinity she left in the afterlife with her necrotic construct... Gah! This is getting complicated! Shut up, Embryx! Just shut up!

Syrith begins to laugh even more cruelly than before, and it only takes you a moment to realize she isn't just laughing at Embryx, but you and your thoughts, as well, and you flush with embarrassment and anger. "...Oh yes, letting my mind be irreversibly tainted by the influence of that girl would've been unpleasant - and I do know that you suggested she not even board the ship to Zuklanar - but thankfully that's in the past, now, and all the timelines in which I languish as a shadow of my former self have passed over harmlessly... like a bad dream! On the other hand, you speak of my Design rather confidently for someone who's never heard it spoken from my lips."

Embryx looks on expectently, almost dumbfounded. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get much of an explanation to the questions on her mind.

"...Not that it would make a difference - it's beyond your mortal faculties to understand - and I do mean that without any offense intended," she concludes.

"So... What?" Corrinth speaks up. "Agranne being a goddess and also hating you isn't a problem anymore, now that you've got your soul back?"

"What's one more goddess to wage war against?" Syrith replies, flippantly, before giving a more honest answer: "...As quickly as it would satisfy my base impulses to compel your friend to give me all of the divinity back that she's stolen from me, and then you and that yappy dog that she's in love with," she mutters, pointing at Embryx, "...I'm not actually in the market for another sworn enemy, and I do realize that this is my one and only chance to show mercy, true mercy, when I have you all in the palm of my hand."

She finally turns back to you, and you feel utterly demoralized. She can only float there because of your magic, which you can't stop casting because you've become nothing but her puppet. You suddenly find your ability to speak restored, and so you use it. Unfortunately, you can't formulate a proper question, and so only two words actually escape you. "Just... What?"

Syrith crosses her arms. "Half," she replies. "...Agranne, I am offering you half of all the divinity that I've amassed over six thousand years of battling the Pantheon, to do with what you will. You'll get your Rigatte back, as I promised from the beginning, and you and your 'friends' leave this place unharmed. The Pantheon will view this as me blundering away half of my power, and it's possible that I've done just that... It remains to be seen. But for now, it will serve to convince them that it's not yet time for Zephimus to unmake the world."

"Why would he do that?" you reply.

"To kill me," she replies, flatly. "Or, more generally, to destroy anything which threatens his primacy over all creation."

Despite your utter resignation, you find the will to smirk at her. "...That sounds like the real reason the Pantheon rejected you," you reply. "You and your mortal friends wanted to overthrow the Pantheon and rule it yourselves."

"You've seen how they rule," she replies, bleakly. "They blame me for their sloth, their inaction. But they were just the same in my time, all those years ago, and with no excuse to make for it."

So she admits it, then. And if what she's saying is true - and you probably ought to take it with a grain of salt - then Zephimus has been considering destroying the world in retaliation for her rebellion, and the similar smaller rebellions it has inspired in the souls of mortals everywhere - your own included. If that's the case, then your role in Syrith's eyes has been similar to what it was in Gallanis' eyes. You were meant to avert this confrontation, and, if all else failed - win it on behalf of one side or the other. "If you're still fighting that war, then there's no way you'd leave me in peace if I have so much divinity."

"I don't care what you do with it, as long as they don't have it," she replies, disgust playing on her brow. She sighs, rubbing her temples. "...Eternity is a long time, Agranne. You might someday come to realize that I've been right all along, and then we'll work together. But that will never happen if I don't turn you loose."

You draw a long sigh to match her level of exhaustion with this discussion.

1. Half, Then - "Fine, it's a deal," you say, knowing that she must be speaking in good faith if she hasn't just compelled you to give up all of your power. You weren't planning on letting the Pantheon take your divinity away, anyway.

2. Silence - You sit in silence, too angry and too heartbroken at your own helplessness to give her an answer. You know that Embryx is watching you, and seeing you shut down. You can't even imagine the sort of fury that's brewing in her for Syrith, but by the time you try to stop her, it'll be too late.

