#and they use the same sacred magic that you possess and that they have taught you to try to capture you and set traps in your way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceristhehedgehog2 · 2 years

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Alright, So I have given you information based on Lunar Andhera the Arctic Wolf. Her Backstory? Check! Her personality? Check!

What am I missing..?

Ah, her abilities.

That is what we'll be discussing today/tonight.

Lunar Andhera is the young reincarnation of the former Moon Ancient, Xelune. In turn, she would inherit the abilities of her sacred artifact: the Moonstone. A manifestation of the Moon's spirit and energies. What kind of power could this young wolf possess as its Guardian?

Well, it's settled between two things:

1. The Understanability of Life&Death.

2. The Recognization between Appearances&Reality.

These are very important teachings for Lunar to educate as a child throughout the years. Mostly because her power by the moon is represented by change, illusion, mystery and intuition. All of these traits were something that she had to recognize.

The moon has its own influence on her power. Therefore, it can affect Lunar differently by each phase. Some phases make her weaker while others make her stronger. There is a time her power is at its fullest, and other at its closure. Her abilities have different sets despite them coming from one power source altogether, holding their own meaning in her education:

Illusions and hallucinations represent the idea for Lunar to recognize that they come from the mind's perspective between individuals themselves. While at the same time, they can represent her own image of the idea of another person.

Her projective hexes are themed to let the emotion within her to flow like a river over stone, meaning Lunar must let her emotions express freely if she wished to conquer her desire to fight.

Cloaking and Invisibility is for Lunar to embrace the fact that its okay to hide, even when she is at a moment of expression. That sometimes it IS okay to handle things alone without too much teamwork to put it off.

Moonlit Eyes, the purified moonlight shed before her very... eyes, take on the means to transform from all the old and begin anew feeling. A new thought. A new hope. To change for the better.

And by each lesson learned— let's take notes on how each ability has assest her both emotionally and during battle sequences.

First, her most notable magical skill she has used would be her Illusions. Lunar can create manifested, solidary copies of one individual to another in some extent. This can only work on people who she can recognize their strengths and weaknesses to. Team Sonic is a notable aspect, as she had been able to make and manipulate illusionary copies depending on the lengths of a situation. An illusion of Knuckles or Amy can be used to break through solid exterior while Sonic can be used as a backup when out of bounce. She has used her illusions to manipulate others as well to gain her or the needs of someone else.

An evolved ability Lunar had mastered was an umbra spell that would allow the target to see things SHE wants them to under her influence. This will distract her opposing target and leave them open for her surprise prick from a raindrop— A sleeping spell! One that will take an enemy out by an instant. With enough focus, that is.

This can only lead her so far, as when the illusion has taken damage— Lunar's cover would be blown. Potentially exposed to backfire.

Secondary, Lunar can use an umbra ritual to summon her projected projectiles and fire! These projections are known as Moondrops, flow like water— but freezing as ice by touch.

Third, she has learned to master her Invisible Cloaking while in her stage of the In-Between: Life&Death. A topic that is certainly a lesson all throughout the Moon-Howls Pack. It's a unique assest that hides Lunar away from the physical contact of others. Away from drama. Perhaps even from being near anyone in a bad mood. Master Alatar had taught her that it's alright to be alone often. She doesn't have to be up to perfection in the crowd— because it doesn't exist. There IS no perfection in Moon Magic. What's important, she doesn't have to rely on anyone. Too much, at least.

If she never learns to understand that, Lunar would never gain the true understandment of Independence. And that could leave her into trouble when alone.

Fourth, and most rare, Moonlit Eyes. The rare occurring form of Lunar's magic. Only because she needs the highest level of moonlight can she access its full potential and accessibility. This form of magic, is the symbolism of hope. For Lunar to even USE this form— She must grasp on hope. No matter how big or how small. The young wolf had witnessed a change that influenced her life forever; she watched her family being taken from her at a young age. It killed her inside. She felt nothing but shame and despair. Yet, Ski mentioned that she mist keep one thing of all else... Hope. To change for the better future. For a better life. A better Era. Where no unfairness shall rule the land.

If Lunar loses that hope... she cannot in any other form use the Moonlit Eyes at all. Despair can only lead to her demise...

And finally, Fifth...

Dreamscape and In-Between. The most nocturnal duties as Guardian of the Moonstone, Lunar has authority out from the Physical Planes— into the unreal. The fantasy. The dreaming. The dead. Very difficult worlds to enter, she must perform two sets of rituals to unlock one gate of the world she seeks. These worlds have their own ritualistic dance. Their own inhabitants. Their own living between heaven and hell.

The Dreamscape is where the fantasies of the mind blossom to life. Where dreams of many leave many fruitatious wishes and desires awaken. Everyone of those dreams are guarded and watched by Lunar, and only her. Unless... something dares to take it out of line.

Ominous Beings. Soulless creatures of shadow. Embodied by no life, nor death. They are but empty husks that hunger for fresh dreams. They are like hungry dogs that Lunar had to tame. She allows them to feed on dreams but only for so long. If they get out of line— they were to be stopped and eliminated before they would make further damage of the dreamer's fragile psyche. Its a big toll for her. Big dreams comes big responsibilities.

The In-Between. The two paths of Life and Death. Heaven or Hell. They are two with their own sides of a coin. These separate paths hold their own gate that separates them for various reasons. Safety, was most important in these paths of the Dream Walkers.

Right path is the Underworld: A dark bleak graveyard where all evil detities and souls reside and are locked away after death. Ones who have dared to enter such path have been viciously attacked by the Undead Spirits. Some even possessed. Or mentally broken. This was once a path Lunar had been forbidden from going, as Master Alatar knew the dangers against a young wolf as her own. Training of this path was slow yet cautious. The Undead were like sharks preying for their meal. It wasn't a meal from the living they wanted... it was their own life source they so longed to steal.

Thanks to Lunar's Moonlit Eyes, it had given her an easy advantage upon walking through the Underworld. She choosed not to go there as much. If she did planned to go... let's just hope Lunar had been prepared.

And then, the left path of the Stars. The Stars is a heaven for all good-willed spirits. Most of them, her ansestors. An astral world of peace, yet formed in one counsel when dire situations called to the young Moon Wicca. They only meet together when a vision has occured, and the potential future is at steak. Lunar has numerously met with the Star Beings so often, and most are not easily agreeable. They had to be swayed through some manner in order to be pleased by Lunar's own decisions. In the end, they only wish to help keep world balance. To keep the world thriving.

As long as the Star Beings can be satisfied with the decisions Lunar makes to mediate Team Sonic in saving the world— they'll assist with all the guidance they have. Very persuasive, huh?

😮‍💨 Okay, I think I explained enough— What do you guys think? I hope I was descriptive enough! I love all yellow Tumblr people and I shall visit tomorrow! Chao! ☾

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Crash-course for all the evidence of Will creating the mindflayer/upsidedown

* Honestly I’ve talked about this stuff in my did theories- where I explained how the upsidedown/mf/ the lab subjects/ and russians all connect back to Will creating them. But since so may people assume that Will got his powers from the upsidedown/mf rather than Will creating it all subconsciously (with his powers). Thought i’d do a short analysis of just that connection (without boggling it down with those other plot lines that are interconnected) . *So I’m not mentioning the lights -because it interconnects with the numbers/lab.I’m just going to list every example in short succession from every season for brevity’s sake (so it won’t be structured as eloquently as prior analyses).

refresher of how Will influences the mf/upsidedown ...

S1)

Will ( in s1e1) says to Dustin if he could have any comic it would be the xmen. Dustin later says "do you think - el was born with her powers like the xmen? " Will plays a d&d game saying the demogorgan got him -so it does irl. Will writes stories where bad guys weakness are fire so the mf/ demogorgans are lit on fire in s1-3 (and it's their weakness). Will watches poltergeist so Will is forced to be the child character in that film- who was trapped in a alternative dimension and could only speak to their mother through tech. The demogrgan is said to resemble a shark by nancy-mathcing Will’s Jaws movie poster in his room. in s1 Mr clarke describes the vale of shadows (later the upsidedown) as being created by “necrotic” (’dead’-zombie boy) and “shadow” (shadow monster/mf) “magic”. In d&d the Vale of Shadows, is as a lush valley hidden in the mountains that holds a sacred pool with the power to make dreams reality. In d&d the demogorgan is literally called the "deep father" in d&d Nancy also says the demogorgan is like a “lion” the meaning of the name Lonnie- is literally “lion”. We see it attack Will when using lonnie's gun (in lonnie's shed). And it knocks the bat out of Jonathan's hand too. (Baseball/hunting were taught by their dad lonnie). The demogorgan also hurts a deer- mirroring Jonathan's story about how Lonnie forced him to kill a rabbit and how this upset him as he was a fan of the rabbit character from the film bambi.. El when she first sees the demogorgan also sees it eating it’s own eggs-aka symbolically the father hurting his own children. Will's password for cb is rhadagast a wizard who protects Wildlife (the opposite of Hunter-lonnie/the demogorgan).

Duffers cited as inspo the silent hill videogames): And in s1 Hopper named dropped the character Alessa’s last name. “The bad guys faked Alessa’s death. Kaufmann prepared a substitute body of alessa; and performed the fake autopsy (like Will) . Alessa had precognition (future/intuition-like will the wise is said to have in s3) and pyrokinesis (firepowers mentioned Will the wise has in s1). Alessa’s latent psychic abilities are triggered and she shrouds Silent Hill in fog and an altered reality to prevent her ab*sive parent’s schemes from advancing. Many of the drastic changes that befall the town in the game, such as the horrific creatures that come to inhabit it, are conjured from her imagination and delusions. “

Will also says in s1ep1 he wants xmen 134-about the dark phoenix saga. ‘dark phoenix’ - has pyrokinesis ( fire powers-like Will the wise). And the dark phoenix also “was able to warp reality on a universal scale”. One of the phoenix’s host was even the god Thor (god of lightning-an element Will is associated with a lot in s2)

(in s1 Will also spit up a slug- in d&d putting a slug in a humanoid can create/turn that humanoid into a mf. foreshadowing Will being posessed/becoming the mf in s2. ).

S2)

Will plays digdug (a videogame about underground tunnels) so the mf creates tunnels. Will's dog dies so demogogans become demo-dogs. He also watches Ghostbusters- where a character is possessed by the ‘gate keeper’ and can control demon dogs. So this happens to Will too -similar to s1 with poltergeist .In s1 , Hopper even mentions the book Cujo about a violent dog, who is replaced by a new dog named ‘Willie’ (to allude to this).In s1 we see Mike holding a drawing of Will’s- where Will's wizard has lightning powers (coming from his hand). everytime Will uses tech in s1, the phones explode and lighting appears out of them- hopper makes a BBQ joke about the burned phones.later in s2 the mf has these same lightning abilities and the lab technician makes the same BBQ joke.Joyce even describes the tunnels of the mf/ that Will’s draws as “like lightning.” We also see the russians eviserated by lightning next season too.

A lab tech calls Will a wizard-and they monitor his brain waves, record him on video, just like they did to El .(when the mf first appears at Will’s house- the lab techs even notice ). The drawing of the mf is next to a baseball (Lonnie ref) and Will says it was a drawing for a story he wrote. In s2 Nancy describes the mindflayer (but she’s actually describing Will).“So this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything.”Because it’s not the mindflayers’ brain - it’s Will’s brain controlling everything. ( a “hive mind” aka the mf/WILL share a brain ). Owens in s2e1 (BEFORE the mf possession) says Will's ‘anniversary affect’ would make him remember “tra*matic memories” and “OPEN the neurological flood GATES” (aka Will’s neurological GATES are the gates between the real world and upsidedown - which are connected to the mf).

Owens in s2e1 (after mentioning the “gates”) even says Will's ‘anniversary affect’ / “tr*umatic memories” would cause temporary “personality changes”for Will (the later mf possession) . I mean... Owens wasn’t entirely wrong was he? Will even feels the back of his neck in s2 and says it has to do with “memories” ...and in s3 feeling the back of his neck meant Will was sensing the mf. Similarly, before his possession-mr clarke mentions phineus gage who after an accident had a “complete change to his personality” (and the shot pans to Will).

Nancy even calls the mind flayer the “mind-flamer”- hinting at it’s connection to Will the wise who has fire powers). And Dustin says the mf “takes over minds with it’s highly developed psyionic abilities “ And to “summon an undead army... cause the mindflayer loves brains ” ( and in s3 the mf creates a undead army by taking over people’s brains). Hopper even says “So how do we kill this thing shoot it with fireballs ?” (which destroys the flesh-monster in s3) ”

S3)

Will (the “zombie boy”) writes a story about juju zombies after watching a film about zombies at starcourt in s3 - then the mf creates a undead army -which was also foreshadowed in s2 (and similar to Will’s s3 d&d story). We also see Will wrote this d&d story in front of "the thing" poster. So the mf creates a flesh monster resembling the creature in that film too. We also see someone get bit (el) like in Will's story and when his friends retcon his ending to be about “sacrificing themselves via explosion (Hopper).” Will just says “fine you win” (so it ends that way).Also, the shadow monster is now called the Mindflayer - and mimics the mf from d&d (both can control rats with their powers in the show/game).

Will in s2-3 grabs the back of his neck and he attributed it to “memories”, “dreams”, and sensing the mf. Will created castle byers after his dad left and he grabs the bat in cb which was next to the Will the wise drawing (similar to how the baseball was next to the mf drawing in s2) and destroys cb with said bat . Then Will touches his neck and admits the mf has returned. EVERY moment Will senses the mf can be loosely connected to Lonnie. Lonnie used to call him h*mophobic sl*rs so anytime he subconsciously thinks of his feelings towards Mike the mf appears-1st time it’s on one of their ‘movie dates’, 2nd time when Mike and El walk off together down the hill to make-out, 3rd time right after he smashed castle byers after Mike says “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, 4th time (after the fight with Mike) when Billy is yelling to open the door (a trigger) and confides in Mike, 5th time when Mike asks him to go away so he can talk to El in the hospital waiting area, and 6th time when Mike says he loves El. The 7th time is when Jonathan is fixing up a car -something Lonnie used to do.Lonnie fixes up cars as a hobby-showing his remodeled car to Jonathan in s1 . Will then senses the mf and grabs his neck-which he said are connected to old “memories”. max and Mike are silent until Jonathan says says “got it (the distributor)”. Then Mike screams for his older sibling. We also see in s1 Jonathan checked to see if Lonnie threw Will in his trunk- something the mf does to some of his victims in s3.

Dustin and susie sing “never ending story”- which is literally about a seemingly normal boy named Sebastian with a bowl cut (from a single parent home) subconsciously making a fantasy world being invaded by a dark force (representing the loss of hope/dreams) that only his imagination powers can fix . “make believe i’m everywhere ... what you dream will be...Rhymes that keep their secrets Will unfold behind the clouds.And there upon a rainbow Is the answer to a never ending story” . Cough-Will’s rainbow ship he CREATED.Both times the lyric plays “Rhymes that keep their secrets WILL “ ( it pans to Will).

The film also follows a false chosen one who everyone says is supposed to save fantasia- named Atreyu (el). Specifically, for that plotwist that Sebastian (Will) has to be the one to do so , not Atreyu (who sebastian subconsciously created). In the novel/film-Atreyu ( the child who was deemed the ‘chosen one) is knocked from Falkor’s back, and into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins.

“There Gmork (The Mindflayer) reveals himself, having been lying in wait.And then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s leg.”

-Before the duet, Susie tells dusin she’s reading “ a wizard of earthsea” and says ged is about to save his world. The book is about a boy-wizard named Ged (Will) who casts a powerful spell, but the spell goes awry and instead he releases a shadow creature! The new Archmage, Gensher, describes the shadow as an ancient evil that wishes to possess Ged. But the ‘shadow’ turns out to be a representation of the darkest aspects of his personality. And the only way for the world to be saved is for the 2 to merge and for Ged to accept himself .

-Will says he’s a wizard ( writing on a music tape in s3 “will the wise-wizard mix’ and having his password for castle byers be ‘rhadaghast’- a lotr wizard). The way they describe d&d Wizards matches Will/mindflayer perfectly “Wizards are adepts and magicians who combine according to the type of their spells. Relying on the subtle weaves of magic that permeate the universe, wizards are able to create spells of explosive fire, sparking lightning, subtle deception, and gross mind control. Their magic summons monsters from other planes of existence, predicts the future, and turns defeated enemies into zombies. Their most powerful spells can transform one substance into another, summon meteors from the sky, and open portals to other worlds” (all these powers Will the wise/mf are implied to have)

- Stranger things d&d comic (published post s3) : Will creating a illusion army of monsters -as Will the wizard.

- stranger writers twitter reffed several movies which discuss artist/writer WILLiam Blake who helped make the art exhibit “worlds turned upsidedown”

possible reason for the flayed eating chemicals& fertilizer (in s3)

full link/credits here. Lonnie’s gf has a biker shirt from Harley davidson- with the eagle logo and their saying “live to ride’. Which would imply lonnie is also in such biker circles. Harley davidson in the 80s had dr*g gangs too (primarily m*th).

One reason m*th is so prevalent in rural areas is that it can be formulated, or “cooked,” by small producers and one of the ingredients is readily found on most farms – anhydrous AMMONIA fertilizer. Both farmers and chemical suppliers have experienced thefts of anhydrous particularly in the Midwest.“

WHICH REMINDS ME OF the FLAYED EATING FERTILIZER AND CHEMICALS IN S3 . Nancy even says farmers/chem suppliers are having fertilizer stolen! And she later thinks flayed tom was on drugs- “A mysterious case of the missing fertilizer- a Nancy Drew Mystery”. This is also in the same season one character (who looks a bit like Lonnie) is a biker is corrupting the town.

Will creating /basing the supernatural from suppressed memories -means it’s from a very young child’s perspective . young Will would equate people eating chemicals, ammonia fertilizer, and ammonia... to using those SAME chemicals to create m*th and then physically consuming them . Why we see mrs driscoll eating fertilizer & Billy drinking ammonia.

The reason the flayed started behaving differently is probably because in s2 Will was forcibly injected with a needle & woken up with ammonia by Hopper-jogging some of those old memories.

EVEN Nancy’s proof Tom is on dr*gs is a symptom of m*th use or withdrawl from it-excessive sweating (like all the flayed in s2-3). M*th causes hyperthermia (body is at a higher temp than usual)-so they like it cold!!!!! Even clammy hands that she mentioned is a symptom of m*th use. in children it can even cause seizures- like Will :(

And when m*th is made via fertilizer it first is made into a highly corrosive liquid which is sometimes green-like the Russian lab.“six pounds of toxic waste is created for every pound of m*th manufactured. The waste is often dumped on farms, in rivers and and is harmful to the environment.” Like all the chemical leaks relating to Hawkins lab/mf that affected the crops in s2/this pic of water in s3.

m*th was even called ‘bathroom crank’-which is sketchy given the bathtub is what mf fears and how the sensory deprivation tank is also called a ‘tub’ by el . Becky even said Brenner would get terry high and throw her in the tank/tub.

It also does take some chemisty knowledge to COVERT various substances (including fertilizer and other chemicals) to make m*th- which reminds me of the kids saying they can convert one substance into another (when explaining why the possessed are eating chemicals)- they say they’re making a new chemical “in themselves”

other hints

Will’s b day is march 22 . Which is when “fire burns most brightly” and his ‘birthday number is number 7′ (”it was a 7 the demogorgan it got me′) . The number 7 is specifically associated with “wisdom and psychic abilities”. His b day even adds up to 7 (3+2+2).His horoscope is also influenced by the shadow god-ketu (who is also associated with wisdom and psychic abilities too).

* There’s way more details/depth/ other st inspirations in my DID analyses -specifically pt 2. (where i discuss how the mf/upsidedown connects to the numbers/russians- and also specifially Will).But this is just a crash course about the flayed/upsideown/it’s creatures connect to Will.

People will dismiss all of this as just the Duffers liking to reference random things they like/ and foreshadow via d&d without any in universe reason. but I really think that’s a disappointing explanation/outcome. Especially the predictable cliche theory that the mf is just experiment #1. Not only is it boring, cliche, and predictable af- but it doesn’t line up as well with the mental health themes mentioned in ever season.Will created everything via tr*uma cause of his dad- and overcomes this: is not only a “twist” that will make rewatching more enjoyable given all the hints- it’s more narratively sound given how much the series touches on themes such as overcoming tra*ma, mental health, and problematic fathers. The #1/ex experiment=mf theory doesn’t explain why they made the supernatural connect to Will in this way . And with such a boring cliche ending it would quickly be forgotten like other big sci-fi/fantasy shows that quickly lost relevancy after being popular: like heros, g.o.t, etc.One makes the show cliche another makes it remembered for decades (ex: jacob’s ladder).

#will byers #stranger things #byler #byeler #stranger things theory #did theory

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makapatag · 3 years

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Balay Karunongan

For all your Fire Emblem Three Houses/RWBY/Harry Potter/Naruto/Persona needs. This is written with Gubat Banwa in mind, does not have strict game mechanics.