 

[K0mori]

Option 1: 4 Votes (44% - Range: 1-44)
Option 2: 5 Votes (56% - Range: 45-100)
Fae Roll: 88

2. Silence - You sit in silence, too angry and too heartbroken at your own helplessness to give her an answer. You know that Embryx is watching you, and seeing you shut down. You can't even imagine the sort of fury that's brewing in her for Syrith, but by the time you try to stop her, it'll be too late.

As seconds pass without your answer, Syrith's eyes betray a growing uncertainty. You keep waiting for her to lose patience - to take what she wants without your consent, as she's clearly capable of doing. Instead, she hesitates along with you, and you get the sense that she's overwhelmed with yet more visions of the future and where your lack of compromise might lead the two of you. "Agranne...?" she questions, and when it fails to shake a response loose from you, she repeats herself, growing more urgent by the moment. "Agranne!"

This final, almost frantic attempt is echoed by an enraged battle cry.

You look up just in time to catch the glint of light coming off of Embryx' war-scythe as she sprints to the edge of the portal and leaps into the air. She must be trying to break Syrith's concentration so you can break free of her hex - but in all likelihood, Syrith already knows that she's coming and Embryx is about to give her life for nothing!

"NO!" you cry out, but it's no use - you can't even restrain her with telekinesis, because Syrith still has you in her compulsive grip for a moment longer, and you're forced to watch as she turns and whips her blade out of its scabbard, smashing it against the scythe and deflecting its tip away. Embryx' armored body crashes into the goddess, at last giving you a reprieve from the hex that's been keeping you helpless until now. You have no time to think - you pull them in opposite directions as quickly as you can, trying to separate them and bring Embryx back to the safety of solid ground, before Syrith can kill her...

...And only too late do you realize what you've done.

As their collision had brought the two of them so close together that their arms and weapons had encircled the other from the impact, pulling them apart so recklessly led to the war-scythe ripping into Syrith's flank, while her sword met with Embryx' neck just under the jaw and sliced halfway through in a spray of blood. The two drow land on opposite sides of the portal - Syrith staggering and falling to the ground, clutching her side and screaming in pain, while Embryx barely touches the stone floor before her head sags unnervingly and her body collapses like a ragdoll.

"OH GODS!" Corrinth screams, covering her mouth. "AGRANNE!"

You instantly teleport to Embryx' side, forgetting about Syrith and everything you had just been trying to negotiate before, and frantically working to rewrite your divine runes so that you can cast another lifesaving healing spell - just as you did in Mardenaal. Seconds pass... too many seconds. Embryx' blood is gushing onto the cavern floor and all over your hands and boots. Her eyes glaze over as life escapes her in buckets. "...you were right," she mouths silently to you.

...Knowing how I am, it would probably be my fault.

The words crash over you like a tsunami. It's true - Syrith had practically begged you for a truce, and in the split second she had to react, had merely knocked Embryx' blade aside... She hadn't intended to harm her, and it was your mistake which cost your lover and best friend her life. Your magic soon stitches the wound closed as she falls utterly still, and as you take up her lifeless hand and squeeze it, manic, agonized, horrible thoughts flow through you - what self-destructive lengths, what sacrifices you would go to in order to undo your error!

You let go of her, clawing at your head and gouging deep scratches into your own skin as you let loose an agonized scream that reverberates throughout the grotto, down into the endless expanse beyond the portal, so loud that Embryx' dead soul might hear you there. You had imagined this moment before, at your worst moments, but you had always feared it would be an enemy who would steal your love away, or that you would strike her down in the midst of a manic episode. You imagined yourself as an out-of-control maelstrom of vengeance and rage, but now, you hear your voice echoing back to you, and far from your supposed godhood, you hear only the helpless girl you were before your awakening.

Why...? What was the point of any of this!?

A pair of boots set down hard on your side of the portal as Syrith nears you. "What are you doing!?" she blasts in disgust. "When did you give up on yourself!?"

"She's already gone!" you snap, before adding hatefully: "It's just like you told me, and I didn't believe you... I could've had them both back!"