In the 199th Year of the Skysea War, in the hinterlands of the Lakanate’s land borders, where it touches the hunting grounds of Bayi, five siyak came together to establish a mistake.

They called it Balay Karunongan, the House of Wisdom. With the help of Datu Padakar, a Datu under the Kaponoan of Bayi, they managed to create a grand Balay that opened its doors to the children of Datu across the entirety of Kitatak.

It was a house that taught how to kill.

Over time, it grew in size. The original five-floored dakbalay gained annexes that went all the way down the mountain it was built upon. Behind it arose a bamboo pagoda, attached to the giant nunuk that anointed the area as a sacred place.

Princes and Princesses of Datu, even if they be binukot, usually from 16 harvests and beyond are put in here for a total of 5 years. They are taught in the ways of war, combat, battle, tactics, strategy, and, if they have the talent for it, offensive magic and sorcery.

The students are assigned a particularly colored saob-saob, an open gown, to denote their year. They can wear almost anything underneath. Jewelry is encouraged. Fashionable takes on the saob-saob and clothing is encouraged due to the cutthroat student culture of the House of Wisdom, wherein social standing among nobles is fought over.

White/Undyed Saob-saob are given to first years.

Brown saob-saob are given to second years.

Black saob-saob are given to third years.

Indigo saob-saob are given to fourth years.

Crimson saob-saob are given to fifth years, and is a sign of graduation.

The colder climate in the mountains has allowed for more elaborate and layered outfits from the nobles, much to their delight, which has allowed them to create elaborate fashion.

A Concordance

In the 212th Year of the Skysea War, the Balay was assaulted by the Lakanate. The five Grand Siyak managed to repel the invasion attempt with the help of their friends from Bayi, as well as the well-taught and disciplined students of the balay, which has begun to incorporate foreign martial techniques into their studies as well.

Impressed, Huwan Rekno promised to stop assault attempts if the Siyak will accept nobles from the Lakanate. Seeing this as a compromise to keep the balay alive, they agreed. Thus, the Balay has become a household for Datu and nobles from the Lakanate to bring their children there to make them even more skilled and powerful, to secure their lineages and royalty.

The Balay Karunongan, while officially not following any particular polity, is now under being afforded gifts and hosted feasts by all across the archipelago, in hopes of gaining the balay’s allegiance. Both Bayi and the Lakanate know however that the Balay will not give its allegiance to anyone not them, since they are in a particularly difficult position to not choose from either of them.

Cut Throats

The students are taught in all forms of warfare, not only in its physical aspect, but also in its social and mental aspects. Manipulating the enemy, forcing a raid, attacking during the morning, retreating when you’ve gotten what you need. This has caused an internal political mandala within the Balay, exacerbated only by the Five Clan allegiances established by the Siyak themselves.

Mimicking their parents, each class has a Datu, who has his own gang of right-hand men that is the Sandig. It is, however, a simplified version of the political composition of the outside world. Each Datu has an Attendant, their closest secretary and ally, as well as their steward. Along with the Attendant, their Sandig is made up of a Sword, that is a sort of sheriff. A Warhorn, that is the one that gives news to the rest of the class. Finally a Staff that gives counsel and wisdom to the Datu.

Those in the class are thus treated as freedmen would be treated in the outside world, despite being noble born themselves.

Each class, across all the five years, regularly war against each other. Each Year has an overlord that reins in and keeps order among the Datu in their Year. Similarly to the outside world’s society, these are called Kaponoan. The Datu follow after the Kaponoan as a freedman would follow after a Datu.

Every end of the year, the Kaponoan for the next year is determined by an Interclass Tournament known as the Paligsahan ng Hari (Competition of Kings). There five of the best fighters from each of the five classes within a year compete to be the next Kaponoan. This is usually the Datu of each class, but doesn’t always have to be.

This is almost always held in front of the Gubat Nunuk, the war pagoda tree, that is sacred to the entire house. The Paligsahan is constantly considered to not only be a tournament, but also a worship ritual as well as a divination ritual. Whoever comes out on top is almost always uncontested, even if they used underhanded means to mean.

The ancestors always know.

Outcasts

There are times when an actual timawa or even an oripun might make it into the school. Usually, due to their inability to wear rich finery and jewelry, they will be cast out. One way or another, their non-nobleness is found out. These students are known as patapon, or trash. The patapon usually must work harder to become Datu, but becoming a Datu is usually something decided among the freedmen within a class, so the only real chance in power that a patapon has is through the Paligsahan.

Limang-Talulot, The Five Clans

Limang Talulot, translated to Five Petals, are the five clans within the house established by the Five Grand Siyak. These were established by the siyak to encourage competition as well as help students find like-minded friends. The Five Clans are organized according to their specialty in war. Each of the five clans are modeled after a specific Balaanghayop, or Holy Beast.

Additionally, the Clan that you end up in will influence the classes you take beginning from the second year up to the fifth, as these are more or less considered as specializations in war.

During the first year, there are things called Clan Jams, wherein the five clans try their best to entice new students to join them. This usually ends up with a couple of deaths, much to the teacher’s chagrin. The Aso are prone to showcasing duels to the death. The Uwak is prone to summoning untold powers from realms unknown. The Salindayaw lets themselves be possessed by diwata in a blasphemous paganitu. The Banoy hosts drunken revelries where everyone is treated as royalty. The Musang is prone to kidnapping students and bringing them to their booths, where they are given nice gifts actually.

Aso ni Dakim

The clan that follows the martial tenets of Siyak Dakim, with an emblem that is the head of a hunting dog. The Aso, with their motto of “Rip and tear until the sky is broken!” are often called “Fucking dogs” derogatorily, especially by those of the Kuwago ni Pitukil. Those that end up in the Aso ni Dakim are usually those that prize martial ability above all else, and seek to overpower all the other clans by sheer skill in violence and fighting.

Siyak Dakim is the Eskrimador sa Daghang Armas, “The Eskrimador of Myriad Weapons”, so called due to his skill in turning anything he touches into weapons.

Those in the Aso ni Dakim are mandated to always carry an implement to kill.

Uwak ni Itomsiga

The clan that follows the occult and sorcerous tenets of Siyak Itomsiga, with an emblem that is a crow picking on its own feathers. The Uwak, with their motto of “Know what should not be known.” are often derogatorily referred to as “magna”. Which is a shortened version of “magnanakaw”, which means thief or stealer. Most Uwak are not actual thieves, but they are known to always get what they want, even it be from other people. hose that end up in Uwak ni Itomsuga are those enraptured by the thought of impossibility, and have an unholy thirst for knowledge, even if it be forbidden.

Siyak Itomsiga is known as the Mambabarang sa Lawom nga Sulad, “Sorcerer of Deep Hell”, so called due to her skill in knowing seemingly forbidden spells and using it upon those that invoke her ire.

Those in the Uwak ni Itomsiga are mandated to always carry a trinket with a bamboo bark. Upon it is a mentala, which they can utter to instantly cast a protective spell. Once used, it burns up, and they must create another before the next morning.

Salindayaw ni Hilomng Kabai Balaang Alaag

The clan that follows the spiritual and pious tenets of Siyak Hilomng Kaba Balaang Alaag, usually just referred to Alaag. Their emblem is that of a deer with horns that rotate to form undulating mandalas. The Salindayaw, with their motto of “Until all are one under the same sky,” are often derogatorily referred to as “Boang sungay”, which means crazy horns. Believed due to the initial impression of them being peaceful flower-smellers who think harmony can be achieved simply with words. Of course, they themselves know this is not true. Those that end up in the Salindayaw are usually those that hold nature to a high esteem, or see fighting simply as a mean to peace, instead of being something to strive for itself. They value harmony, and almost always side with the decision that would cause the least amount of disharmony with nature.

Siyak Hilomng Kabai Balaang Alaag is known as the Mapasipalahong Manluluwas, “Blasphemous Savior” due to their ability to heal even those that seem to have been killed or have died, and once doomed an entire island to Di Hiyang due to the act of resurrecting an entire haop of more than a thousand households.

Those in the Salindayaw ni Alaag always bring with them a wreath of mulawin flowers, santan, gumamela, waling-waling, and sampaguita, to remind them of their responsibility and duty to nature.

Banoy ni Sri Bayisaalak

The clan that follows the royalty of Sri Bayisaalak, otherwise known as The Bayi or the Wine Maiden. Their emblem is that of a crowned Philippine eagle. The Banoy, with their motto “To ascend past heaven!” are often derogatorily referred to as “Datu-Datuhan”, which means “playing Datu”. At first glance, those of the Banoy are prone to power tripping and issuing orders. Those that end up in the Banoy are usuall those that take upon themselves the hard responsibility of leading or guiding, and are taught a great number of philosophies.

Siyak Sri Bayisaalak is known as the Hubog nga Emperadora, “Drunk Empress”. It is not a secret that Sri Bayisaalak is actually a diwata, one of Ang Daghan. Specifically, she is one of the many minor Langitnon. She is the Langitnon of Royalty, who cloaked upon herself mortality so that she may teach royalty, leadership, and civilization for the rest of the world. Unfortunately, she also has a penchant for alcohol. She is the lesser known wife of the God of Civilization Munsad Buralakaw.

Those in the Banoy are required to bring around a porcelain jarlet filled with wine and taselled with a banoy’s feather.

Musang ni Aninong Kislap

The clan that follows the subterfuge and informational tenets of Siyak Aninong Kislap. Their emblem is a shadowed musang. The Musang, with their motto, “The sun casts shadows,” they are derogatorily termed “Ay giatay--” due to their predecessor’s penchant to appear and disappear unexpectedly. Those that end up in the Musang are usually those that do the hard jobs of subterfuge, surveillance, and infiltration, which is a well sought after skill in Kitatak’s valuing of raids and ambushes when it comes to war.

Siyak Aninong Kislap is well known as, well, Aninong Kislap, “The Shadowy Spark”. None know his true name. He is often wrapped in robes and saob-saob. None see his true face, his true hands. Many say that he is also one of Ang Daghan: a Suladnon of Many Faces. None can confirm this.

Those in the Musang are given shawls that can be worn around the head as a hood, the neck as a scarf, or the waist as a sarong.

If people are interested I’d follow this up with another post that details a few more school activities, a school calendar, and a table for staff and students.

#gubat banwa #filipino #precolonial #fantasy #mythology #folklore #writing

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nikkywrites · 3 years

Text

Plum Wine Reunion

Prompt: "You have no proof" || Fictober Day 2

Warnings for (pretty vague) mentions of murder and death.

This prompt was a pain. Can you tell I stared blankly at my laptop screen before going "heck with it, here's this" with the title? Hope you all like it!

*****

The worst place for a sorceress to be is in nobility's presence.

Kael's dress feels like a beacon, a red rich like fire. Bidding all to look beneath the tight-bodiced silk to recognize the spark in her heart. To recognize the sanctity of her blood and capture her so they may take it for themselves. She feels eyes settle on her, the bold color, the way her skirt floats out on the soft evening breeze, as if waving them all closer.

She's looking to be found, though. It's the reason she's come.

The mourning period of her father's untimely death is over, an accident too coincidental to be so, for his body had been leached of blood. An odd thing, if he was human, but a blaring signal of danger for a sorcerer. Their blood was like light and was worth more than silk or salt or gold. Drops gifted those ungifted with sacred blood all the power it had to offer. All the power a sorcerer could use it for.

The talent, after all, lied in the blood and not the person. Having it in a stranger's hands was dangerous. Terrifying.

She grips the delicate glass of dark plum wine in her hand lightly, smiling reassurance at the Duchess smitten with her father who had gotten her in the gates and who believed in the public truth of her father's death. She does not know that he was killed, does not know that he was a sorcerer, does not know that Kael possesses his same gifted blood. Does not know that she is here, hoping to be cornered by a killer.

She'd hardly pieced the truth together herself.

If she had not gotten the few moments with her father's corpse as she did, she would be unaware of the full truth. She would have believed him killed, but she would not have believed it done by an enchanter. They are so rare these days and they tend to keep to themselves.

She is lucky she had had those moments, had seen the rune burned like a brand, ash black and smooth, on his skin.

A sorcerer's blood in an enchanter's possession was a thing of great terror. The clash of their differences too often led to corrupt cursed objects. Enchanter's magic on it's own was humble work, hardly useful to anyone but themselves with the way they were bound to nature and the mere shimmers of power it offered. They could not hold enough to do anything large, on their own. But if they obtained a sorcerer's blood?

Well. Then they possessed a means to store power and a way to slowly obtain endless amounts.

In time, it was devastating.

Her only clue to the killer's identity was the rune, a mark left like a signature when an enchanter does their work.

It's burned into her mind. She'd made sure, once she spotted it and it took the breath from her lungs and left her cold, to memorize it.

To recognize it.

Of all the ways Kael thought her past might catch up to her, this had not been one.

She thought she might one day see Gen again, the little girl from the forest who adored her family and her magic, but she never thought it would be like this. She never thought Gen would turn her back on her people's beliefs.

"Oh, your dress it stunning," she compliments a Baron's daughter who sports a sleek, thin-strapped lavender piece. "It compliments your waist." She sips her wine. Her eyes roam the courtyard idly. No one has caught her attention, though she knows she's being watched.

She knows she's right.

"Thank you." Reflexively, her hand smooths over the waist, face lit by the compliment mindlessly given.

Kael smiles as her father taught her, straight and with no teeth. "Now if you'll excuse me, I should keep mingling."

"Of course!"

They tie off their pleasantries and part. Kael deposits her empty glass on a passing server's tray. She smooths her skirt. The magic in her blood hums. She chats briefly with a few more people, all of them as charmed as they were by her father when he frequented such events.

"Pardon me?" a girl demures softly, some time later, fingers ghosting at her elbow. The touch is cold in a way that betrays the owner's nature. It is a blessing that she was able to haggle those moments with her father's body. If she hadn't, she'd currently be clueless. She'd be in danger unprepared.

She quickly finishes her empty conversation with Viscountess Blune's niece, turning to Gen. "Yes?"

"May we speak?"

Her smile brightens as her blood warms uncomfortably. "Of course. Your dress is lovely," she compliments, though the article of clothing is out of season. It's a sleeveless knee-length teal that is better suited for summer's peak than it is for the ending hump of spring.

Gen tilts her chin up, face smooth and mildly pleased, though her hard eyes suggest that she caught the lack of genuineness in the compliment. She's unable to call it out, though. Polite society had rules. "Thank you." It could be rather stifling, filtering everything to be at-a-glance polite.

"It's wonderful to see you again," Kael says, "though I must admit I'm surprised to see you here." An enchantress this far from nature was all but powerless. It was all but a declaration that Kael's memory was correct. That she was right. The realization sinks something hot in her gut. "I thought you might be with your sister by this time of year."

Gen's face twists. She has been an only daughter for nearly a decade, her sister's funeral long come and gone. "Well, you know. She took a last minute trip to Kamri."

"Oh?" Kael grabs a new glass from a passing server that offers, tilting her brows up in curiosity as if she had not been among the small group that discovered Gina's corpse. It was tragic, truly, how she perished. Attempting the impossible. "That's a nice place, this time of year." It was near where her father was headed.

"It is. Simply gorgeous."

They hold eye contact. Kael sizes her up, believes Gen is doing the same. The years have not been as cruel as she thought they might be, with Gen being made an orphan with no family left to take her in the last time they saw one another. There's roundness to her cheeks and her eyes are not shadowed in a lack of sleep. It's impressive and insulting in the same stroke. "How have the years been?"

"Kind." A lift to her smile that seems bitter.

She returns it. "I can see." She takes a sip, leaving a perfect imprint of her red painted lips wrapped over the rim.

"Thank you. It's been kind for you, as well, I trust?" Sharp eyes. Oh, if only they'd been able to find one another in a place less crowded.

"Kind enough." She lifts a shoulder. "You've kept busy, it seems." Not a question.

"I have."

Kael switches her glass to her right hand to grab Gen's elbow, stepping closer to give the illusion that she's about to whisper something juicy and not quite polite. And she is. "I know. Murder is such hard work, isn't it?"

Gen lifts her chin, shaking off Kael's grasp. "You have no proof."

"I don't," she agrees. "But that doesn't always matter, does it? I'm not taking you before justice." There's other ways to deal with things. Ways more common among those who cannot stand completely honest before the world.

Fear cracks through her expression. Something else, steady and dark, is quick to mask over it. Grief, she wants to say. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I? I would have said something similar about you, recently." She takes another sip, sour-sweet rushing over her tongue. "Yet here we are. What are you hoping to do, anyway?"

It can't be the obvious answer of bringing her family back. They were dead (in an enchanter's way, which wasn't quite as permanent as any other but was nearly so, for all that's needed to bring them back). It would take more time than Gen had, to gather enough power for one person, let alone more.

"Is it not obvious?" A glint in her eyes. Knowledge. Triumph. Some missing piece. What is Kael missing?

"Apparently not. Be a dear and enlighten me?"

Gen folds her arms over her stomach, stares pointedly at far side of the crowd. "You should know."

Kael observes the other's face. When Gina was newly dead, Gen used to hide her grief behind irritation. But surely not. "Gina?" she asks. "That was no one's fault."

None but her own, though she won't say that part. It was a pitfall of being an enchanter. She'd tried to use magic she didn't have, driving herself to ruin, trying to perform something that required more than she could ever hold, to wrangle together a cure for her uncle. A man who had raised them both for most of their lives.

"Don't say her name. And it was."

Kael's chest swishes. Her magic settles, quiets. She forgets all of the people around them, possible ears listening. "Sorcerer magic is poison for enchanters," she reminds her, voice low. "My father would have helped but it would have killed him faster."

A pointed look. Carefully raised brows and pursed lips. A struggle to look like they're not fighting. "He could have helped. You could have."

"You know what would have happened if we did."

But did she? She'd been young, when her uncle and sister passed. They'd been all she had. Who would have taught her more, after, if she was alone?

Sorcerer magic in enchanter's grasp was incapable of healing, not in a way that is true to the name, that is favorable. Their kinds of magic never mix to cast anything good. It would have hollowed Gina of her ability to cast, would have trapped her with magic that steadily, slowly grew, lazily turning her everything into agony. It would have taken her uncle's ill only to replace it with something far worse, the beginning of a curse planted steady in his chest, siphoning off every scrap of his own magic until he was hollow, until it took his life, leaving behind an object acting as vessel for all that darkness.

There was nothing good to come, mixing their magics together.

And to use sorcerer amplification to bring an enchanter back? She's never heard it done. She imagines the consequences of that would create something that might be capable of rending the world in half.

"And it would have differed from current circumstance how exactly?

A sigh. She really did not know? "Do you not remember your laws? We do not mesh our magics together for a reason. It ends in corrupt enchantments. Curses. Saving your uncle would have unleashed a horror upon a dozen innocents that are not suffering from it now."

"Curses are myths."

A righteous sort of anger lights within her.

"Don't tell that to me." Her eyes scan the crowd for a sun-yellow pleated dress. She points it out, forces a smile on her face as she remembers that they are not alone. "Tell that to Lady Ontil. Her grandfather had possession of such an object. Ask her about it. She's left living with the consequences."

Defiance. "She looks fine."

"And looks can be deceiving, no?" She holds Gen's eyes. "I suggest, for the fate of some little girl that will one day be forced to take the brunt of your mistakes, that you lose what you stole."

"I took nothing."

"Talk to Lady Ontil. Please. For Gina's memory, if nothing else." She steps back. "And for the future's sake, I hope you're right." She downs the rest of her wine. It tastes more sour than it did before. "Just remember that you won't be the one paying the price. Think of that, before you decide if you want to gamble."

Gina does not answer. Her face is mask of stern nothingness that Kael can't read. She turns, wordless, and walks away.

"You won't be paying," she emphasizes, one last time, hoping it sticks as she watches her go.

Kael hopes it was enough. She doesn't her father's memory tainted with what Gen might force it to become. She doesn't want to think of his kindness and remember that somewhere, there is a family suffering because of his blood taken and used and fouled into something punishing.

*****

Sorcerer doesn't look like a word. Neither does enchanter, really. Someone please tell me to stop making intricate worlds for things. This did not need to have as much worldbuilding as it does and I wanted to strangle it at least half a dozen times because of it.

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reachfolk · 3 years

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1, 6, 13, and 16 for Alexi and Ursula and shoot anyone else you wanna answer for

💛 from @korvanjund

thank you sm for the ask darlin!! i decided to also include my little haglet ophelia since i've been adding more to her storyline today, and it's about time i start talking more about my other character lol.

who are they closest to? how did they meet and what do they like to do together?

i already answered this for alexi here!

ursula: she's obviously very close with her wife, bothela. like i said in her chara sheet, the two met when markarth was under reach control and they worked together as healers. they spend most of their day running the hag's cure together and training their apprentice. when they aren't doing that, they mostly focus on their own little projects and research; bothela seems to somehow never tire of alchemy even long after the shop closes, and ursula likes to tinker around with dwemer texts and tech to see what she can find out. then they get back together and discuss whatever interesting things they learned. she's also super close to her niece and nephew! isobel doesn't love having the kids spend time with her, but the few times they are together, they love hearing all her stories from when she was in the uprising and just stories of the reach in general.

ophelia: she'd literally lay down her life for every single person in her coven dklfjskdj, she's very dedicated to them!! but of course, she's closest to her mother, helle. helle was in the forsworn uprising, and she had ophelia not long after markarth was secured. after it all fell apart, she raised filly to continue fighting for the reach, but the rebellion was never the same after madanach was imprisoned. eventually, the two (along with some of ophelia's closest friends from the forsworn) disbanded and formed an independent coven. ophelia supported her mother through the ritual to become a hagraven matriarch, and she's gladly willing to take on the same burden should anything happen to helle. helle taught ophelia a LOT about everything she knows about magic, and she's working on honing her skills as a seer to better guide the coven. although helle is the matriarch, her daughter is her right hand man of sorts and is just as responsible for everything they do. she runs around the coven doing just about anything that needs doing to help the members, whether it's hunting with hypatia, babysitting honey while beatrice is busy, or assisting esmeralda in her expeditions to old ruins.

on an average day, what can they be found doing after dinner?

alexandria: the short answer is: way too much !! the long answer: girlie has the worst case of insomnia ever and she compensates for that by using Way Too Many stamina potions, so it's usually her companions that even have to remind her to stop for dinner at all. even after dinner, she knows she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she majorly tires herself out, so she likes to run around doing more and more stuff. if her companions are too worn out from the day to do that, she likes to restock their potion supply or practice her spells. if after that she still can't quite fall asleep, she'll usually go on a late night hunting trip. there have been a few times when the local blacksmith tries to open shop and just finds her tanning leather at their station lol

ursula: she's quite the scholar, especially when it comes to the history of the reach! this goes beyond just the reachfolk; she also studies the history of the dwarves in the reach, the dragon cult, etc. she's published a few books covering the subjects, and is considered a leading expert on the matter. if she's not having a chill evening with her wife, she likes to continue working on those books, whether she's writing for them or just doing some research. she makes occasional visits to isobel's family, as the kids absolutely adore her, but those are few and far between.

ophelia: she's a little like alexi in that she does way more than anyone has any business doing kdsjfhd. she doesn't have the same ailment of course, but she wants to take off the pressures of managing the coven from her mother's shoulds, at least as best as she can. by the time they finish dinner, she's already thinking about where to go hunting for the next day's meal. she prays at the shrines to the old gods, who often send her visions to guide her. she checks in on each of the members and their individual duties and their work. she'll sometimes read honey a story before bed or sing her to sleep when her mother is away. she takes care of helle when she's in pain (i hc that the hagraven transformation can be pretty painful and draining, not unlike the briarheart transformation). when she does have a moment to relax, she likes to spend it by the river, soaking her feet and watching the stars.

what special abilities or talents do they possess? did they develop through training or were they born with them?

alexandria: she's always had a knack for alchemy, like i said in the other post! it was why her tutor encouraged her to apprentice at the hag's cure, where she built on that natural talent with a lot of hard work. despite her young age (around 22-27 depending on her point in the story), she's practically a master alchemist already. she'll insist she's not a master—"well i don't think anyone could ever know everything there is to know about alchemy. it's an evolving discipline and—" she's the worst lol. but the point is, she's one of the best ones you'll find around!! she's not an expert in things like sword fighting or marksmanship, but she makes up for it with her potions and poisons, making her a formidable foe.

ursula: she's pretty well rounded i think, having been a fighter and a healer for much of her life. she's also fairly good at alchemy herself. a lot of those things weren't really inborn, but she had a lot of great guidance from the other people that were part of the uprising. since it was in the works for many years, and ursula joined in during the early stages of its planning, she had a lot of time to hone her skills. by the time of the main story with lex, she's pretty much a master at restoration magic in particular, as that's the one she's used most in the 30 years since the city was reconquered by the nords. when the temple of dibella is closed, she's looked to as the town's primary healer.

ophelia: like i said before, she's a seer. it was always an inborn gift she's had, but her training with her mother as well as her devout worship of the old gods give her visions a significant boost. she's most devout to vaermina, who shows her visions of omens and looming threats to both her and her people in her dreams. she's actually the one that told alexandria to go to helgen, because she got a vision of what was going to happen and knew alexi was central to it. her visions can sometimes come in the form of metaphors rather than exact tellings of what'll happen, so she thought that alexi being personified as a dragon in these visions was some odd metaphor, as was helgen being burnt to the ground. needless to say, she later realized those visions were more literal than initially thought lol

how do they like their baths/showers? hot/cold, long/short?

alexandria: like absolutely scorching lol. when she bathes, she often uses a flames spell to get the water damn near boiling before she hops in. when it's revealed that she's the dragonborn, she makes a lot of jokes that it's because of her dragon blood, but tbh she's just Like That.

ursula: warm, but not as much as lex. she's still spry and healthy, but she is Old (tm), so she finds a warm bath nice and soothing, yk? especially since most of her work is on her feet.

ophelia: cold or lukewarm at best. she loves bathing in the karth river, and she appreciates it regardless of the weather. the karth is practically sacred to the reachfolk, and she finds the embrace of the cold water bracing and energizing! lord knows she needs that considering how much is on her plate.

#tes #tesblr #skyrim oc #oc: alexandria silver blood #oc: ursula dain #oc: ophelia #cozy answers

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

Guardian of creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 11

*Author’s note*

Well this got done within a night shift of writing lol but now we discover the TRUE mythology of the Wizards in this story. I also hope you all enjoy the face cast I’ve picked out for you all, I know some of you are gonna FLIP OUT!! So enjoy this chapter folks and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@queendeakyy

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kinole009x

@wormzteef

@glitter-at-the-panic

Chapter 11,

The Truth

__________________________________________________________-

*3rd Person POV*

Serafina and Balthazar walked side by side along the desert as the rain continued to softly pour down on top of them.

“Why didn’t you tell us that you were—the Balthazar when you first met us?”

“I don’t usually give out that information freely.” He answered using the Egyptian’s actual voice. It was more softer compared to his original voice but it still held a commanding tone to it.

“Also this body……this clearly isn’t your human body. Are you possessing this poor man?”

“He volunteered it freely all those centuries ago when I went to find you and John. Plus I have to keep my true self hidden. As I’m sure you remember that the Sorcerer Supreme can sense every living creature on Earth. And ghosts give out the strongest power force known to our realm. If Grindelwald saw me freely moving about in the world, all hell would break loose.”

“That is true.” She muttered.

“We’ve arrived.” Balthazar soon said as he stopped. Serafina stopped beside him and the two of them stood on top of a semi-high (around 3-4ft) rock wall which stood over more desert.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night just to bring me out further into the desert?” Serafina sassed at the great Wizard. He softly chuckled and said with a sigh.

“Oh you even have his sarcastic nature.”

“Whose sarcastic nature?”

“Close your eyes dear one.” Serafina closed her eyes before feeling 2 fingers press against each side of her temples and soon Balthazar’s real voice spoke in her head.

‘Over a thousand years ago the world of Sorcerers was a very different place. Instead of one Wizard ruling over all others, all of us lived and helped serve under the 3 great apprentices of Merlin.’

“This was the story we were taught on our first day of school. The history of Wizards.”

‘Indeed. While each wizard and witch lived in their own countries, all Sorcerers were considered equals and called a special sacred place known as the Garden of Merlin, home. Now—open your eyes.’ Serafina opened her eyes and she was greeted with an amazing sight.

Nothing but pure green surrounded her, the sky was just shining it’s dawning colors of pink and blue as the sun continued to rise higher into the sky. She stood up on a hill and saw wildflowers growing as far as she could see in all various colors and types, trees so big she’d swore they’d brush against the clouds in the sky.

“Did we just time travel?” she turned and saw Balthazar as his true self. He now stood roughly about John’s height, maybe a couple inches taller. His ghostly eyes stared at Serafina as he told her.

“There’s too much to see and so little time. Try not to ask too many questions.” With that he walked deeper into the forest. Serafina ran behind him and when she caught up to him, she looked around the forest.

Listening to the frogs and birds bring the forest to life, squirrels scampering around the tree branches and deer along with other forest creatures doing whatever it was they do.

“This is where your family was born. Behold.” Balthazar pushed back a shrub and soon they saw a group of wizards all talking amongst one another, children playing games with either one another or with their parents.

“But won’t you disrupt the time stream by being here?”

“No. Because this is just a vision. No one can see nor hear us.” Serafina looked out watching everyone all happy and smiling at one another. Nothing like she had seen before with sorcerers of different nationalities and skin colors truly living like brothers and sisters.

“Hang on you said this is where my story began? That’s not true at all. My family didn’t come around till after the fall of the 3 apprentices.”

“Not true.” He immediately said to her. She looked at him confused. “You see that little girl over there? Who does she remind you of?” he pointed towards a young girl with long brown hair and blue eyes.

Playing alongside her was a Hispanic man with brown hair, warm brown eyes and a mustache over his upper lip while at his jaw a stubble of a beard was forming. He wore an elegant golden wizard robe and watched with pride and a warm smile as he saw this young girl practicing her magic.

“She…..she almost looks like me.”

“That’s because she is your ancestor. Wanda Arya Black. And that man she’s with is my brother Archimedes.” Serafina’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped.

“Archi—Archimedes?! As in Archimedes the Wise?! That Archimedes?” she turned to Balthazar.

“Yes is there an echo in here?” wow he was definitely John’s ancestor. He cleared his throat and said, “He was the only one out of the three of us to take on an apprentice. As the first muggle-born witch she showed prose and potential, so Archimedes took her in as his ward as well as her teacher.”

“But there was never an apprentice in the legend. Balthazar no offense but I’ve been taught your story throughout my entire life. Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you don’t know our story. Come with me.” He walked away leaving Serafina to stare at her ancestorial grandmother as well as the 3rd great apprentice of Merlin. As she watched the two of them walk away, Serafina turned and followed in the direction Balthazar went.

Day soon turned to night as they kept walking to another part of the garden. As they stopped, they spotted 3 figures sitting at a clearing looking up at the moon and the stares in the night sky. Serafina obviously recognized the two men because she was standing right next to him now.

The two men were Archimedes and Balthazar (back when he was alive). A woman was also with them. She wore a long, short-sleeved black dress and had long wavy brown hair. She was around their age and she was sitting upon a rock beside inbetween the two men.

“It’s you guys. And that woman, is that—”

“Shh! Pay attention now.” Balthazar told her. They turned back towards the three young apprentices and soon they heard Archimedes speak up.

“I know that I was chosen to be his wisdom and destined to teach future young ones of our ways but I—don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

“There’s no way we could ever feel ready for this. I mean how do you think I feel about being the next Sorcerer Supreme?” asked Balthazar.

“Some help you are.” Archimedes scoffed out a laugh.

“I’m not finished!” Balthazar stated.

“I think what cheekbones is trying to say is, is that we’ll be fine. Merlin has never steered us wrong before my brothers. We are all ready for this. And we’ll always have each other for when things get hard, right?” Morgana said as she got off the rock and placed her hands on each of her brother’s shoulders.

“Right.” Balthazar agreed with a strong nod.

“Right.” Archimedes however had a slight hesitant tone to his voice but the smile on his face fooled the other two. Morgana let out a yawn and Balthazar said.

“I think we’ll go ahead and retire for the evening.”

“Goodnight. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Archimedes said. As Balthazar and Morgana flew off, together (Balthazar using his magic to fly while Morgana summoned her broom).

“Cheekbones? Really Morgana?” Balthazar asked offensively.

“C’mon Balthazar, you’ve got to admit you have sharper cheekbones than even our Master.” Morgana teased back. The two of them continued to banter with each other till they were out of sight.

Archimedes softly chuckled and shook his head before growing solemn again and looked back up at the moon.

“You see…….at the time I didn’t realize that while Archimedes was ready to take his place as the Wisdom of Merlin, he wasn’t happy.” Balthazar explained to Serafina.

“You guys have the most famous story in all of Wizard lore, what was it that could make him happy?”

“A friend of yours.” They turned back around and after a little while a female voice spoke up.

“Are they gone master?”

“They’re gone.” He said. Soon coming out of the shrubs was Wanda. She was older, now the same age as Serafina and she could see for herself that she looked almost identical to her ancestral grandmother.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep him away much longer.” She suddenly shrieked as someone lifted her up and spun her around.

“Well then don’t make me stay away so long next time!” Soon coming into the light of the full moon was none other than Roger Taylor himself.

Serafina couldn’t believe it! She knew Roger had been around since the creation of the seas but he actually was there before the fall of the 3 apprentices of Merlin? He knew Archimedes the wise personally as well as her ancestral grandmother?! Was that why he seemed to flirt with her cause she reminded him of Wanda? And why didn’t he ever mention it before?

“How can I survive without my favorite witch and wizard?” Roger said as he nuzzled into Wanda’s neck affectionately.

“We’re sorry my friend, we just don’t……don’t want Morgana and Balthazar to—” Archimedes said as he pulled Roger away from his apprentice and gave the Nokken a brotherly embrace. Roger separated from Archimedes and looked at him confused.

“You—you mean to tell me that Roger. My Roger knew Archimedes as well as my infinite great grandmother!? So what were he and Wanda friends like we are? Or—”

“Archimedes and Wanda both cared for their brother and sister wizards. But the beings they both could be truly happy with, were the Magical creatures.” Balthazar explained to Serafina.

“I just don’t understand why you won’t tell them you don’t want to do this anymore? What will you do tomorrow when Merlin crowns you the Wise?” Roger asked.

“I’ll go through with it. It’s been destined that I become his Wisdom after he passes on so—I will.”

“And then what you’ll forget about all the creatures we’ve helped? Forget about me?” Wanda said.

“No! That will never happen! Querida you know I’ll always love you.” Archimedes said as he cupped Wanda’s cheeks in his hand, stroking her cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Right. You say you love her, but you don’t want your fellow wizards to know what you both have been building! Sure we get it!” Roger huffed as he took Wanda back into his arms.

“This duty was chosen for me at birth what else am I supposed to do?! I don’t have a choice Roger.”

“You weren’t born to serve a purpose. You were born to live your life. You always have a choice.” Roger said.

“He’s right Master. Think of what we’ve worked so hard to build. Do you really want that to go down in flames? I don’t have the power to convince the Wizard council to keep what we’re trying to do secure. I need you. They need you.” Archimedes brushed a strand of Wanda’s hair out of her face and placed a hand onto Roger’s shoulder.

“Come on. This way now.” Balthazar guided Serafina away from the three of them and the two of them walked to another part of the garden.

The sun slowly started to rise but already in Serafina’s mind, dozens of questions were buzzing around her head. She soon saw Balthazar stop beside a tree and she ran up to catch up to him.

“Where is he?!” Morgana’s voice snapped. “Sorcerers from across the world are out there waiting for our coronation!”

“We’ve searched everywhere. But no one’s seen him ma’am.” Said a young blonde wizard.

“Well look again! He could’ve been captured or-or killed!” Morgana snapped.

“Lady Morgana! Lady Morgana!” soon a young witch with ginger hair came running up. She had freckles decorated all over her face and bright green eyes. “I have news about Lord Archimedes.”

“Thank Paracelsus. Where is he?”

“He and his apprentice Wanda left with a creature known as a Nokken. He said to tell you that he and Wanda are safe and not to worry.”

“Left with a Nokken? For what?”

“It seems that he—” she went quiet. She cleared her throat and continued hesitantly. “He said he had a greater calling. Than staying here, ma’am.” At hearing this, Morgana went silent. Slowly her face contorted to anger as she sneered softly.

“You said a Nokken right? They’re like sirens yes? It tricked them both and then kidnapped them.”

“No. My Lord Arch—”

“I AM MORGANA LE FEY! MERLIN’S CHOSEN LAWKEEPER!! I DECIDE WHAT’S TRUE!! Where did it take them!?” she snapped with pure rage at the young witch.

“He—they didn’t say.” She said fearfully.

“No matter. I’ll find them one way or another.” Morgana growled lowly.

Balthazar sighed heavily with solemn. He then turned to Serafina and warned her.

“This next scene won’t be pretty.” He walked ahead. As Serafina passed over the tree, she was greeted with a gruesome sight. Hundreds upon thousands of sea creature corpses lay across the land.

From mermaids, to sirens, Nokks to Kelpies. Every sea creature known to mankind could be seen. Their bodies pale and their eyes soulless with death.

“Morgana declared war between us and the sea creatures. Accusing Roger of seducing both Archimedes and his apprentice and demanding retribution. It resulted in a massacre on a scale never seen before in Wizard history until two other occasions.” Balthazar explained as he and Serafina slowly walked over the corpses of the poor sea creatures.

“Me and Freddie.” Balthazar nodded solemnly. They arrived at seemed to be the end of the garden. “Heartbroken at his apprentices fall into darkness; with his final breath, Merlin arranged the meeting between the four of them to meet at the sacred, neutral ground known to all creatures.” Balthazar once again pushed the shrubs away and Serafina soon saw Roger, Wanda, Archimedes, and Morgana standing in a landscape that she knew all too well.

“It’s—my home.” She whispered in awe as well as shock.

“I’ve come as Merlin decreed. Now give them back, and all of this can be over.” Morgana took a step when Roger, who was now in his full Nokken form guarding Archimedes and Wanda, snarled as his gills flared angrily.

“Stay back! They came here to talk! That’s all!”

“Please sister stop this. I can’t give you what you want.” Archimedes pleaded.

“That’s not true. You’re our brother!” Morgana tried to reason with him.

“Yes. You and Balthazar have been my brother and sister. You both will always be my brother and sister. But our journey together has come to an end.”

“You’re—abandoning us? For what purpose? What purpose is greater than being with your own family?” Archimedes swallowed his tears and said as he looked directly at Morgana.

“The protection and safe security of all Magical creatures. So please, let them live in peace.”

“There is no peace without you Archimedes! You belong with your own kind. With Sorcerers. With us.” Morgana pleaded. Archimedes turned his head and refused to look Morgana in the eye. She took another step before looking towards Wanda now. “Wanda, you know this is the way. Please child come with me.” Roger’s claws dug deeper into the ground as his fangs grew longer.

“I said….STAY BACK!!” then like the animal he truly was, he launched himself at Morgana, pinning her down and snarled down at her.

Morgana’s gagging echoed in the night as Roger began to choke her to death before he felt ready to deliver the final blow. He wasn’t just doing this for his Sorcerer friends but he also lost all his best friends and family to this witch.

She cause in a complete genocide against the sea and now he was going to have his revenge.

“Roger stop it what are you doing!?” Wanda exclaimed.

“SHE’S A MONSTER WANDA!! She’ll keep hunting you both. Just like she hunted my people! I. Have. To end this!” Morgana continued to choke as she tried to get Roger off of her but he was too strong for her.

“Roger please listen to me! I know she’s slaughtered your people but—” Archimedes started off. “If you kill her now, you will be no better than she was. We—we can’t bear to see you……”

“Please Roger let Lady Morgana go! For us.” Wanda pleaded as tears formed in her eyes. Roger looked at his friends with helpless eyes but when he looked down at Morgana, his eye grew hard and filled with hatred.

But he knew they were right. If he killed the high witch now, he’d not only have to go into hiding but he’d also be consumed by revenge. Soon enough what would stop him from killed all other sorcerers? Including Wanda and Archimedes who have shown him nothing but kindness and love. Something his kind never truly understood, until he met them. He turned back towards them and said softly.

“Only for you both.” He released Morgana and crawled over towards them. Morgana let out a series of coughs as she slowly raised herself off the ground. Archimedes pressed his forehead against Roger’s and whispered.

“Thank you my friend.” Roger then turned to Wanda who immediately hugged him and kissed his blue/grey scale cheek. “Sister Morgana I—”

“SANGUINE MALICE!!” Morgana cried out. Wanda pushed Roger away and took the spell head on. She stumbled backwards as she clenched her stomach with one arm and held her hand to her mouth. Wanda grunted and groaned before she suddenly vomited out blood.

Serafina watched with horror as she was experiencing déjà vu. For that spell was the very same spell that was used on her by John’s own mother.

“WANDA!!” Both Roger and Archimedes exclaimed fearfully. Roger quickly phased back into his human disguise and caught Wanda as she collapsed and proceeded to keep coughing and vomiting out blood. Her eyes dripping out bloody tears as they slowly went red. Her coughs and gagging now pierced the air.

Archimedes joined alongside Roger and took the young witch’s face in between his hands.

“She-she wasn’t the target. It was for the Nokk. But if a witch is willing to die for a monster, then she’s no different!”

“No. No, no, Wanda. Wanda, Wanda hey, hey, hey querida por favor. Por favor, stay with us. Stay with me.” Wanda slowly lifted her bloody hand towards Archimedes’ face and tried to speak, but all that came out were haunting gurgles. “Shhh, shhh, shhh. Save your strength my darling girl. Shhhh, shhh.”

“Please Wanda just hold on. Archimedes will heal you just hang on we’ll get you help. Just please hold on for us. I love you so much my soulmate.” Roger pleaded as he stroked through her hair.