"Idiot!" she spits, holding her sword out so that the tip points at Embryx' lifeless body. A wisp of dark magic slips from the blade and Embryx' body jolts, her chest rising and falling as air fills her lungs once more - a necrotic construct to render her body an empty vessel, ready for a soul. "...Haven't you figured out that the rules of resurrection were my own, and I can change them at any time? Even when I was only capable of granting resurrections every hundred years, I could've allowed for two, three, ten, or a hundred to be revived if I deemed it necessary and fresh vessels were plentiful - but I didn't want my divinity to be wasted on anyone but the very best, whose lives would better serve my goals in this world than the next!"

"Then you're saying we can just grab Embryx out of... there... and put her back in her body?" Corrinth stammers.

Syrith shakes her head. "You two can't do anything useful, here, but I can do it easily, if, and only if Agranne stops playing games and gives me back my-"

"Take it..." You relent. "Take whatever you want, just give them back to me."

Corrinth quickly runs to you, shaking you by the shoulders to get your attention. "Agranne, are you sure you know what you're-"

"Yes. I'm sure," you reply, reaching out to Syrith, whose expression softens a great deal as she locks eyes with you. She places her sword back in its scabbard and places her hand in yours. You aren't sure how to surrender your divinity, and Syrith knows it. Almost immediately, you feel the icy chill of compulsion settle into you as she guides you towards your capitulation. As the power leaves you, you sense a hollowing out - as if the unknowable lengths of your abilities have become measured, and you are something akin to a mortal again - even though you know that you will never be.

And then, the feeling halts. Syrith releases your hand and takes a step back towards the portal. "...There," she declares. "Half - just as I promised."

"You're letting me-" you start to sputter, but then realize that you shouldn't be surprised at all that Syrith honored her terms - she wouldn't have suggested them in the first place if she didn't believe that it was the most advantageous solution for the myriad futures in which you encounter each other again. You shake your head as if to dismiss your earlier disbelief, as you have new questions. "...Why do you trust me with this? What do you still see in my future?"

"...I'm about to set right some of your past mistakes," she replies, bleakly. "Beyond that... I know who you are. You're so much like I was, once, that I don't trust my mysticism any longer. Now, heal my wound, Agranne, before I waste any time on my own runes."

Dumbfoundedly, you oblige her, granting her a healing spell as she draws her sword once more, pointing it at the sleeping sacrifice from Venza's lot, and giving it a gentle tug that rips the soul loose. Another idle twirl, and the body begins to breathe once more. Then, a deep red glow pools in her eyes and at the tips of her fingers, so much more elegantly than you're capable of doing. With a few deft turns of her wrist, she alters the runes of the vessel to impart the divine name of a tabaxi as well as a changeling upon the body. By the time she's finished sculpting the form, and turns her attention to the portal, the vessel is perfect, and you begin to cry.

"Bring the vessel closer, fae," Syrith instructs Corrinth. She then turns to you, and beckons you to join her at the portal's edge.

It's... It's really happening, isn't it?

---

Awakening
​

You stir.

Your body feels stiff and foreign to you as you lay on a hard, stone surface. Your eyes open, and all is dark beyond a gentle, red glow. You turn your head to the source, and gradually six figures emerge from the blur. They're close enough that you could touch them, if you only had the strength to lift your arm, and they're staring at you: a goblin and a tiefling whom you've never seen before... A human girl you're certain isn't really human - Corrinth... Two drow - silver and black like the moon and the heavens at night... Embryx and...? It might as well be the specter of death itself. And... And...

Your eyes fall on Agranne.

Agranne. Oh, Gods. Agranne.

She's been crying, inconsolably, so drained of herself from carrying an impossible burden for so long that you couldn't possibly understand it, but at the very least you can appreciate it, because to some miniscule degree you feel it within yourself. The three years since you left home, the two since your death, and the agonizing wait between visits and bursts of insight into the world of the living have left you exhausted to the point that you hardly know what it is to hope at all anymore, and yet, she's close enough now - no you're close enough now, you can...