Slowly her head became limp as her gurgling ceased and her arm fell to the ground, leaving a bloody sweep across Archimedes’ right cheek.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! No!” Roger pleaded and begged but it was too late. Wanda Arya Black was gone. “NOOOOO!!!!” Roger roared out in heartbroken agony and wept over her corpse. Archimedes too couldn’t hold his tears back as he pressed his forehead to Wanda’s and his tears fell upon her face.

When Roger slowly turned his head towards Morgana, his blood boiled with more rage than ever.

“You’ve killed one of your own!” He went to charge towards Morgana but a hand stopped him from moving any further. Roger looked down and saw that Archimedes had stopped him. Before he could snap, Roger’s anger suddenly turned to fear as he sensed a sudden spike of power rising within Archimedes.

The wizard slowly stood up and Morgana stared at her brother in fear.

“Archimedes?” she softly spoke his name. Suddenly she felt something beginning to choke her. She dropped her wand as her hands went up to neck, trying to feel what it was that was choking her but she felt nothing but her own skin. The sky grew dark, the wind softly picked up and even the moon went dark. It was then Archimedes spoke in a low, haunting chant.

By the Guardian of all creatures

I give my voice to the Seers.

Soon even the moon itself grew black till it practically seemed to have disappeared completely. Archimedes began to glow a bright white color as his lower half changed and morphed into a long snake-like tail.

It soon came towards Morgana as it now revealed that a tail was now choking her. Coils also formed around Wanda’s body protectively while Roger fell to the ground and submitted in fear, for he knew just what was coming.

Suddenly from Archimedes’ lips not only did he speak but a thousand other voices both male and female came out of him.

“FOR YOUR CRIMES ON THESE SACRED GROUNDS, YOUR SOUL WILL KNOW NO PEACE! NOT FOR YOU OR YOUR DESCENDANTS!!” Soon Archimedes’ upper-half grew and grew till he stood well over the trees themselves.

His eyes now glowed pure gold with a white slit as the voices continued to speak through Archimedes.

“EVERY DESCENDANT YOU GIVE BIRTH WILL BE MARKED WITH SUFFERING. AND WE, SHALL BE YOUR DEATH IN EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM. SO SAYS THE NAGA, THE SEERS OF ALL. THE GUARDIAN OF CREATURES CONDEMNS YOU. MORGANA THE TRAITORUS!”

Morgana had never in her life felt such fear surge through her body. Her brother had surrendered his very being to the most powerful and dangerous creatures known to the supernatural world. The eyes closed and with a bright light, all three of them disappeared, leaving her cowering on the ground as the wind blew her hair around her face.

Her expression frozen in pure terror.

From the bushes Balthazar looked down solemnly while Serafina was just in shock.

“None of this—was taught to us at school.”

“That’s because Morgana obliviated the entire Wizard community of what really happened that night, told her own version of the tale. And from there she made Morgana’s law, the execution and hunting of all magical creatures, out of her hate and fear. Years after I became Sorcerer Supreme, and saw for myself what happened that night thanks to the help of Freddie Mercury himself, I exposed her for the coward she really was. But when you obliviate an entire community, there is only so much you can do to rewrite certain parts of history without dire consequences. And her laws and teachings would soon make their way to my bloodline and the massacre of the Naga soon commence.”

Soon the forest changed to the very day the Naga genocide happened with Thomas Riddle Deacon was Sorcerer Supreme. All of the Nagas surrounded them before the vision went black as Balthazar choked out sadly.

“I did my best to warn him, but—it wasn’t enough.” Soon the two of them were back in the real world. Balthazar in his vessel’s body, a broken expression on his face as his head lowered in sorrow. “Archimedes has been missing since that night and Morgana’s law continues to be enforced. That’s why at the end of every Sorcerer Supreme reign they plan, target and exterminate every living creature.”

“You mean Archimedes—is alive?” Balthazar nodded sadly. “This whole time?! So why hasn’t he been protecting these creatures?”

“He renounced his claim to it. So their only hope is for the next chosen one to take the mantel. That’s why Freddie also chose you along with John.”

“What?”

“You are Wanda’s descendant. You are destined to be the next Guardian of Creatures. If you don’t, the cycle will only continue. Archimedes will stay hidden, Morgana’s law will remain, and Sorcerers will continue to kill till only they are the supreme beings. That’s why we want you to help us end it.”

“I’m—sorry Balthazar. That’s too much even for me.” Serafina sat down along the wall and said as she held her legs to her chest. “I’m not a Guardian or a descendant of anyone connected to the 3 apprentices, I’m just……me.”

“You can believe in that and forget what I’ve told you or can continue to help fix a broken world. Your choice.”

For years she had been following in what Freddie has foreseen her and John to do but never did she imagine that she’d have to also lead all Magical creatures into peace. Not to mention that she now suddenly got a whiplash of the fact that her family line was connected to the 3 apprentices of Merlin through apprenticeship.

But she had come too far now. If she fled now then all this work would have been for nothing. She’d be abandoning her family yet again and that was something she couldn’t do. Not when she finally started to rebuild it once again with the return of her adopted sons.

“Okay. What do you need us to do now?”

“Find Archimedes. He’s in his Motherland of what is now known as Chile. He has got to crown a Guardian of Creatures.”

“But Chile has one of the most powerful magical barriers. We wouldn’t even know where to start looking once we got there.”

“He’ll come to you dear one. He’ll trust his apprentice’s bloodline. But uhh… Archimedes won’t train you if you bring forth my descendant let alone know that you’re married to him. Best if you go find him alone.”

“You want me too—abandon my family?”

“You’re not abandoning them. Your destiny lies on a different path than theirs right now. You and Archimedes both need this.”

“I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” Balthazar placed his vessel’s hand on Serafina’s shoulder and both the vessel and Balthazar’s real voice spoke to her.

“When the time comes, I know you will do the right thing.” Their voices echoed in her head.

Back at camp Serafina’s eyes suddenly shot open and she panted heavily as a cold sweat stuck to her entire body.

“Melda?” John’s voice groaned beside her. She looked down and rested her hand against John’s temple and used her magic to put him back to sleep.

“I’m alright my love. Go back to sleep.” He cleared his throat tiredly before letting out a moan and immediately fell right asleep. Serafina stared outside of the tent and thought to herself, ‘A descendant of Archimedes’ apprentice.’

She turned her night dress into traveling clothes and looked down at her husband and sons one last time.

“I’ll be back my loves. Please don’t worry.” She sent three red auras of magic into the minds of her boys who all smiled in their sleep and let out tired moans.

Serafina got out of the tent and she got on top of her horse and proceeded to race off into the desert.

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stainandscribble · 4 years

Text

Revenant (Part 6)

Pairing: Baekhyun X OC (Original Female Character)

Genre: Baekhyun Witch AU; fluff; fantasy; angst

Summary: To witches, names hold power, and Eleonora happens to have a very dangerous gift, one that can be deadly when misused- she has the ability to read names, true names that the witches and warlocks share only with people of utmost trust. It is a secret she hopes to take to her grave. Baekhyun had left his coven, and joined one with Suho’s. They too, possess unspeakable gifts. When Junmyeon warns him of his marriage, Baekhyun begins preparing, but so does Eleonora. With the veil thinning, and the darker half approaching, will their secrets stay safe? Or will the world burn?

A/N: this chapter ended up quite long, so I enjoy the extra content lol. Tagging @lovebuginlove @bbyunz . Yayun is transcribed from characters elegant (ya 雅 ) cloud (yun 云).

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

Word Count: 5173

Lu Han sat at the breakfast table with his brothers. Charms of protection twinkled with magic beside windows and doors, the smell of sage was fragrant as it hung in the air. He could tell his brothers were speaking, he watched with kind eyes as their lips moved, but Lu Han could not hear them.

“She is the sacred thirteen.”

The words rang through his head, the voice was unfamiliar, conjured by his mind during sleep to fill the ringing silence of his dream. He sat with his brothers at the table, but Lu Han might as well have been a million miles away. The dream that was not a dream replayed in his head, and he recognised it. He had spent his education honing the craft of clairvoyance, and if his families coven taught him anything, it was how to recognise a prophecy.

In his dream, he had seen hi brothers; bared witness to the coming together of the twelve. In the chaos of his dream, he found Yixing, or maybe Yixing had found him. His eyes, dark and distrusting burned into Lu Han, and the man could do nothing but send a small smile his way, watching the distrust morph into an expression of pain, bubbling just under the surface, but never daring to leave his eyes. Lu Han saw tears that refused to spill, and he knew that what had transpired at that moment between them was heartbreak. Nestled into the tender warmth of his chest, kept in the bone confinement of his ribs by his pericardium was heartbreak, making a home of him.

Two brothers stood opposite each other, both in pain, both restless.

Unable to speak, Lu Han watched, feeling love fighting for survival among the broken pieces of his heart in an attempt to stick them back together. Unable to scream, he felt his heart snap back into place, right before Yixing disappeared, and with him went the rest of his brothers. In the darkness, he was left alone, but only for a moment.

In their place, the only human figure in the darkness, stood a woman.

Lu Han did not know her. She was not death, not life nor one of the three fates. She was mortal, just like him.

She knew his name.

Rather, she would learn to know his name. He watched her lips move around the syllables, no sound passing through them. The silence was ringing in his ears, the echo of the power of his name had made him heavy, but to his surprise, it had not made him uneasy. Lu Han felt no discomfort at the thought that she knew his true name. She was not the adversary.

The darkness dissolved into light, and the prophecy that had come to him in his dream settled over him like a weighted blanket, heavy but not uncomfortable.

And as he sat at breakfast, it weighed on him still.

“Yixing called.” Yifan’s voice brought him back to the present. The deep rumble of his voice was comforting, familiar.

“He is coming.” Yifan told them, and Tao had let go of his coffee, letting the cup spill brown liquid over the wooden table. He could see the shock in the younger’s eyes, his dark circles deepening with the revelation. It was as if rest had left him. Yifan too, looked aged, if even for a second. He worried, brows furrowed and lips pulled in a tight line as is fingers combed through his black hair.

Lu Han recognised the darkness swirling behind their irises, he was familiar with the glassy sheen of tears in their eyes. Lu Han knew heartbreak when he saw it. It was the same broken look Yixing had given him in his dream.

“Good.” Lu Han answered, his voice soft and reassuring. His almond-shaped brown eyes became smaller when he smiled, his full lips turned upwards into a small smile, the same one he had given Yixing in his dream.

He was the only one of his brothers who didn’t look heartbroken. He had already put his heart back together, or at least he knew he would eventually do so. That knowledge allowed him to smile, and Tao smiled back. It was a broken rueful smile, but a smile nonetheless.

--------------------

Hours later, Yixing had finally landed, comforted by the steady unyielding ground beneath his feet. He had travelled across the country, to his brothers. Back to his brothers, and yet away from them. It was a strange feeling, he thought, to be two halves of a Circle, never whole.

At the airport, it had been Lu Han who came to greet him. The lean man looked as if he had not aged a day. He had grown out his hair longer, the curtains of his fringe parting in the middle, a serene expression painted over his features. No worry creased his brows, not tension pursed his lips together. Just like in his dream, Yixing watched him a little breathless, the memory of the prophecy fresh in his mind mixing with the heartbreak in Junmyeon’s eyes. His brothers were reluctant to let him go. they loved him enough to let him anyway, and now he was standing in front of his brother as if in a dream.

“I saw you.” Lu Han told him, eyes wide with happiness as he stood in front of Yixing, taking in the tired silhouette of his brother, his eyes falling onto the golden band on his ring finger. He smiled then, happy for his brother’s happiness as they finally stood together.

“I saw you too.” Yixing told him, his voice barely a whisper when he spoke, scared of the consequences of their dreams. It was those dangerous dreams, however, that brought him here, to his family, it was those dangerous dreams stitching his family back together, and despite the heartbreak swimming in their eyes, both Yixing and Lu Han saw the buds of love, ready to weave their broken hearts back together.

“Did you see the woman?” Lu Han asked suddenly, and it was then that Yixing was forced to remember that he was a clairvoyant, that he was always a step ahead.

“The woman?” Yixing asked, mind empty for answers. He had not seen a woman in his dreams, nor did Chanyeol or Minseok. Neither did Junmyeon.

“She had blue eyes, vivid and sparkling like sapphires and caramel brown hair.” Lu Han clarified, remembering the way her pink lips spoke his same without making a sound, and the way she made him feel like he would know her, not now, but in the future.

“Do you know her?” Yixing asked and he shook his head, hoping that his brother would have answers. He could see the brief shadow of recognition pass through Yixing’s eyes. He was hopeful he knew.

“I felt like she knew me, or like she would know me one day.” Lu Han continued, a small smile playing on his lips.

“A premonition?” Yixing asked, thinking back to Eleonora’s familiar face, the electric blue eyes, piercing into Junmyeon when they first met, the way she had scrutinised Baekhyun, and how she was starting to fall in love. If she was the one Lu Han had seen, he had no doubt the two would meet. He worried it might be soon.

“I think so.” The slender man nodded, walking Yixing towards his car to take him home.

The drive wasn’t particularly long, it had lasted an hour as they moved to the outskirts of the city, living on the border of another coven. They lived together in a large house with tall windows and a white façade. The garden out front was well-groomed, with no stray flowers or long grass. They had no porch either.

“We are here.” Lu Han had parked his car in the driveway, letting Yixing get out first, before walking him to the door.

“Welcome home.” He spoke when they stepped inside, the warm air kissing their cheeks as they took off their shoes and hung up their coats. Looking out from the living room, Yifan had made his way to his guest, crossing the wide corridor to greet his brother.

“Yixing.” He spoke, and although there was little emotion in his voice, and the hand that reached out to him was done out of politeness, Yixing didn’t mind.

“Yifan.” He greeted the tall man, completely ignorant of the deep stare he was getting. Yifan’s dark eyes looked even darker when they looked over his brother.

“Zitao.” Yixing had called out, watching as the youngest made his way down the central stairs, his eyes light with optimism and his lips curved upwards in a smile. Without missing a beat, and without regard for his elders, Zitao had flung himself at Yixing, embracing the man. Without thinking, Yixing hugged him back, feeling the grief and the heartbreak slip away from Zitao’s tall frame.

Lu Han watched, standing now beside Yifan as he looked over the exchange, eyes softening at the sight. His brothers were embracing, and he watched as the heartbreak in Zitao’s eyes turned into something softer, a tender fire burning behind his eyes. Yifan’s gaze fell onto Yixing’s hands, a golden band glimmering in the artificial light of the lamps. He wondered what he had missed, and he wondered what they have missed too. For a short, tender moment their hearts pulled themselves back together, hope planted a seed inside the tender caverns of their chests.

Eventually, Zitao let go, opting for steering his brothers into the warm kitchen.

“What do you need to tell us?” Yifan had asked as they passed the threshold, and Yixing looked around at the three of them, before looking over at the table shoved into the corner by the window.

“Let’s sit.”

--------------------

Minseok and his wife, Demi, decided to host dinner the day after Yixing left, trying their hardest to distract themselves from feeling the tug of increasing distance between them and their brother. Their table was long enough to host their coven, including Yixing’s wife, Yayun, who was staying with them while her husband was away. It was well known that during the Thinning one should not be in the house alone, and so as there were only two other married warlocks, she decided to stay with one of them. Minseok happened to be closest since he was right next door. Their living room was pristine, monochromatic in white and black with not a single speck of dust or stray object lying around. Their house, unlike the rest, was very minimalist and modern. However, even they could not go without the charms hanging by their windows and front door. Yellow paper with red writing and red tassels hung by them, and on the windowsill, a small bouquet of dry sage stood in a clear glass, ready for burning. Baekhyun had decided to skip this one out in favour of finally taking his wife to be on a proper date, and Demi and Yayun had supported his decision. They had gone as far as to tell him which flowers to get her, and they had settled on a bouquet of blue dahlias to symbolise a new beginning.

“Have you heard from Yixing yet?” Junmyeon asked when everyone was seated, his hand draped casually over the back of Winnie’s chair. The rest of the coven grew tense, knowing that resentment took time to mellow out, and forgiveness was hard to give. Their deep brown eyes looked at Yayun, who was looking at them through a curtain of short black hair, her eyes equally as dark as their own.

“He called to say he arrived. Lu Han was happy to see him.” Yayun spoke, sipping on her tea as she sat in between Demi and Winnie. Her melodic voice rang through the still air, but her words had put everyone at ease. Their brother was safe and Lu Han had come to greet him, and that was more than they expected. Minseok and Jongdae relaxed in their chair’s returning to their meal if soup and rice.

“We should ask Alethea’s coven about the prophecy.” Yayun turned to look at Junmyeon, a knowing look in her eyes as she regarded the leader with a serious expression. Her pink lips were pressed together in a straight line as she waited for him to say something.

“Why?” Junmyeon asked, leaning over the table to look directly at the small woman.

“Lu Han saw her too.” She spoke, and her voice cut through their peace like a knife. A shiver run down Junmyeon’s spine at the mention of Alethea. His dream was pulled fresh into the front of his mind, the memory of his name was threatening, and the image of water turning to blood was terrifying.

“What did he say?” Junmyeon whispered, half apprehensive of the answer, and half curious as to what the clairvoyant had to say about his dream.

“Thirteen. The sacred number is thirteen.” Yayun spoke, and this time even Jongdae and Minseok put their spoons back down.

“Not twelve?” Jongdae asked.

“Why her?” Jongin had asked, and the rest of his coven had turned to look at him, their eyes falling at the younger member with equal confusion. Why her, was a good question indeed, but they also knew things happen for a reason, and the reasons are not always obvious at first.

“Call her here.” Junmyeon commanded, and even Winnie could not help the look of shock at his decision. If he had seen her as the adversary, but both Baekhyun and Lu Han had seen her in a positive way there had to be more to this than he thought. It was clear now; when three of six had already seen Alethea, that she was significant.

Chanyeol had pulled out his phone, and after calling Baekhyun, he announced that they would be here soon. The coven waited, the severity of their situation weighing down on them, enveloping them in a blanket of silence as they ate the remainder of their dinner.

Baekhyun’s and Alethea’s entrance was announced by the chiming of the bell by the door, and the faint smell of burning sage as they cleansed themselves after walking in.

“You wanted to see me.” Alethea had announced as she walked into the room, her head held high as she looked over to the table.

“Do you know anything about receiving prophecies?” Minseok had asked, his voice was high and soft and as nonintimidating as he could manage. His large eyes gazed up at her in curiosity, waiting for an answer.

“My crone received one in her youth. I don’t know much else.” Her answer was unsatisfactory but expected. There was no reason for her to know much about receiving prophecies. Witches were told about prophecies fulfilling themselves, about prophets who had already been given their prophecies and interpreted them. Prophecies were rare, and prophets even rarer. Sometimes, a single prophet or oracle would receive multiple prophecies in their life. That was their purpose. Those with no clairvoyance were not chosen often.

“We think we are receiving a prophecy.” Jongdae had supplied, and beside Alethea, Baekhyun froze, his eyes turning frantically between Junmyeon and Minseok. The two remained serious and stoic as they watched Alethea’s reaction.

“All of you?” Alethea asked, looking at them with wide electric eyes. After surveying each face, she turned to look over at Baekhyun. He was standing still, his warm palm pressed against the small of her back. He was wearing a dress shirt and black slacks since they had come straight here from their date at the Thai restaurant. Baekhyun met her eyes, his plump lips pressed between his teeth as he bit down on his lower lip and nodded. His eyes darkened, remembering the dream of her being ripped away, and the distress he felt once he woke up, followed by Junmyeon opening the doors to his bedroom with Chanyeol at his feet, both as distressed as him.

“Bit by bit.” Chanyeol spoke, his deep baritone piercing through the still air.

“Why are you telling me this?” Alethea could taste their distress, a sour thing mixed with the metallic aftertaste of fear and adrenalin on her tongue. They were distressed for different reasons, she could taste the subtle differences in Baekhyun and Junmyeon. She didn’t need to taste feelings to know that Junmyeon was worried, his brows creased and wrinkles lined his forehead. She had never seen his eyes so dark, not even during their meeting with her coven. The severity of the situation clung onto her taste buds thick like treacle.

“It involves you.” Junmyeon told her, his voice ringing in the silence, and she didn’t know what to say back.

She could tell it wasn’t good, knowing names had never caused her much trouble, but she had a feeling it would become a problem now. Her power, her best-kept secret, was a weapon of mass destruction if misused, and she hoped she would never break to unleash it.

--------------------

Yifan’s kitchen was warm, curtsey to them moving to the warmer part of the country. The sun beamed through the windows in golden rays, and Yixing could not help but think about Baekhyun, and whether his coven was doing alright. His eyes fell onto the three men looking at him now. Their expressions were stoic, lips pressed together and their faces void of any other emotion. Yifan’s eyes told Yixing he apprehensive. His brows were furrowed as he looked on, and his jaw clenched.

“We think it is a prophecy. It comes in threes. Lu Han already received a part of the prophecy.” Yixing wasted no time in telling his brothers what had been happening. There was no reason for sugar-coating and no reason for delay either. None of them knew who the next prophet would be, and no one knew what would happen once they were able to piece the puzzle together.

“It came in a dream last night.” Lu Han confessed when Yifan and Zitao turned to look at him, their wide eyes filled with worry. Yifan’s jaw had gone slack at the revelation, his lips parting, and he looked as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, the silence filled the air and tension settled over their shoulders.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Zitao asked.

“Nothing makes sense. Besides,” Lu Han looked away from the youngest to the newcomer, sitting silently in his chair and observing their exchange with deathly scrutiny. “I saw Yixing, and I just knew. I knew I had to wait.” He tried explaining eyes wide with a knowledge the others did not possess.

“What does Junmyeon know that we don’t?” Yifan asked, hands balling as they rested on the table.

“We have other parts. At least some of them.” The gravity in Yixing’s voice was final, settling over them the same way it had settled over Junmyeon and the others when he first revealed that the strange nightmares were a prophecy.

“How many so far?”

“Five.” Yixing answered, not paying any attention to who was asking, all that he focused on was the memory of his dream and the weight of what he had seen.

“I’m the sixth.” Lu Han told them, looking over to Yixing. The clairvoyant watched as his dream passed behind his eyes, an echo of hope that came in a nightmare.

“When will we know the next parts?” Zitao asked, worry creasing his brows. For all he knew, he could be next. Plagued by a nightmare with the possibility of coming true.

“In two nights.” Yixing whispered, looked down at the table, eyes following the grains of the wood as if it was scripture. But just as in holy texts, there was no answer here.

“The woman I saw,” Lu Han began, a feeling of familiarity washing over him when her face passed through his memory, but he never got to finish his question.

“Is Baekhyun’s wife to be.” Yixing cut him off, with the answer.

“She can taste feelings.” Yixing added, thinking that the empathetic ability would make Lu Han excited.

“Cool.” Zitao exclaimed instead, but Yixing could see the appreciation swimming in Lu Han’s dark irises, tender and warm.

“We will go to you.” Yifan’s deep voice brought their attention to the tall man. His dark eyes gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

“It's better to be a whole coven, rather than a bit of it.” He reasoned, and his brothers agreed, waiting for Yixing’s approval. The calm man smiled, and Lu Han mirrored the action, their dreams passing in unison behind their eyes.

“Let’s go home.”

--------------------

Eleonora woke up in the middle of the night, the fire alarm blaring and the smell of smoke thick in the air as she breathed in. In the darkness, she made her way to the door, checking if the fire was outside her room by touching the door.

Once her hand met the cool wood, she decided to open it, wondering what could be burning.

When she opened the door, the faint light of the moon illuminated the smoke coming from underneath Baekhyun’s door. She couldn’t hear any movement, and before she knew it, she was reaching for the fire extinguisher at the end of the hallway, quickly making her way into the room.

Behind Baekhyun’s bed, fire blazed, lighting the carpet, the dresser and the curtain of the window beside it.

“Baek?” She tried calling, but when he did not respond, she made her way over to his bed, ripping the covers off of his body and checking for his breathing. Just as she was pulling him out of bed, trying to get them both out of the room, Yeol and Suho burst into the room, both with fire extinguishers.

“Baek?” Loey practically screamed when he saw his brother slumped in Eleonora’s arms.

Suho spared no time as he passed them using the fire extinguisher to quench the fire.

“Take him out.” He had called over his shoulder, and Eleonora watched helplessly as the tall man carried Baekhyun in his arms almost effortlessly.

Once they were outside the building, they watched as the rest of the coven gathered out in front of Baekhyun’s house, Winnie watched as the fire inside receded, wrapped tightly in a shawl as she waited for her husband. Yayun was the first to come over to Eleonora. She watched as the younger girl looked on with wide blow eyes, her hands trembling at her sides as Yeol and Xiumin tried to resuscitate her husband to be. She gave her a shawl to cover herself with and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Once Baekhyun had opened his eyes, Xiumin opened a potion vial and slid the liquid down his throat. He coughed, allowing the smoke to escape his lungs in the form of black phlegm.

“What was that?” Chen asked, looking over at Baekhyun, face covered in soot as he knelt on the grass coughing up black phlegm and wiping his watery eyes.

“I think Baekhyun had a nightmare.” Loey told them, crouching beside his friend, patting his back to help the phlegm loose.

“Why would a nightmare set his room on fire?” Eleonora had been distraught, watching as the room burned, and Baekhyun remained unconscious despite the loud squeals of the fire alarm. She had felt scared, terrified at the prospect of losing him, and terrified of the flames eating at the room, orange and hot and deadly. Now, after all of that Loey was telling her he had a nightmare. Witches did not conjure fire in their sleep, there had never been such an accident, and there was no possibility of it happening. Conjuring that could be potentially destructive had to be done through concentration and strict ritual. Neither could be accomplished whilst asleep.

“It doesn’t matter.” Winnie quickly butted in, stopping the answer of Loey’s tongue before it happened.

“It doesn’t matter? He set fire to his house in his sleep!” Eleonora pointed at the smoke still coming out the stained glass window in Baekhyun’s bedroom.

“Don’t concern yourself.” Suho spoke up, his voice carried by the wind as he walked over to the group, empty fire extinguisher at hand. He descended the steps of the front porch, face covered in soot and sweat falling down the sides of his face in clear streams.

“It might have escaped your notice Suho, but we are getting married.” Eleonora spat, watching as Baekhyun caught his breath and sat in the grass, allowing the autumn night to cool down his body.

“Whether you like me or not, doesn’t matter. He is going to be my husband, his affairs concern me.” She told him helping Baekhyun to his feet when he outstretched his hand in her direction. She held him up by the waist, allowing the slim man to lean against her.

“You’re not his wife yet.” Suho told her, not sparing her a glance as he handed the extinguisher over to Soo.

The chill in his voice sent a shiver down Eleonora’s spine. She could taste his hostility and his irritation on her tongue, putrid tastes that accompanied poisonous feelings.

He had made it clear to her then; she was not part of his coven, and she doubted she would ever be one in his mind.

“Come in for some tea.” Demi and Yayun suggested, pulling Eleonora away from Baekhyun, who was passed over to Loey.

Once they sat down in Yayun’s kitchen, the girls began to make tea, handing Eleonora the first mug of steaming amber liquid and sliding an open packet of biscuits across the table. In the living room, Winnie sat beside her husband, wiping black suit off his face. The others sat around the room, eyes darting to check on Baekhyun every once in a while.

“What did you dream?” Minseok asked first, cutting straight to the chase as he looked over at his brother, the panic of the night still swimming in his glassy eyes.

“It faded the moment I woke up, but I know how it made me feel.” Baekhyun shivered, eyes darting to the doorway, looking over at where the light of the kitchen fell onto the floorboards in the corridor, searching for Alethea.

“I cannot shake the feeling there is darkness lurking, just beyond my reach, and my light can’t reach it.” He whispered, his voice small and broken, and Junmyeon thought he had the same broken look Chanyeol had the night of the prophecy. He was afraid, but no one could even begin to guess what was so frightening.

“You can’t tell her about your powers.” Junmyeon chose to warn him, eyeing him sternly as he pouted.

“You told Winnie when she moved in.” The younger accused.

“Listen to your leader.” Junmyeon told him, and the rest of the coven watched the tension build between them, confusion swirling in their eyes. They didn’t see a reason why Alethea should not be told about their powers.

“Why can’t I tell her?” Baekhyun asked, challenging his leader's authority. He stood up, legs still shaky from the lack of oxygen, but his eyes were dark when they looked down at Junmyeon.

“I saw her in my dream too.” He confessed, looking deep into Baekhyun’s eyes, fear and anger swimming in his own.

“In mine, she was the adversary.”

The coven stilled, the revelation stunning them into silence. He had kept it a secret since the beginning, hoping he was wrong, but still wary of the stranger. He had watched as his coven let her in, and he had been conflicted. It was good she had fit in with them, but he wondered if push came to shove, and the time was right, what would be left of his family. He had no idea.

“Junmyeon,” Baekhyun began, his voice weak, but he was cut off.

“Get back to your house. Sleep downstairs if you have to.” Junmyeon told him, standing up and putting a firm reassuring hand on his shoulder, before he left, leaving his brother to their musings and speculations.

--------------------

Yixing had returned the day after he arrived. Yifan and the others wanted to waste no time in getting to the bottom of this. It was better to be wary. the Veil was Thinning and Samhain was almost around the corner. They had only two weeks before the 31st, and the Veil was paper thin now, and all kinds of creatures could pass through now. That is why they were now standing in front of Junmyeon’s house, which was currently also serving as the coven house.

“This is where we live now.” Yixing gestured vaguely to the neighbourhood, now coloured in browns and oranges and yellows as the trees lost their leaves and the cold settled in.

“You brought your own homes?” Zitao asked, looking around at the other houses. He could tell which house was Baekhyun’s just by looking. The stained glass windows gave it away.

“Junmyeon and Minseok got married. So did I.” Yixing explained, gesturing to two other houses, side by side with each other.

“Yifan is getting married.” Zitao told him, gesturing to the man who was currently glaring at the house in front of them.

“When?”

“When I figure out what is going on.” Yifan butted in, agitated at the idea that he would have to stay with Junmyeon as they figure out the prophecy.

As if by some great providence, Junmyeon had walked out of his front door, Winnie and Minseok following closely behind him.

“Junmyeon.” Yifan greeted, shaking the other man’s hand, and despite the anger he felt mere seconds ago, he could not bring himself to loath him.

“Yifan. Welcome home.” Junmyeon spoke, letting the lot into his home.

“Is it home?” Yifan asked, and Junmyeon tried to find anger and resentment. When he found none of that, and instead was greeted by his genuine question, he smiled. It was weak and small, but it was real. As if by magic, he felt the pieces of his heart pull together, for a brief moment e remembered what it was like to be whole, and when the feeling faded, he tried chasing it, wanting to feel the same love and content, even if for just a few more seconds.

“We are one coven and one Circle. Your home is my home.” Junmyeon told them, leading them into the living room, where the rest of his coven waited, patiently anticipating their brother’s return. Even if it was just temporary.

“It’s good to be home.” Lu Han was the first to speak, his eyes falling on Sehun and Minseok, side by side as they looked on with hope at their arrival.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Sehun spoke, voice thick when he spoke, and the two didn’t wait any longer before they fell into each other’s arms. Their coven was whole, and although their hearts needed time, Lu Han could tell they would mend. It was their destiny.

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dirthavarens · 3 years

Text

Mirani Lavellan Bio;;

I have an entire history for this beautiful darling and haven’t had such an in-depth story for a character in a very long while.

As a child, Mirani Lavellan was a rambunctious sort, playing and tumbling as all young Dalish do. She learned the way of the bow by her mother’s teachings, while her father drowned her in lore and stories of the Dales. The legends fascinated her beyond measure. Young, wide-eyed, and captivated, the child knew she had to discover everything there was to know, even the stories that were forgotten. That was until, of course, she began to show great potential as a mage at the age of nine.

The Keeper had talked to the family years before, when the babe had been born, telling them that he sensed magic within her and if it came to fruition there would hardly be room for her in the Clan. Her father, Hairen, swore to the Keeper that she would pose no threat. Mirani’s mother, Asalai, however, wished to err on the side of caution, and asked if the Keeper would take to training the young girl enough to help contain her magic.

There was already a Keeper and a First of the age of twenty; with no room for a third mage in the Clan, she could possibly prove dangerous. It was the First to the Keeper, Athara, who proposed an alternative. She approached both the Keeper and Mirani’s parents and promised to take her on as her own apprentice. Destruction was not the only use of magic, as the Dalish well knew, and it was often the burden on mages to hold sacred the knowledge of the People.

With an agreement met, Mirani began her training, much to the disapproval of the rest of the clan. The Old Ways were being ignored. Of course, this meant great strides had to be made by the First.

Athara quelled the disquiet of the Clan by appealing to their Dalish pride. The Elvhen were of the first mages and their ties to the Fade were stronger than any other. It was Mirani’s right to be a part of the Clan, to hold dear the ancient truth that thrummed in the heart of every Dalish elf. She was safer among her own than left to the fate of the shem Circles and their templars.

Clan Lavellan tolerated her magical abilities due to her conviction in controlling them, despite her aptitude to find benevolent spirits in the Fade. Demons often sought her out in her youth, coming time and again in her dreams to tempt and taunt and try to possess. Athara taught her how to avoid demons and how to denounce them, even in the Fade.

With her training, Mirani never surrendered to these troubling entities, but often found herself running in her dreams. It was a truth she withheld from all but Athara. She was not a dreamer, but something similar to it, tied infinitely to the Beyond. This led her to several places in the Fade unfamiliar to even the Keeper of their clan. No matter where they ventured, which was far and often, Mirani made new discoveries in the fade and picked up more of the Elven language than most.

At the age of fifteen, only six years into her training, she decided to devote her efforts in both the waking and dreaming worlds studying her people’s history. The real history, and began taking little faith in the Dalish legends. Naturally, Hairen protested vehemently in the way she went about it. After all that she had learned in the Beyond, it was hard to take legends entirely on faith alone. Mortal men make mistakes in recounts of the truth over time, but echoes of spirits and memories long forgotten could hardly lie.

The Creators became more of cautionary tales to her rather than true Gods and the only ones she came to genuinely care for were Mythal and June. When it came time for her vallaslin, her keeper thought it best to exclude someone as noteworthy and powerful as Mythal. Instead, she received June’s mark, as she was a crafter in her own right. While she did not fashion bows or teach her people to hunt, she used what knowledge she gained to help her clan forge new devices from ancient information; new wards from old magic.

Only years later, when her research led her to explore the nebulous Fen’Harel, did her clan truly fear for her. The Dread Wolf who locked away the gods and kept them from ever reaching their people was to be feared and chased away at every turn. Never mention his name unless to curse another, was the philosophy held by the Lavellan. Mirani turned her back on such mythos, choosing instead to dive into whatever trace of the legend she could find. Mostly, her research led to dead ends and more questions than answers. Why lock away the gods both good and bad? Why only let himself roam free when nothing changed except the Elvhen? Why want all of that power and do nothing with it?

Unless there was more to the tale.

Her research often led her from the Clan, putting her in direct contact with humans and other hostile creatures. It was an acceptable tradeoff in the Clan’s eyes. With the third mage gone and Mirani left to her studies, both could peacefully exist. It was in nature and seclusion that she managed to fine-tune her magic, calling on whatever aid she could, often from spirits and the elements themselves.

On occasion, Athara and one of the Clan’s younger hunters, Terhavel, would join her, if only to keep her safe. But Clan duties would always call them back. Mirani held little against them. She would thank them for their companionship, but ultimately be relieved when they parted ways.

She found peace in the forests, taking days, if not weeks, to laze in the trees and befriend the benign wildlife. She would dive into untouched ruins and try to make sense of them. Oftentimes, they were of the Imperium, but that hardly stopped her from exploring.

However, exploring ruins did not come without a price. Ancient wards and traps were often still active and she was not impervious to them. At the age of twenty-four, a flame ward had been tripped and the entirety of her back was scorched. Luckily, she had not been far from camp and managed the walk back home if only thanks to the elemental magic she applied to her back.

The Keeper took the time to caution her of the path she wandered down, telling her that no good would come of it. If she continued on, she would find what she was looking for, for good or ill and he feared that it would not turn in her favor.

Even Athara found it impossible to fully sympathize with Mirani’s cause. Forging a path to such a dangerous destination could only result in tragedy. Asalai entreated her daughter to abandon the hunt and return to the Clan for good. She could trade books and such in the shem world, find rare gems if she could.

For a time, Mirani agreed, if only to appease those she cared for. The wound on her back kept her from leaving the Clan’s camp for what felt like ages, anyway. It was at that time she began to commit everything she learned to paper. Notes and drawings were scattered within her tent. The hunter, who had joined her, Terhavel, had become more and more of a friend as the days passed. Before long, the two went against tradition and found that they were physically compatible. Neither was in love with the other and thus complications remained at the wayside. There was no secret romance to hide, no awkward family discussion, no approval from the Keeper, just sex and studies.

When he showed interest in another of the Clan months later, Mirani actively encouraged him to pursue her and neither spoke of what happened between them. Within the year, Terhavel and his heart’s desire were bonded.

In her dreams, she tried to search for the spirits that had aided her for years, but found an eerie silence. It felt as though someone had intentionally thickened the Veil around her, beating on a wall where a door had once been. She felt drained most days, her magic weaker than before. The injury had long since healed, and yet she was still fatigued.

That was when she noticed the Keeper acting strangely as well. A quiet night at the fire with her father telling another Dalish folktale to the children brought about a great change in Mirani’s perspective. She caught sight of the Keeper looking lethargic and pulled him discreetly from the fire. When she inquired what was wrong, he insisted nothing, that it had been an especially trying year for all of Clan Lavellan.

The following night, Mirani slipped away from camp, choosing instead to sleep away from her fellow Dalish and found her magic and vitality restored. A suspicion that hadn’t crossed her mind had not only crept in but had been confirmed.

Then, Athara appeared from the underbrush.

Now twenty-five and old enough to know what trouble looked like as it approached; Athara looked like trouble.

“I fought against the decision to dispel you,” she professed before Mirani could offer a greeting. The night was warm and the breeze gentle from where the younger mage sat perched among a tangle of branches. Yet the words of her mentor wrapped around her like ice. “I even tried to override his spell, but he threatened to remove me as the First.”

“If this is your attempt at an apology, I would start over,” Mirani replied flatly. Her heart sat squarely in the pit of her stomach. How could the one person she trusted above all not tell her? “Why?”

“He feared you would leave again, that you would be possessed or killed. Deshanna wants only for you to be safe. He saw no other option that led to you remaining among us, da’len,” Athara explained as she took her place at the base of the tree.

Mirani gave a sigh and rubbed at her temples. They were Dalish, the so-called last of the Elvhen, yet she was caged at every turn. Caged for being a mage, caged for being a researcher, caged for exploring and leaving the camp. No wonder Circle mages were growing restless. They had to remain in the same building their entire lives; her tower at least had fresh air.

“Then maybe it’s time I take my leave. For good, this time.” Perhaps it was the only way.

“Lethallan, you would consider surrendering to the Keeper’s whims instead of finding another way? There are many in the Clan who admire you for what you do. They would never voice their support so actively, but you are not without friends among your clansfolk. Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel may be as stubborn as halla with a thorn in her hoof, but he is not without reason. Speak to him. You are a voice among our people, he must listen.”

Mirani looked out into the forest surrounding them and watched as the creatures of the night scurried about. Reasoning with the Keeper was hardly an easy task, even harder for her, given the rampant disapproval of her work. She knew she could survive on her own, but where would she go otherwise? The life of a roaming apostate would not be easy, especially in the Free Marches. With the proximity for Kirkwall and the rumors pouring from other Clans and the shems they encountered, there was a chance she would be caught and forced into Kirkwall’s Circle.

In order to make the Keeper see reason, she had to find it for herself first. Athara was always damnably talented at helping her do so.

“Alright. I’ll speak with him. If I can at least have my shackles removed, I’ll be content enough for now. I had no intentions of leaving permanently until this, Athara. If the Keeper cannot be made to see reason, then I won’t make promises to stay for it is one I cannot keep,” she declared, her defeated words an echo of the ache she felt deep into her soul.

“Should I tell the Keeper you will return in the morning, then?” asked her former mentor. “He will come looking for you if nothing is said and I’d rather avoid conflict if possible.”

“Tell him what you want. I need tonight to think.”

Athara turned to leave.

“And Athara?” Mirani called down to her. “Thank you for coming to talk to me.”

She smiled. “Anything for you, da’len. I just wish it was under better circumstances. I sometimes miss our old adventures.”

Mirani said nothing in return, only nodded her agreement.

The following morning brought the debate, Mirani now with a level-head spoke to her Keeper. Deshanna was displeased with Athara, but there was nothing to be done about it. He had been found out and his reasons were selfish ones.

“I see now, da’len, how my intentions could be misconstrued,” Deshanna surrendered. “You are no immediate danger to our Clan, but there are other dangers that could arise from your endless hunt.”

“So rendering me too weak to use my powers would accomplish that? Would you strip a curious hunter of her bow when she found a decent hunting ground?” Her return was level, but fueled by the betrayal she felt. “Keeper, I devoted my life to serving this Clan as a researcher and historian. I am not a teller of tales as my father. Nor am I a hunter of my mother’s skill. I am simply a mage caught in an old fear of a gift granted to us simply by our Elven blood. I would never harm the Clan or abandon it simply to fuel my own ego. This is our history I’m looking into. I just want to get the story straight. I fail to see how my magic interferes with the truth.”

“You’ve made your case, Mirani. I am not here to doubt your commitment to Clan Lavellan. There was another mage, the first to her clan, who resorted to blood magic to find answers about the people. I did not want to see you share her fate.”

She knew of whom the Keeper spoke. A member of the Mahariel clan had left her people to restore a corrupted eluvian. There were even rumors that she bargained with a demon to do so. It seemed blood magic and demons often went hand-in-hand. But demons posed a threat to any mage.

It was Athara who spoke from Mirani’s side.