You lift your hand and reach to her, but the color isn't what it should be. It's positively ghostly. What have you become? Before you can retract it, and examine yourself, Agranne reaches out to you from where she's seated on this cave floor and grabs onto your hand with both of her own. Her voice croaks some incoherent sound to you, her words lost to her. "...Is it?" she finally forces out.

"Rigatte?" Corrinth asks, crouching down to have a better look at you. You piece together that something must've happened to Embryx, here - something which nearly killed her. The chamber is scattered with the remains of several witches who must have fought her for control of the ritual. Corrinth had been standing in order to give Agranne and Embryx enough personal space to comfort each other. But now, she sees an opportunity to play a role in what's unfolding here, as the color drains from her skin and hair, leaving her the same ghostly white as...

As you - Agranne's put your soul in the body of a changeling. The moment you understand, you come to grips with the otherness in your bones, your muscles, your skin. You know what you should be, and it's only a matter of seconds before your desires manifest themselves, a wonderful tingling feeling running through you as it blooms, until, at last, your hand fits between hers the way it always did before.

"...I- I'm back," you stutter, and your wreck of a sister disappears, a cloud of smoky darkness enveloping the place where she was and the place where she now is, positioned between you and Embryx and trying her absolute damnedest to wrap you both into the same hug. Your wheeling mind can wait, explanations can wait - the world can wait.

All that's ever mattered is this moment.

---
​

Once you've hugged her long enough to be convinced that Embryx and Rigatte's resurrections are real, you finally lift your head. "...I'll tell you everything," you assure your sister, "just... Just give me some time. So much happened."

"It's okay," Rigatte replies. "...I can't believe you really did it," she says.

You swallow hard. "Yeah..."

"...How did you do it?" Embryx asks gently.

You answer her question without regards to the fact that it will reveal that her sacrifice had been in vain. "Syrith did it... I took the deal."

"Syrith?" Rigatte repeats, looking to the others in confusion. Syrith stares down at her from above, silently and intensely, and your sister's eyes widen immediately in alarmed understanding. "Oh..." she gasps.

Embryx bares her teeth at the Eldest. "You used my death to manipulate her?"

"You weren't supposed to die at all - that was purely your own doing! I made her a god at my own expense - all that I promised, I delivered," she replies coldly. "What would you have preferred I do instead?" She snaps before turning her attention back to Rigatte. "You... I give you my word that I have no further intentions for you-"

"Did you say my sister is a god!?" Rigatte explodes.

You shrug, helplessly. "I told you I'd explain as soon as I could...!"

A long discussion ensues, and by the end of a half hour, Rigatte fully understands what took place since your last conversation, and it begins to dawn on everyone that at some point, likely in the very near future, you will be confronted by Zephimus and the gods of the pantheon in order to answer for your actions. All throughout, Syrith remains quiet and brooding, either lost in memories of ages past, or plotting something for the future. You genuinely hope that you won't become so estranged from the present moment as you adjust to your new role as a divine being.

But as the conversation comes to a conclusion, Syrith finally speaks again.

"Agranne," she says with a coldness that unnerves you, "If I had correctly predicted that we would need more than one vessel, I'd have prevented you from killing off Venza's circle. This portal will only function if I'm present, and so this is our only opportunity to resurrect the fallen, at least for a long time."

You look at her sideways. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you have two other vessels," she says, placing her hand on the pommel of her sword and compelling Raka and Rheyah into silence and stillness.

1. Inexcusable - You think of the people you've known and lost throughout your adventure, and what their absence has done to you and your allies. As much as it pains you, you couldn't possibly excuse sacrificing two bystanders to have them back. You shake your head. "...Just let them go," you reply.

2. Do What You Will - You have more than two friends that you wish you could revive, and don't want to be burdened with the guilt of choosing. At the same time, you don't particularly care about the fates of your two last-minute allies. "It's your ritual; revive who you want," you reply, blandly. "...Just not Diala, alright?"

3. One More Evil Act - (Players: Choose two of the following for another chance at life: Kulka, Ika, Stalna, Veralt)