“She would not resort to such desperate measures, Keeper. In the years I have traveled with her into whatever ruins she found, never had it even crossed her mind. I taught her the dangers of such practices early on in her training. She knows the horrors it brings.”

“I do not believe I was speaking to you, Athara. She was not to know the ward on her was present,” Deshanna snapped back. It was the first time he raised his voice.

“It should not have been placed upon her in the first place. I tried to tell you before that she wo--”

“It’s alright, Athara. You don’t need to speak for me. Ma melava halani. And for that you have my sincerest gratitude,” Mirani placed a hand on Athara’s shoulder in thanks before returning her attention to the Keeper. “To you, I make this promise, if any of my research proves too dangerous I will withdraw. If it leads me to something that may bring harm to the Clan, I will not return.”

“I do not want it to come to that, da’len, but I fear there is no changing your mind,” the Keeper relented with dissatisfaction. He took a moment’s pause then with a great breath and a few Elvhen words, lifted the hex. “It brings me sorrow to see the path you wander, but I know I cannot halt your footsteps any further.”

The next three years were spent as they had been before, this time with Mirani having at least one hunter with her at all times when she left the camp. The Keeper said it was for protection, but she was certain it was to supervise her like a child. She limited her expeditions to a week at the longest and did not plunge as deeply into caverns and ruins as she wished.

Then came the news from the shem world. The Conclave between mages and templars was something of great interest to all living people, from elves to qunari. There was little argument from Mirani when the Keeper tasked her with finding out what exactly was going on. This would be the farthest she traveled from Clan Lavellan, a chance to truly stretch her legs and get a sight of the outside world beyond trade and occasional run-ins.

She said her goodbyes to her parents and a few others of the Dalish wished her safe travels and offered items for her to take on the journey. Her final goodbye was to the woman who mentored her. Athara knew the farewell was permanent, that Mirani would not be returning to the Clan. If there was news to be had of the Conclave, it would come in the form of a letter and perhaps a package useful to the people.

They kept their goodbye short, not wanting to keep the other from her duties, but not so short that Athara could not offer her a necklace with a small carved halla head and a statuette of a wolf.

“I know you have your doubts in the Creators, but may Ghilan’nain guide you and Fen’Harel never find you.” Athara’s words were laden with the tears that could not fall from her eyes as she placed the necklace upon her. She wrapped her arms around Mirani and held her tightly in an embrace. “You are as graceful and as beautiful as the halla and as valiant and strong as the wolf. May your journey be a blessed one, da’len. Dareth shiral.”

“Ma serannas, Athara. Keep the Clan safe. I will try to send good news,” Mirani promised as she tucked the wolf into her pack.

The journey from the Free Marches to Ferelden was made with both excitement and caution. The humans she dealt with looked down upon her for being both an elf and Dalish. She was even more looked down upon when she revealed her magic in a moment of defense. One of the sailors tried to get too close whilst drunk and ended up with burn marks along his hands and chest. The rest debated throwing her overboard, but she remained well-hidden for the remainder of the voyage.

tl;dr? she’s not the first to her keeper and she’s basically a fade nerd who likes to nap and find new magics to test out as well as learn elvhen history. i stan, thank you.

#my writing #???#is that a thing i can tag this as #idk #but anyway #lavellan #dragon age #inquisition #dai #mirani lavellan #she's my baby and i stan her so hard

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gloves94 · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 13

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Bullying!

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

"Is it true she hasn't spoken to anyone since?" "Yeah," one of the Slytherin third years said before twirling a knot of red spaghetti on his fork and spoon. "Even past her birthday."

"Didn't even go to the Quidditch match no matter how much Davis insisted."

"What does Nott say?" Another asked as he drank his pumpkin juice.

The boy speaking shrugged and let out an incoherent sound.

"I don't think she's said much to either. She's mostly been keeping to herself," Blaise whispered as the four Slytherin boys kept a close eye on the dark-haired girl that was quietly eating just a couple of seats away from them. "Do you think she's-" Crabbe began his voice on edge. "Plotting something?" Goyle finished for him. "She hasn't been taking any clients either."

"I'm sure that must be especially hard on you," Malfoy sneered at his goons nastily. To this day he wasn't really sure if either of them actually knew how to read or write. He did know that the two had been almost singlehandedly funding Nel's underground empire of illicit homework and class notes. At this point she must've amassed at least a small fortune; he couldn't help but wonder just what she was possibly saving it for. She certainly hadn’t splurged on that fancy quill back at Hogsmeade.

They all once again turned to look at her in an indiscrete fashion. Nel could feel their eyes on her. This irritated her to no end. She fought the urge to tell them to take a picture or go flog themselves. It was then that their gazes shifted when they saw no other than Harry Potter turning around from the Gryffindor table. They all shot daggers at him.

"Hey," Harry greeted. She raised her head and looked at him with a dead expression on her face before taking a bite from a bread roll.

The humiliation from last week's incident wasn't what was keeping Elowen in an emotionally shut down mode. There were more than a handful of problems in Nel Saintday's hands at the moment that had seniority over whatever bullying the other Slytherins had done to her. She still couldn’t summon a Patronus or even think of one particularly joyous memory to use with the charm. The many Dementors in the area were beginning to become a problem once knocking her out on way to Herbology class. Not to mention Professor Snape’s “emotional control lessons” we’re going terrible. Also, what did he know about controlling his emotions to begin with? As far as anybody knew Professor Snape was a heartless, fowl nosed, prick.

Worst of all was that she still didn’t know who had dropped her off at the abbey. She doubted if Malfoy had even known from the start. She felt foolish for even thinking he could’ve been a friend to her. She tried not to remember how nice he had been that day at Hogsmeade or how lovely his music was. Just like her Patronus, this memory had been corrupted too, it wasn’t real.

It wasn’t him.

“Did you hear that Professor Lupin is back?” Harry asked attempting to start a conversation. She said nothing in return and stared at him with a blank expression.

“I’ll see you tonight then?” He asked. She was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Harry,” her voice was hoarse at first. “What if I can’t summon a Patronus?” Her eyes filled with pain as she asked the question which had been burdening her.

The Slytherin boys kept a close eye in the Gryffindor as he turned and instead took a seat before her in the Slytherin table.

Draco couldn’t help but glare daggers at Harry.

Saint Potter.

So perfect.

So opportunistic.

Always so damn polite.

Can’t help but gloat his goodness.

All Potter wanted was a show, why else would he have actually dared to sit in the Slytherin table? He wanted to be taught a lesson. He had to be asking for it. Malfoy was so sick of him. He seemed to be unescapable. He hated how much Potter was worshiped at school. How he couldn’t even escape him at home where his father seemed to be just as intrigued with Scarhead’s life; always probing questions about him and not his own son. It was the same thing with Saintday. He had never figured out why his father seemed to be so fascinated with the orphan girl. Why he spoke to her so respectfully almost as if he had some cold veneration towards her. Both Saintday and Potter were the same, they were names that were probably more familiar to his father’s tongue than Draco’s own name. Malfoy looked at the hopeful smile on Potter’s face as he interacted with Saintday. How dully typical of Potter acting in charity towards the most vulnerable members of the school.

Nel on the other hand…

His eyes shifted to the sad look in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt her like that. He hadn’t meant for Zabini and the others to find out about their trip to Hogsmeade. That trip was something that was supposed to be his and only his.

He hated to think about that one Christmas Eve night the two had spent together last year. It had been his first Christmas away from home and from his family. The Ministry was running raids at the time seeking for cursed artifacts relating to the Dark Arts and You-Know-Who. Artifacts he knew were hidden home. One wrong move, a misplaced book, wand or item and his family would lose everything. His father would go to jail. Their name would be stained with disgrace. What would happen to his mother?

He had written to his father that day concerned about his well-being and instead received a scolding Howler in return instructing him to shut up, not write home, and keep a close eye on the happenings involving the Chamber of Secrets. There had been no Happy Christmas wishes or loving expressed concerns for his son. He had been miserable that night. He had even cried in the second-floor girl’s bathroom where he knew nobody would see or hear him.

He still remembered the blank expression on her face when she approached him in the Slytherin Common room that night. He had seen her with the Weasley twins earlier. Two people who Malfoy thought were actually really funny although he would never publicly admit it.

There was no way he could’ve hidden his swollen red face from her. She had to have known he had been crying that night.

"Lost something Slugbreath?" He had insulted defensively hoping she’d go away before she laughed or mocked him.

"Are you okay?"

Nobody had ever asked him that simple question before. Not his friends, not his father, not a single professor least of all his family. Proper composure was simply something that was expected of him, emotional nonsense was absolutely unacceptable in the Malfoy household. It was seen as an unnecessary weakness.

She didn’t have to stop and nosey in on his well-being. She didn’t have to drag him to the servant-quarters, feed him that disgusting looking sandwich that was warm tasted like Christmas and keep him company from his loneliness. This uncommon kindness was rare to him. Maybe some of the other Slytherin girls would’ve asked if he was okay. Maybe Parkinson would’ve attempted to snog him, but none would’ve kept him company like she did. He knew he certainly wouldn’t have done the same and least of all for her.

Like Potter, Saintday was an orphan. Something he partially envied. Both weren’t chain-balled to a golden name with high expectations and standards to maintain and live up to. Expectations that had been set for him from the moment of his birth into a life of privilege. As the sole heir of the Malfoy name, Draco had a lot to live up to. His friendships had to be well rounded with other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood families in England no matter how despicable or dull this company was. He had to be the best in class, Quidditch Team, socially agreeable, he was certain that in the future he’d even have to marry a Pureblooded witch. These expectations confined him since his infancy and allowed no room for second guessing or mistakes.

What would Potter ever know about that? Or even Elowen.

He hadn’t expected for the Three Broomsticks to blow up. For her to set him and Blaise on fire. He wasn’t even aware Elowen had those kinds of problems.

He wanted to be friends with her. Her pranks were funny, and she had been nice to him. Not to mention bloody brilliant at Charms. But how could the two of them ever be friends? How? What would his family think? His father had that morbid fascination for her. But his mother? His mother was the most important person in his life, and he was certain she’d be more than disappointed in him if he decided to willingly keep that type of company around.

Elowen would never fit in to his world.

Born with no name, no blood right, dressed in rags, possessing atrocious manners and an infamously ill temperament. The thought of having her for dinner with his family… It would be a catastrophe. He had no doubt plates would be thrown and something would probably explode.

He had long decided it was best to stay away from her.

The words left his mouth before he even realized.

“Come have lunch with your girlfriend Potter?” He butted loudly.

Neither acknowledged him. Regardless, the other Slytherins laughed at his comment. This only made Draco more determined to get under their skins.

"I can understand having your dog Weasley as your beating man, but isn’t it pathetic making your girlfriend fight your fights for you Potter?" He said referencing what had happened in Care for Magical Creatures the other day.

Last time Nel had met with Lupin he had advised her to try and see the best in people. Even in the worst ones. He had advised to try to be empathetic and think about what the other person could be going through. She guessed he felt that if she saw the world in a more positive light it might help come up with a Patronus worthy memory. However, when she thought of Malfoy… All she could see was a smug, spoiled thirteen-year-old. The boy had literally had everything and more in the world. He had absolutely no reason or excuse to act like such an arse all the time. In her eyes this made him disgusting.

“Sodd off Malfoy,” Harry shot him a glare before turning his attention to his friend.

“Wish you could’ve been at Hogsmeade Potter. The trip was a blast!” He said mockingly inferring to the explosion. Nel stiffened at the mentioning of Hogsmeade. Of course, Harry knew what Malfoy was referring too. Hell, the whole school knew.

Harry was about to retort something clever but instead Nel’s wand beat him to it. That had been more than enough empathetic thinking for the day. The noodles in each of their plates came to life and leeched over the Slytherin boys’ heads pulling them down suffocating them in a plate with sauce and meatballs. She didn’t stick around to wait and see their reactions leaving just as fast.

“I’m sorry about them,” Harry apologized as he jogged outside of the Great Hall to catch up to his friend.

“Why should you be? It’s not your fault they were dropped on their heads when they were born.”

Harry would’ve laughed if her expression wasn’t so sullen.

“I don't think I have a memory strong enough to cast a Patronus,” she admitted regrettably.

“There has to be something, Nel,” he insisted positively. It had also been hard for Harry to summon a charm of his own. “But like Professor Lupin said, we have to be positive.”

Professor Lupin had said a lot of things… “Maybe there is…” She spoke half-heartedly. “But bad things have happened to the people in them. They’ve all left my life. The root of the memory itself might be good, but by association it has become bitter.” Almost as if a mist of fear and abonnement corrupted and poisoned her Patronus.

“Why don't we go make some memories then?” Harry suggested optimistically with a friendly smile. She eyed him cautiously. Her nature of being doubtful and wary of other people’s kind gestures almost made her think it was probably some kind of trick.

“Sure,” She said after a moment of hesitation. Afterall what was the worst thing that could happen?

The two decided to go and play with some Gobstones in the courtyard before going to Lupin’s and it was actually a pleasant time.

“Don’t get frustrated,” Lupin said to her as she failed to summon a Patronus yet again. “Be patient.”

“Be good. Make good memories,” he kindly reassured her with a small smile before giving her a chocolate bar.

Part of her felt that the professor was slowly conditioning her to like him with the chocolate bars he gave her. He was also unusually kind. He almost seemed to genuinely care about her and Harry unlike most of the other professors. She hated to admit it, but it was working, he was starting to grow on her.

Nel was more than frustrated still at-least now she was able to stop herself before she released that ominous corrupted orb that seemed to emit from her Patronus.

Harry couldn’t summon one which was refreshing considering everything seemed to come easy to him.

Lupin’s lessons had been slowly progressing at the pace of a snail. Snape’s were practically advancing at the same pace.

“I told you Saintday to empty yourself of emotion! Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance!” Snape instructed pointing his wand at her face from across his crowded office.

“Why do I have to do this?” She rasped as she looked at him with a wounded expression.

The Potions Master had been attempting to pry into her mind in order to agitate her explosive emotions. She found it disturbing allowing him to witness all of the terrible things she had endured throughout her life. Maybe this was an emotional control training but Nel almost felt as if it was more as if he was almost preparing her for something bigger. It almost seemed personal to him.

“Next time you go off like a firecracker somebody could die because of your infantile emotions. You must tame yourself! Empty yourself or emotion. Do not allow me to penetrate your mind with such absurd ease.”

“Please… stop,” she pleaded lowering her head as she sank deeper into the uncomfortable desk chair that was across from him. Sweat stains stained her clothes as she attempted to compose herself. "Brace yourself." He warned.

It was then that she felt him enter her mind again. She winced as he witnessed all of her most vulnerable moments. Good days at the orphanage with Lucy, being locked in and crying and banging on the door of the laundry room to get out, cheering for Tracey at the Quidditch try outs, consoling her when she didn’t make it for the second year in a row, Malfoy tapping her shoulder making me turn around in the middle of Astronomy and pretending he wasn’t the one doing it. Hexing some Hufflepuffs that were bullying Bullstrode during dinner, the time Parkinson made her barf slugs in the middle of the Common Room.

“Make me stop!” She could hear Snape’s voice in her head.

The vials I’m the room rattled threatening to explode before she let out a throaty scream as she for the first time managed to successfully slam the door of her thoughts on him. She was exhausted, completely drained, cold sweat beads sliding down her temple as she caught her breath.

“Sir… this is unhealthy… I’ll be good. I promise,” she begged him to stop these torturous lessons.

“If this will keep you from blowing up yourself and the school it’ll be worth it. You did well, some progress for once.”

Snape raised his wand and pointed it straight in between her eyes. It might’ve been some progress, but it was not enough for him. He had to do his best in teaching her how to close her mind from others. She had to be at least good enough to keep You-Know-Who-Out…

“Again.”

Xxxxx

“Hey Saintday heard you-“ Pansy’s shrill commanding voice was interrupted when a yellow potion vial was thrown across the room and cracked open against her black bed post.

“Shut your beak Parkinson,” Nel said mindlessly not removing her eyes from the beanie she was attempting to knit. No matter how much she knit she was never very good at it. Maybe it was because she was usually distracted or trying to multitask which lead to most of her crafts having gaping holes or being wavy and uneven on the sides.

She didn’t even enjoy Pansy’s transformation into a large yellow canary.

“Will you two stop it?” Daphne snapped at the two girls looking up from a canvas she was currently painting on. “It is so annoying to see you two fight over the pettiest of things!” She huffed exasperated.

“You’re too sensitive,” Millicent said to Greengrass before helping the giant canary to Madame Pomfrey’s.

“Thanks Daph,” Tracey shot her a lopsided smile as she leafed through a Quidditch magazine.

“Can’t even concentrate with these two in the room,” she shot Nel a look before returning to her painting. The girl smirked slightly in her direction.

Like the past two years before, Elowen was to spend the Winter break and Christmas in the castle. She was hoping this would mean no more emotional control lessons with Professor Snape but boy was she wrong. Snape had instead cited her into his office every day to torture her with these painful lessons. He almost seemed to have an urgency in her mastering the subject. In her time with him she felt almost some empathy towards the older man. Why was he so bitter? Why was he so alone that he had nothing better to do but to educate her over the Christmas holiday? Maybe his loneliness had caused him to be this way.

It seemed like the only people that were staying over the break that Nel knew of were Harry and his friends.

Having a terrible headache and overall just being drained from working on her lessons all night Nel stayed in the Slytherin Common Room Christmas Eve. Loneliness had grown to be her only company. The dim green lights of the dormitory were soothing. It was unusually quiet, almost peaceful. That night Nel stayed up all night knitting one extra pair of black hand gloves. She later ventured into the kitchens to help herself to a Christmas leftover sandwhich.

The next morning, she awoke not expecting more than two Christmas gifts instead under the tree but instead there were a handful lot. Some chocolates from Professor Lupin, a chocolate frog from Harry, “The Tales of Beadle the Bard” from Theodore and a Quidditch t-shirt from Tracey's favorite team. Something Nel suspected she'd borrow often. Under the Christmas tree at the very end there was a small black box. No tag. It simply had her name written on it. She pulled the string that held it together and opened it to reveal the fancy black feathered quill she had been eyeing back at the shop in Hogsmeade. It came with a pack of violet ink and some parchment.

There was no way.

She eyed the quill curiously wondering if it was cursed.

There was only one other person that knew she had wanted this specific quill set. Nobody else knew. She hadn't mentioned it to another soul, but there was no absolute way. There was no way in hellMalfoy had bothered to gift her something so thoughtful. Again, she wondered if it was from Professor Snape. Considering he had actually been inside of her head. This was just like the sweater from last year.

Later that same day Nel arrived to Professor Snape’s office ready for her lessons. She’d ask him if he had been the mysterious character behind this year’s quill and last year’s fine sweater.

Snape didn’t look or act as if it was Christmas day. He was dressed in his classic noir fashion hovering over some parchments he was grading. Nel couldn’t help but wonder if her professor did anything for Christmas or if he even received any gifts. Did he have parents? Or was he an orphan like her too?

“Professor, sir,” Nel stood before his desk rolling her weight on the balls of her feet. She held the humble gift behind her back. Slowly he raised his head simply acknowledging her.

"Happy Christmas, Professor, I made these for you," She offered the gift to him. He looked at the knitted material in her hands. Standing up he rounded around his desk and took them from her hands hesitation. Snape looked down at the knitted gloves he was holding and clutched them tightly. It was probably the worst gift he had ever received. They had many small holes and he was sure the finger spaces were too short on some odd ones. She might as well have given him a lump of trash.

The professor said nothing, he turned around and placed the ugly gloves on the desk and turned his back to her. Nel looked at the back of his dark head oddly. Did he hate them? She knew she wasn't the best knitter but a thank you would've been appreciated…

"It…" He grumbled, his voice sounding loud and heavy in the silence that the two shared. "It may not have escaped your notice Saintday, but life isn't fair." He spoke ominously.

She blinked twice confused by his words. “Sir?” Snape always knew more than he was letting on. Specially about Elowen Saintday… It hadn't been a coincidence that Dumbledore had asked him to escort her to Diagon Alley when she was first introduced to the Wizarding World. He had connected the dots and knew it wasn't a coincidence that her wand was composed of omens of death, that she could see Therstals, that she could speak to snakes. He knew what was to come and what would be expected of the girl and he was sure he hadn’t been the only one who had connected the dots. "Get out," he said quietly his fingers pressing into the edges of his desk.

She looked at him with innocent concern. "Professor Snape?" She prodded sounding almost concerned.

"Get out!" He roared in a dangerous tone that made the girl flinch and scrambled out of the room. It was almost as if her small gestured had triggered something in the man. She closed the door behind her and looked at the closed wooden door. Half of her was expecting to hear violent crashing noises but instead there was only silence. She made a mental note never to gift Professor Snape anything ever again in her life. Specially gloves. Maybe Snape really was beyond reason. As she stood outside, she heard loud cackling. Looking up she saw Peeves translucent body levitating above her carrying buckets that seemed to swoosh with a dark foul smelling liquid. Smirking, having nothing better to do, she decided to follow after the poltergeist she felt a perverse fondness for.

Xxx

A couple of weeks later the school term resumed and the Slytherin girl was happy to see her friends. She was also happy to know that most of their knitted gifts had turned out alright and fit their heads well. Tracey specially loved her since hers had been made with the yellow and blue colors of the Puddlemere United.

Of course, that meant that her main tormentor was back. She suspected Malfoy had given her the quill she was using in class yet said nothing to him. She didn’t have enough evidence and the thought was offsetting enough it. Besides, next time the coward should put his name on the tag. She didn’t know why he had decided he was in a mood in the middle of History of Magic. He had been passing notes to her in the middle of class. She never bothered opening of reading. However, as the class passed by and she refused to give him an ounce of attention his teasing evolved from note passing to throwing balled up parchments to the back of her head and eventually tapping her shoulder and pulling her hair.

“You did your hair different today Saintday, any particular reason why?” He leaned across his desk and whispered. Of course, he had noticed that today she was wearing her medium length hair on a low ponytail over her shoulder.

“So, you won’t pull at it you entitled prick,” she retorted through gritted teeth shooting him a nasty glare her patience growing from thin to nonexistent.

You’d think Professor Binns would notice the two students bickering in the back of the class. Even Granger shot them a look to quiet down since they were disturbing her learning. At some point during the class Nel became so fed up she turned and casted a bat-boogey hex on Malfoy which made monstrously green bats made out of mucus painfully fly out of his nose. The students in the room roared with laughter at the painful sight.

“Merlin, you’re unbearable Saintday!” he managed to speak in a nasal voice both of his hands were attempting to cover his nose.

Served him well for being a snotty prick. Whatever it was Malfoy had been planning on snapping with she wasn’t expecting what he said next.

“This is why your parents didn’t want you!”

His words were sharp and dropped making the room immediately grow silent. You could hear a pin drop as the laughter in the room ceased. The only voice in the background being Binns dull lecturing about who-even-cares what. Even the Slytherins sitting around him looked at him struck by the cruel comment. The only person laughing was Pansy Parkinson. Nel visibly recoiled at his spiteful words.

He had struck a low nerve.

Just in cue class was dismissed and she quickly exited the room before the tears could begin to sting her eyes.

Draco watched her back as she left the room before anybody could say or do anything for her. It was then that he felt someone shove him.

“What is your problem?” He was surprised to see Theodore Nott out of all people aggressively shove at him. “She has feelings you fucking arse.” He glowered at him, a chilly green-eyed glare before stalking off after his friend. Tracey shook her head and followed after him looking almost disturbed.

Even Blaise looked at Malfoy with uneasiness. Maybe he had crossed the line this time…

“Don’t pay any attention to Nott,” Pansy snorted as she reached Malfoy’s side. “You know he chases after her like some sort of lovesick puppy. I thought it was brilliant!” she said giddily before hugging his arm.

Daphne shook her head lightly and left. Millicent and Goyle exchange a look in the background.

Moments later Nel was exiting the Slytherin dormitory walking towards Lupin’s office to prepare herself for her evening lesson with him and Harry. Malfoy’s words still stirring in the back of her head. It was every orphan’s worst thought being unwanted. The two people who were supposed to unconditionally love and care for you – even they didn’t want you. It made her terrible fear of abandonment more real.

“Oi,” She heard the one voice she did not want to hear. “Saintday!”

She didn’t turn around. Instead she gripped her wand inside of her cloak’s pocket tighter and walked faster ignoring the person calling after her. She didn’t react until she felt a hand come down her shoulder. “Dupulso!” She casted spinning on her heel.

Malfoy staggered and fell on his bottom from the impact of her spell.

“Elowen,” he managed to speak sorely before struggling back to his feet. She looked at him with distaste and wariness.

“Stay away from me!” She shouted at him cross once again before turning away. Regardless he persisted once again reaching for her arm.

“Don’t listen to a word I say,” he insisted.

He was conflicted. He hated himself for saying what he had said. The cruel words came out before he had even realized, but he was embarrassed, frustrated and beyond irritated. She wouldn’t even look his way; wouldn’t even read the notes he had been passing her way. Didn’t even realize he had been the one to gift her the quill set she was using.

She whipped her arm away from his touch and pointed directly at the wall behind him. “Confrigo!” She casted purposely exploding a brick in the wall which created a small cavity on it. Malfoy ducked and covered his head looking at her with a shocked expression.

“Next time I won’t miss,” She threatened before turning around for the third time.

“Saintday,” again he attempted to reach her.

“Flipendo,” She was fast in her casting and with that the boy was thrown against the opposite wall of the corridor where he painfully crashed and then pitifully slid down to the floor.

Her back was already to him as she continued in her trek. He didn’t have time. Especially when she wasn’t going to stick around and listen. Specailly not after he had behaved like an arse. “I want to tell you who it was.” He said loudly trying to get her to turn around and listen to him. “I don’t want to hear it or anything that comes out of your filthy mouth Malfoy!” She screamed. She turned and glared. “Never speak to me again,” she threatened.

“I didn’t lie to you,” He attempted to bargain for her time, for her attention. “No,” She agreed. “But you lied to everybody else!” She pressed on her threatening tone getting closer. “You made me look like an idiot- and you know what? I’m glad I blew up the Three Broomsticks. And I am especially glad I set you on fire. I hope it hurt!” She spat sounding hurt. “And then today-“ She thought of what he had said to her. It had been so childish, so unnecessary. He saw her lower lip tremble before she swiftly turned in the opposite direction.

Nott’s words echoed in Draco’s head.

“She has feelings you fucking arse.”

It was probably the first time he had ever witnesses such a strong vulnerable emotion on her features. But how could he even apologize or even begin to explain to her why he felt the need to be such a complete jackass all the time? “I want to be friends,” he blurted. He eyed her fearfully dreading for the expected rejection to come.

She gave him a sour look before beginning to laugh at his words in disbelief. Okay. Maybe he did deserve that. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

“Elowen,” he pleaded in a hurt voice.

“No,” She spat in a cross tone pointing her wand at his face dangerously close. “You will NOTcall me by my name. You are NOT my friend. I don’t want to ever hear my name come out of that disgusting mouth of yours!”

“Will you please listen to me?” He insisted getting closer.

She was ready to hex him. When her wand flew out of her hand.

“Not my Draco!” An unbearably familiar voice butted between the two of them. They both turned to see Pansy who was walking in the opposite direction of them. Neither had heard her enter the dungeon or even cast the Expeliarmus.

“Have your girlfriend to fight your fights for you Malfoy?” She seethed in the anger that was beginning to boil in the pits of her stomach. Tossing an insult he had once tossed at Harry. Nel wanted to hurt them both. Especially Parkinson, but she couldn’t. She let out a low breath as she attempted to rid herself of these impulsive emotions just like Snape had taught her. What reason did Parkinson have to be so vile? Raw insecurity maybe? Who knows?

To her surprise Elowen actually gained control of her emotions. She calmly turned to face Parkinson and simply glared before her head began to swell into a balloon. She cried out and Bullstrode began escorting her to Madame Pomfrey’s.

Malfoy had her want in his hand and handed it to her. She snatched it out of his hand and shot him a dirty look before finally leaving.

Xxxxx

Throughout the rest of the year Malfoy continued wanting to want to talk to her, but at this point Nel was completely disinterested in anything he had to say. Specially about whomever had abandoned her at the abbey. As he had said whoever had done this didn’t want her so why should she want them?

His bipolar personality in which he would be nice to her one moment and then terribly rude the next, especially when the other Slytherin boys were around, didn’t help his case.

She wanted to plan and execute her terrible revenge, but Lupin had advised her no to. He was right, no matter what she did or didn’t do they wouldn’t stop. Her vengeance would be terribly sweet, but it wouldn’t make things right. Oh, but how long she longed to watch them suffer- She was learning to try something new, she was learning empathy, she was trying to understand why they were the way they were- However, today would not be the day. After all learning was a long process.

Nel sat in the Slytherin Common Room waiting for the Slytherin boys’ rude awakening. Moments later rivers of large toads and frogs came sliding down the staircase. They were big, small, some were green, and others were murky brown. They croaked and jumped to the carpet. Moments later Crabbe came running down pulling frogs out of his pants. The girl’s in the Common Room shrieked at the yucky grossness glaring in disgust. Blaise Zabini threw up. Malfoy walked down with a large frog on his blonde head as he descended down the stairs. It seemed like he had given up on getting the frogs out of his robes.

Theodore looked beyond irritated. Sadly he had been collateral damage.

She said nothing to them that morning but would often smugly ribbit at them and swell her cheeks when things were awfully quiet in the middle of class or in the common room. It had been weeks and the staff hadn’t figured out how to disenchant the plumping from pouring out amphibians instead of water. She had a feeling that Lupin knew but he didn’t have any proof.

That had been a couple of weeks ago.

Presently, Nel was in the back of the library doing some research about the history of the Patronus charm when somebody slid into the chair in front of her. She wasn’t taking any clients at the moment and with the year ending people were beginning to grow desperate for her services. She raised her wand ready to attack whomever disturbed but instead she found she couldn’t move her hand. A hand slapped over hers and pinned it against the desk roughly. Her eyes snapped up from the text she was reading to meet a pair of grey ones.

“Will you quit being a knob head and listen to me for a second?”

It was Malfoy and he looked angry.

She didn’t know if he was angry because of the frogs that had been coming out of his enchanted bathroom for weeks or his frustration of being unable to communicate with her.

“Which one of your personalities do you want me to listen to? The one that’s an insufferable arsehole or the one that’s an arrogant son of a witch?” She challenged with a nasty look.

“Can you get your head of your arse for a moment,” he asked gruffly. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for months now and every time he got close he would get either embarrassingly hexed or tossed against a nearby wall. “Can you?” She shot back and pulled her hand back from his hand grip standing up and gathering her belongings.

“Elowen, please.”

That was it. He was on her last nerve. Sodd emotional control classes with Snape. She had been more than clear with him stating she didn’t want him near her.

“Stop calling me by my name Malfoy. Stop calling me at all! I already told you!” She slammed her books on the table angrily. “You are vile, and despicable and like to humiliate others because you are so small and insignificant it makes you feel better about your sad and pitiful life! You think you’re all that because you can trace your family back a couple of generations. Big deal! Whoop-de-doo. Congratulations. But guess what? Nobody cares you freakishly albino inbreed!”

She snapped angrily almost spitting fire in his direction. Malfoy was stunned, he had never seen such an angry look in her eyes, her neck so red from the word vomit she had just hatefully spewed at him. He thought she was going to stop there but she didn’t. “Your head is so damn big I sometimes wonder if it’s so swelled up because of your massive ego or because it is filled with air! Yeah- maybe you do have a fancy name and more money than I will ever have, but what’s the use of it if it can’t buy you any manners.”

Nel caught her breath and leaned her weight on the desk. Her shoulders slumped slightly. She couldn’t believe she had said such horrible things to him. So much for her emotional control lessons. On the brightside nothing had exploded this time. She looked away from him not wanting to meet his hurt eyes. He looked pale, almost sick. It almost looked like he could have cried. She caught her breath and looked at him with hard eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered hauntingly before leaving Draco alone in the library, just as Madame Pince was rounding about to ask the students to leave her library from the loud outburst.

He knew she was never going to listen to him. She had given him no choice.

“It was Black,” he burst making her stop. “It was Sirius Black, that left you in the abbey that night.”

Not turning around she continued on her way back to the dormitory brewing on the name she hadn’t been expecting. Her heart hammering in her chest. Eyes wide in horror at the revelation.

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queenrhenpendragon · 4 years

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You know whose arc gets me every time?

Dameon’s. Dameon Maurva's arc is so beautiful and significant and affects not only himself but multiple other characters and also the entire heckin plot of the game and it moves me Every. Single. Time.

So I’m going to rant about it, welcome to the post I’ve been waiting to make for fourteen years.

First of all, this precious sun, this dear one, this absolute angel, was most likely raised mainly by an Ahriman sympathizer-- like, c'mon, am I supposed to believe Talia kept a child in the dream realm? Even without the nightmares it's dangerous, and very isolated. If something were to happen there would be nowhere she could send Dameon while she dealt with it. It’s one thing in fanfiction, but when I actually consider the logistics, either she was a truly terrible, irresponsible parent, or Dameon lived in Aveyond with his father. I've played Ahriman’s Prophecy; responsibility is Talia's middle name. Dameon was raised in Aveyond.

He has to have been a lonely child. He most likely had no human friends, and definitely none his age. Maybe the binis or fairies or sometimes Vata babysat him when Mr. Maurva was unavailable. Maybe not. Either way, such contact couldn’t replace his need for love and validation from his incredibly busy and important parents.

He probably constantly sought his parents' approval and was constantly falling short because how do you impress an immortal sun priest, millenia old and the last of his kind? Especially one who is apparently becoming disenchanted with the ideals he once fought for, the ideals his fellow priests died for. How do you impress a half-fairy who saved the world at the tender age of 17, who then became the Guardian of Dreams and is responsible for the safety and well being of every mortal creature? Especially! When! You only see them when they’re not busy keeping the universe running smoothly!

Furthermore.

Please understand that I love Talia and do not wish to vilify her in any way. I point out her flaws because I love her, because her shortcomings are so human and tragic and are part of what make the story as impactful as it is. And Talia... does not easily express affection. She is not likely to have cuddled Dameon during the times his father took him to the Dreamworld-- which just can't have been often, I just can't imagine a parent who even kind of cared about their child taking them to such a place frequently. She is not likely to have praised him or spent any notable amount of time showing interest in his interests. I do not say this to condemn her. She had a lot of responsibilities. She had never been a mother before-- and yes, she had a great example of motherhood in her Grandmama, but her own mother also left her in the care of others, abandoned her to pursue a louder call. Is it any wonder that she ultimately did the same to her own child?

She has no real relationship with Dameon. Even without all the evidence I have already laid out, this much is obvious in the way they speak to and about each other. Talia doesn't even mention Dameon is her son when she first tells Rhen about him. She gives him no more than an epithet, "Dameon, the sun priest." She does not express particular concern over his safety, even though she knows the druids are in danger and she herself was almost killed.

And Dameon calls her “mother,” and it is not because of the dialogue style of the game. Talia calls her parental figure “Grandmama.” Rhen calls Tailor “Pa” and “Daddy,” and Ma is known only as “Ma.” But Dameon calls Talia “Mother,” and his father “Father,” because that is the level of familiarity between them. The Maurvas live a strict, solitary life. Is it any wonder that Dameon is stiff and formal at the beginning? Is it any wonder he struggles to connect with others beyond a thoughtful compliment or an antiquated form of greeting? He doesn’t like himself, let alone trust himself. No one has ever taught him how to. He is so isolated, and lonely, and touch-starved, and unloved, and if that was the end of his character it would still move me. But there is more.

Talia literally killed his father, her own husband. It had to have happened when Dameon was still very young. If you take into account Devin’s apparent age, and the fact that a barely-aged Jack in av2 remembers Alicia as queen of Thais when we know that you can only ascend to the throne of Thais if you are married, and a few other details which I would be happy to pull up if anyone is interested, you will realize that Dameon can’t possibly be more than a year older than Rhen. More likely, he is younger, and this would be in line with the other canon ships we see throughout the Aveyond series.

And we found out in Rhen’s Quest that his father was murdered “many years ago.” MANY! YEARS! He was still a child, maybe 11 years old, at my best guess. He most likely hadn’t even attended a magic school yet. It’s possible he wasn’t even thinking about it. And then he had to take the position as Druid of Light. When he was a child, still mourning the death of the person most precious to him, at the hands of the only other person he could have had any semblance of a relationship with in all of Aia.

The people who were supposed to be teaching Dameon how to be gentle, loyal, and upright instead taught him how to hurt, and betray, and murder those closest to him. Even without Ahriman's influence, how is a child raised in that environment supposed to turn out healthy and good?

And yet he is still good! He is gentle and thoughtful towards not just Rhen but everyone he meets on the quest. That includes heckin MAD MARGE if you forgot. That includes an actual ogre. That includes people who are spiteful and dismissive towards him. He treats Rhen like she outranks him, the Guardian of the Sun, when she is still a peasant with a practice sword. He is kind to literally everyone except Talia, and he is at least respectful even to her. He never raises his voice at her. He never calls her anything except Mother. Never traitor, never murderer, never any of the curses we know Amanda had no qualms about using because she used them plenty in AP. Just Mother.

In fact he appears to be the reason Ahriman decided against killing Talia. Yes, Dameon wants justice for his murdered father. I think anyone who is being honest with themselves can admit they would, too. But he doesn’t want to kill her. He doesn’t want her to die. He just wants her to understand what she did, to understand the hurt she caused. He is apparently so against killing her that Ahriman has to change his carefully laid plans before he can convince Dameon to change sides.

And consider. During all of this, Dameon is literally possessed by Ahriman, or under his demonic influence, or however you want to phrase it. This influence likely began even before the game, but even if you ignore that, it is no small thing. Remember how quickly Mel became corrupted under this influence? Remember how quickly Galahad, who resisted the urge to drink blood for actual centuries, became corrupted? The fact that Dameon has any shred of goodness at all, after years of exposure to such darkness, even if you ONLY take into account the actual duration of the game, is evidence that Rhen is right; Dameon has a genuinely good, incredibly strong heart.

And speaking of that conversation. Please allow me to share some of my favorite screenshots in the entirety of the series.

My precious sun really went from this:

To having this very level-headed and respectful conversation, of which I have shared only two tiny snippets:

To THIS:

This. Is tangible, real difference, at a rate which makes sense, and I am so proud of him. I have seen people try to dismiss it, and his other development, by saying he is just pretending in order to make Rhen trust him. That literally. Does not make any sense. First of all, if this was part of his efforts to persuade Rhen to join Ahriman he would have done absolutely anything except agree that perhaps Talia was right. He would have tried to convince Rhen that Ahriman was right, not admitted he may have been wrong. And second, even if you ignore that incredibly obvious discrepancy, he either would have forgotten about the conversation with Rhen by the time they returned to the sun shrine and his mother asked him the question again, or he would have pretended to have forgiven her completely. Instead, he acts as though he is uncertain, because he is uncertain.

And his actions in the dream realm, confronting and fighting Agas for attacking his mother and desecrating her shrine, prove that he is sincere. Of course it takes him some time. Of course he hesitates. Forgiving someone for taking your parent from you is an enormous act. Forgiving someone you trusted for causing you that much pain is unfathomable. His progress is profound and inspiring and does not deserve to be treated like any less.

And he makes this progress while still under Ahriman’s influence! Can you even imagine! Aasgakadgjlkjklj. He tries to do what he believes is right even at the cost of those things most precious to him, his beliefs and ideals and the sacred memory of the person who raised him. ONE conversation prompts him to question everything. While Ahriman still has possession of him. I cannot even begin to comprehend being that brave. And this is just one small example.

I have seen many negative, unfair evaluations of the fairy dust scene. It is deeply tragic to me that such an important, eloquent, beautiful symbol could be so widely misunderstood. I have tried to explain it before. Allow me to indulge myself once again.

Fairy dust always reveals the truth. This effect is well established, not just in Rhen’s Quest but even in Ahriman’s Prophecy. It heals physical wounds (aka HP) and reveals the truth, and that’s all. There is never any indication that it can change hearts or magically “goodify” anyone or anything. It is not a deus ex machina. It was included specifically to exclude the possibility of that interpretation. It only reveals the truth, and if Dameon had already been aware of the truth, or if he truly honestly wanted the same things Ahriman wanted, it would have changed exactly nothing. That’s why Rhen’s choice to use it is so significant. It shows that she trusts him, as he is. She knows that he has a good heart and will do what is right when he knows what that is; she has been saying so for the whole game. In the final battle she gets the chance to prove she believes that.

And she does.

And she’s right.

When the truth is revealed to Dameon, he follows it, at the cost of his chance for justice, at the cost of living forever, safely, with the one person who has ever shown him any significant amount of affection, at the cost of everything he ever dared to want in his short, lonely, miserable life. While still under Ahriman’s demonic influence! Ahriman is still in his head! And he chooses to resist even though it means he will lose everything.

Now, this whole plot could have worked without the fairy dust. Previous cutscenes in the game have already proven that Dameon listens to Rhen. The screenshots I included are just a few examples of this; trust me, I could go on for a while. Dameon believes her and believes in her and trusts her, where he doesn’t trust himself. Amanda could have had Rhen just tell him what to do. Rhen could have had another conversation, told Dameon to switch back, and that would be that. It would be consistent and believable with what had happened in the game thus far.

Except then Dameon still wouldn’t trust himself, or like himself. He would still be lonely and self-loathing and miserable, or even if he wasn’t, there would be plenty of room for that interpretation.

But instead Rhen gives him a choice. Instead Amanda makes it clear that his redemption is not Rhen’s responsibility, or her decision, or her doing at all. All Rhen does is throw the fairy dust, and then lets Dameon realize what is right, and choose for himself what action he will take. She gives him the opportunity to trust himself, to believe in himself, for perhaps the first time in his life. She makes it clear that she believes in him. She gives him the support he’s been starving for his entire existence, and then she steps back, and let’s him choose.

This part is so significant for her arc, too. I have ranted about it elsewhere but allow me to sum up: Rhen has spent the game feeling like she doesn’t have a choice, and questioning her own judgement and her own significance. Dameon is the first to give her a choice, one which she seriously considers. She realizes she’s always had a choice. And she finally acts on her own judgement, without prompting from anyone else (in fact, without prompting even from the player, because as you might recall the choice the player is offered has always been “fight Dameon,” and yet Rhen never lifts a finger against him). She trusts her own heart and invites Dameon to trust his. She has always been a hero but this is the moment she really steps fully into the role. She saves herself. And then she gives Dameon the choice to do the same.

And they fight Ahriman, at staggering personal costs. Dameon fights while, again, still under Ahriman’s influence. He has to fight Ahriman physically and mentally, or spiritually, or all of them, most likely. He is not free until Rhen plunges the Sword of Shadows through Ahriman’s heart.

This part. I cry every time and I am crying thinking about it. Dameon has been a prisoner for likely as long as he can remember. His father supported Ahriman. He likely let that influence into the sun shrine. He let it affect Dameon. Dameon has likely never known a life without that darkness. Or if he did, he was too young to remember it. And now, finally, he is free. There is light for the first time. And because Rhen gave him a choice, he has the confidence and experience to stay free, to make himself and be proud of himself and not be just what he thought his parents wanted.

His gratitude to Rhen is profound. He has always been respectful and supportive of her, he has always listened to her and trusted her, as demonstrated during their first conversation when she meets him in Aveyond, and their conversations in the manor in Sedona, and every other tiny interaction they have. He looks up to her immensely.

And I think that is part of why he is so resolute about continuing in his role as the Druid of Light. Rhen has spent the game shouldering responsibilities that no one else could or would. Being the Guardian of the Sun is his responsibility, and he is determined to follow her example.

It is also the only thing he has ever known.

In the midst of his own uncertainty, still reeling from his own losses, resigned to a lonely eternity in his childhood prison, he still offers Rhen his support and devotion. This is before she ever makes her choice. He listens to her, sympathizes with her, and encourages her. He loves her, explicitly, out loud in canon dialogue, in literally. Every ending. No matter what she chooses. Nobody ever taught him how to love and yet he does it so scrupulously.

And in the canon ending, the True Ending as many of us like to call it, he finally, finally gets a chance to grow beyond his family’s legacy. To love someone and be there for her. To be adored by her. To be happy. To make a difference. To live a good life and die of old age and be buried beside his best friend and true love, and to face the shadowy unknowns of the afterlife together. And he accepts it, in an instant.

This is redemption not only for himself but for Talia, and Nino. All the Maurvas with their good intentions, who never got to see their happy ending because another call was too strong. Talia gets a second chance to watch her son grow, this time in a kinder world. And she gets a second chance with one of her dearest friends. Nino's legacy of absence and broken trust is finally set right. They all get a second chance to become who they intended to be, before they heard the calls they could not ignore. All because Dameon chose truth and love over every other voice, at every cost.

It was a very fairy-like thing to do. In overcoming his families' legacy, he steps into their true heritage. Aian Fairies value truth and love most of all.

There is an inscription on the statue that guards the fairies in AP. It has always resonated with me and I think it will help describe what I mean here:

Heart of gold thy secret guards

Love, felicity, light

Gaia's precious children

I am moved. I do not know a better way to say it. Dameon Maurva inspires me, and comforts me. His example has made me a better person. He has made me a happier person. I am so grateful to Amanda for being brave enough to tell the story she did, and being brave enough to stick by it. Her story changed my life and I honestly, truly do not believe I would be here without it. Her story saved my life, and I can never praise it enough.

#aveyond #dameon maurva #aveyond rhen's quest #aveyond 1 #talia maurva #rant

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cruelintentionsrp · 4 years

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hello everyone! hope you all had an amazing start to the new week. it has been a joy for the entire staff to see all of your submissions and watch as your characters unfold. as you may have been waiting for, it is time to unleash three more of our species so without further ado, here is part 3 with fairies, elves, and psychics!

FAIRIES

overview depictions of fairies differ between cultures; for some they’re depicted as a benevolent race – for others, they’re playful and maybe even dangerous tricksters. in reality, fairies straddle a grey line of morality, being both light bringers and mischievous spirits. they hail from another world entirely, a realm which was destroyed some 73 years ago. fairies have been visiting the earthly realm for eons, aiding civilizations and the evolution of human kind. over the centuries, many fairies chose to stay on earth, while others bounced between realms. it was in 1947 that all fairies were forced to make earth their permanent residence - those who did not flee perished as their world imploded on itself. since the destruction of their world, for the better half of a century, fairies have lived peacefully on earth, and have remained cloaked to both mortals and creatures. it has only been in recent decades that their existence has been revealed by those in the creature community – exposing the properties of their magic and particularly, their blood. physiology a fairy's appearance is, by most standards, the definition of perfection - in the eyes of a human, they’re so alluring it’s hard for them to turn away. for other creatures, the allure is not so strong, but it is most definitely present. as an immortal race, a fairy naturally never ages past 50. by the time a fairy is aged into adulthood, they normally obtain the power to control their aging – either by reversing it, speeding it up, or stopping it completely. this power occurs at different times for every fairy, but normally anywhere within their mid 20’s early 30’s. notable physical markers of a fairy include eyes that glow a bright blue in the presence of their own kind, and pointed ears. for the sake of blending in, many fairies have their points cut off. this practice was once considered shameful to their kind, but is now considered necessary for survival. abilities upon birth, fairies are immediately gifted with enhanced strength and agility. the rest of their powers develop as they age, until they reach full adulthood. seeing as fairies are capable of performing magic, this is often the first thing they’re taught - however they’re not able to tap into infernal magic, limiting them to the elements and celestial magic. fairies can also bestow both good and bad luck upon humans and other mortal creatures, and only the fairy in charge of the spell is able to withdraw it. one can only hope to be blessed by a fairy but should also fear their curse. they also possess the magical ability to heal injuries, illness, and many more. there is a theory that fairies are also capable of sickening their victims with plagues and other illnesses, but this has not been confirmed, nor denied. lastly, fairies are able to induce illusions through means of telepathic abilities, inspiring confusion and doubt. this is particularly useful when dealing with predators, or those wishing to harm them. weaknesses a fairy's scent is as alluring as their appearance, and to vampires, they’re dubbed the ultimate meal. for years, fairies have been a target in the blood trade, often leading them into dealing with vampires to save their own lives. their allergy to iron, while bothersome, is not as much of a hindrance as gold is. gold will enhance a fairy's magic and powers, but the metal will also induce confusion and break concentration, so it is mostly avoided. fairies do not get sick by normal humans means, but any fatal wound can kill them, or at least slow them down. in addition, pure rock salt also completely diminishes a fairy's magic, and if spread across a barrier, this ensures that they can not enter. clans in the realm of fae, fairy clans were more respected the longer they were around, and the larger that they were. however, things changed when fairies were forced to live on earth - many families and clans were separated or vanished entirely from existence, as many perished in the incident of 1947. customary titles akin to that of royalty are now a thing of the past, and blood line purity is no longer much of a concern. clans are now mostly made up of survivors, found families and groups of fairies who have vowed to protect each other. in rare instances fairies can and sometimes are completely nomadic, but it is usually due to being ousted from their own clan. though a sort of community exists among fairies, that doesn't stop feuds between clans, which have been known to turn out deadly. the common understanding all clans seem to have is the crucial nature of their survival, and it is because of this understanding that killing of a fellow fairy is seen as treason. though it will not end in the murderer's death, it will result in their exile from the fae community as a whole. fairy blood a substance not yet discovered by mankind, but has been a staple in the supernatural world a little less than a hundred years now. the chemistry of the fae blood is of the purest and most beautiful biological compounds. due to its purity, it can not be replicated or synthesized. the problem lies within the addictive, empowering quality of fae blood - while most creatures share similar side effects, such as feeling limitless, vivid hallucinations, temporary cell regeneration and keener senses, it is the vampires who are affected by the blood most of all. if a vampire consumes even the slightest amount of fairy blood, they harness the ability to day walk. though depending on the amount, it can wear off in minutes, hours, or days, but is never a permanent solution. due to the extinction scare of fae hundreds of years ago, fairy blood is now considered sacred amongst their kind, and the recreational consumption of it is frowned upon. fairy blood is worth a lot on the streets - whether it is given willingly or not.

ELVES

overview elves are sinister creatures with the power of nature and animals with little mercy on those who cross their path. for centuries, the elves have been at the forefront of battles, banding together to battle alongside or against humans, leaving a sea of bodies in their wake. weapons were only a luxury, as their skin could secrete a lethal poison, potent enough to kill humans with the slightest touch. while elves have long since wreaked havoc on the human race, they are not entirely malicious - elves have also assisted humans throughout history, their moral alignment dependent on the type of elf you meet . since their poison has been discovered as the ultimate weapon for illegal hunters and mercenaries, many elves have had to cloak themselves rather than remain mainstream with the rest of the society. however, those who choose to be in the light, risk the chance of becoming another casualty in the black market. physiology elves are masters of disguise, capable of glamour - this allows them to manipulate certain physical attributes, making themselves look slightly different, throwing off anyone who may think to recognize them. they have very few features that distinguish them from humans, if any at all. they gain their youthfulness from sunlight, and lack of it can age an elf just within a few days. they stop aging around the age of 25, but they can accelerate their appearance or decelerate at times, permanently with magic. moonlight weakens them slightly, making elves . This goes the same for cloudy days as direct solar energy is crucial to an elf’s survival and without it they can die. abilities with just a touch, an elf can poison their victim with a toxin emitted from their skin. It will render the individual extremely ill - a few days later, the victim will either recover or die, depending on the strength of their immune system, or the amount of poison they have been exposed to. an older elf can easily control the toxicity of their own poison, capable of administering doses weak enough to simply render their victim unconscious with no other consequences. this ability also renders them immune to other toxins or poisons. including their poison, elves have a connection to nature that's unlike any other species. they’re able to manipulate plants and animals, and with a great amount of energy, they are capable of restoring life, using their breath. while elves are stronger than most humans to an extent, they do not stand out particularly from the other species. weaknesses elves cannot go without sunlight for very long, as their vitality relies on it. they may notice signs early on, such as fatigue, losing their appetite and being unable to properly control their abilities. the only thing needed to truly kill an elf is to capture them, isolate them, and deprive them of sunlight - you’ll watch as they disintegrate into a mummified corpse. iron will also weaken an elf, and their own powers can be their greatest enemy if they’re not careful in controlling it.

PSYCHICS

overview many believe in things such as intuition, déjà vu, fate or destiny. Within recent centuries the spiritualist movement has been taken by storm, opening up a whole new realm of enlightenment for humans. However, those gifted in the spiritual arts have existed for far longer than modern ideas and tropes of psychics. Some take on stereotypical personas for financial gain, others hide it and use it for good, and still there are some who are ashamed. For some it is a gift and for others it is a curse. There’s no rhyme or reason to why or how psychics came to be and that’s what’s made their existence an intriguing phenomenon.

physiology physically psychics are no different than human beings. They're born and die like regular humans, leading mortal lives and having no clear way to escape death unless they’re turned by a supernatural species and lose all abilities they formerly had as a psychic. Their ability is not something that they experience from birth and this is what ultimately makes it hard for researchers to track their existence. It is only when experiencing extreme, emotionless duress that their ability awakens.

abilities every psychic has one single ability that they must harness and control if they don’t want it to completely consume them. Those gifted with dream weaving can especially be put in danger if their ability is not put in check quickly, but without resources many psychics don’t know where to get the answers they need to learn to control their powers. Furthermore, psychics have a great mental strength (this does not get rid of the possibility of mental illness, as that does exist within psychics). They’re able to ward off mental attacks or invasions from other species such as a vampires hypnosis, a fairies illusion or a sirens touch. Listed below are the powers psychics are gifted with individually.

- clairvoyants a physical connection is not needed for a clairvoyants intuition to peak. This can be a gut feeling, a sensation or an emotion that is stuck with them until the information they are receiving is acknowledged. with strong clairvoyance one can aid in finding the location of missing objects or people but cannot tell the future. they simply get ideas of what may happen rather than visions. this is ultimately one of the hardest abilities to control.

- mediums these psychics see dead people, and if they're skilled enough at it may be able to speak with them as well. Mediums can contact or summon those in the underworld or other planes, but they’re more easily available to spirits who have yet to cross over. Most people who experience mediumship think they’re hallucinating when the ability first appears, and as such It can take time for those with this gift to accept it.

- dream weavers these are endowed with the ability to create and exist in dreams, an extreme and very powerful ability similar to astral projection or lucid dreaming. along with being able to craft dreams for themselves (and others with practice), psychics with this ability are able to visit others within their dreams. however, this can be a very dangerous ability to have by nature alone - it may eventually become difficult to discern what's real from what isn't or one might lose the ability to return to consciousness at all.

weaknesses as stated above, anything that can harm or kill a human may also harm or kill a psychic. they are mortal, and as such they are just as susceptible as any other mortal to terminal illness, disease, and natural death by old age. Due to many psychics not understanding their powers they are also prone to psychotic breaks. Even then the most skilled psychic can fall victim to mental illness as their powers can be rather exhaustive.

#cruel rp #species #preview #jcink rp #jcink premium #jcink site #jcink buzz #site buzz

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 4 years

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The Pact - Part 7

Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Gothic AU

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic. Incantation used in this chapter was taken from SuperWiki.

WC: 6.8K

Series Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Characters: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased), Pamela Barnes

Series Warnings: 18+ only, mild language, violence, implied smut

“I think Dad and Crowley want to sacrifice your child to Eve.”

The bedroom chamber was so quiet, you could hear the distant sounds of children playing in the gardens rising up through the open window. Despite the gleeful sounds that played softly in the background, you felt as if the wind had been knocked free from your chest and felt your stomach drop.

Looking between the Lords Winchester, you could see that Sam and Dean were also struggling with what had been revealed. You wanted to speak, had every intention to do so, but there was no air to propel any words forth.

“I--I don’t even know how to comprehend that, Dean. Why--What would make you think that our father could even entertain an idea like that?”

“Something I overheard… Look, Sammy, I don’t know what the Hell dad and Crowley are planning. I just know what I heard.”

“Which was?” Sam asked with exasperation.

“The only reason Crowley aided us with reinforcements, was because he’d made a deal.”

“Crowley, the King of Hell, make a deal? C’mon man, that’s just a Monday morning for him. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because, part of this deal was Crowley promised Eve a new life. One created from the blood of her enemies.”

“Wh--Why? Why would she want that? She’s got all of Purgatory at her side. She has the ability to create whatever kind of life she wants!”

“Not a human life,” Dean shrugged in response. “But, I did over hear this from one of his demons, so take it with a grain of salt, wouldya?”

“Our father is a lot of things, but a monster that could sacrifice his own flesh and blood?”

“Sounds more like my father, than yours,” you replied softly. “Crowley would sacrifice anyone if it meant cementing his crown.”

“Even you?” Dean asked.

“Yes, even me.”

“Well, I guess I know who I’ll be nominating as father of the year,” Dean quipped and let his half smile fade as he made eye contact with Sam.

Sam pursed his lips tightly and sighed. “We need answers. Speculating what our father’s are up to won’t help anyone.”

“And how do you plan on getting that assurance, husband? Crowley won’t show here unless summoned. The King, if this is what is planned, won’t tell you. So, how--”

Sam grabbed your shoulder and gently turned you to face him. You did your best to stay stoic, but couldn’t help but so cracks beneath the surface. “I promise you, I will find out one way or the other. That’s the pact, right? We work together to uncover their plan--”

“Yeah, and don’t go making any babies until then,” Dean mumbled, and smiley shyly when you and Sam both looked at him with a quiet disdain.

Yet, Dean’s words fell heavy on both you and Sam. Knowing how you had spent the night before, a quick glance between you two left a cold, numbing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Sam could almost read your mind, and gave your shoulder a loving squeeze.

“We will get answers. But Dean’s right. Until we do, we will keep up appearances, but take no chances in creating a child.”

All you could do was nod slightly in response and present your husband with a demure smile.

Dean cleared his throat to break up the moment. “I hate to pull your husband away, (Y/N) but I think he and I have some things to figure out before I have to leave for the Front again.”

“Wait,” Sam released you and quickly turned towards his brother. “What do you mean, go back? I thought you were home!”

“Just for a few days little brother. With Crowley’s reinforcements arriving, and the damage the rift storm caused, I can’t leave the Winchester Guard unprotected. Besides, we are actually making some headway having those black-eyed bitches with us. I hate to say it, but they are helping. I just don’t trust they won’t try and possess a few of our men if given the chance.”

Sam nodded in reluctant agreement. “I get it. It’s just, I could use you here.”

“I know, man. I do. But…”

“The greater good,” Sam replied with a half-defeated smile. “I guess we should go then, see what we can learn together while you’re here.”

“And don’t forget, plan a celebration…” Dean’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on you, but you were unsure of what he meant.

“A celebration?”

“Yes, my father thinks we should have a large celebration, open the gates to the castle and allow the people of Lawrence to rejoice with us.”

“What’s the occasion?” you asked, not liking the sound of the King’s latest decree.

Sam signed and ran a hand through his long hair. “Our marriage and Dean’s return.”

“I see…” You hated the idea, but thought there was some way to use this to your collective advantage. “Well, one way or another we will make it work for us.”

Sam’s smile grew wide across his face, creating the cavernous dimples you had quickly come to love. “Yes, that’s exactly what we will do.”

Despite Dean’s presence, Sam pulled you into a loving embrace and held you tightly. Though your head was happily buried in Sam’s broad chest, you could feel Dean’s eyes watching you again. You understood his hesitancy in you, and your motives, but you wouldn’t let it ruin what you were building with your husband.

When you pulled back from the embrace, Sam turned back towards Dean and slapped his shoulder with one, large hand. “So, what do you say we go do a little digging.”

Dean didn’t respond, but instead watched his little brother move towards the door to leave. He didn’t budge from his spot, or take his eyes off Sam.

“Hey, you uh, you forgetting something?” Dean asked, arms crossed over his chest and watching Sam curiously.

Sam frowned in response and shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

“Well then you must be a witch yourself little brother. Because last I remember, you had yourself a shattered hip that barely let you learn to walk again. Now you’re basically sprinting out the door with no cane, no limp…”

Sam’s face fell instantly and lost color. then passed a nervous glance to you. Able to read his expression, you shrugged in return. ‘Should we tell him?’ ‘I guess… ‘

Sam sighed and snorted an anxious laugh. “Well, I’m not a witch but I am married to one. We got stuck in the rift storm, out in the Elven Woods. Found an old cottage and (Y/N) here worked her magic. Literally. I was able to walk with no pain, no limp… for days.”

“Days? That rift storm was weeks ago. You still look fine to me.”

“Last night, I applied a heavier dose of the ointment. Let it heat by the fire,” you paused and blushed at the memory of what happened after, “and this morning, he’s better than ever.”

“You let her work her hoodoo on you? Sammy, what were you thinking? She’s--”

“Listen here, Dean Winchester,” you interrupted, unable to hold your tongue any longer, “I understand your suspicions of me, I’ve lived with that stigma all my life just because of who my father is. But I grew up to have a mind of my own, and yes, I was taught witchcraft by the most powerful witch in all of Lawrence and beyond. Rowena MacLeod may have shown me the way of magic, but I learned a few things on my own, as well. Including love, compassion, and commitment to those in my favor. Your brother and I had a rocky start, yet we have come to a mutual understanding. If you can’t respect HIS choices in that, then I beg you to reconsider. Your brother is a wonderful man, and has been just as disrespected by his father, as I have been by mine. And if you truly believe, even for a moment, that I am capable of hurting him, well then, frankly, you’re a horses’ ass.”

Your impassioned speech fell heavy in the room for a few moments. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sam smirking. Dean’s expression, however, was more shocked than anything.

“Well alright then,” Dean finally said, “I suppose I could be wrong. Hell, hope I am.”

You straightened your shoulders and stood as tall as you could. “You are wrong, Lord Winchester. Just you wait, you’ll see who’s side I’m on.”

Dean nodded and looked towards Sam. “Come on Sammy, let’s go see what Dad has really got cooking up with the King of Hell.”

Shortly after they left the room, you sat down on the plush bed and sank back into the pillows. A flurry of thoughts and concerns raced through your mind, but as you tucked your arm over your head, hand beneath the pillow, you felt something hard and cool to the touch. Sitting up, you removed the pillows to see the vial that had once been around your neck to be stuck between the large, carved wooden headboard and the down mattress of Sam’s bed.

A sigh of relief released from your lips; it was so audible you were afraid someone heard you out in the corridor. You clutched the vial to your chest and began to laugh softly. Slipping the cord back around your neck, you let the small bottle fall to your chest, then tucked it beneath your dress. Feeling its weight against your skin gave you more than just relief, it gave you an idea. Unsure if the pieces would fit together, you knew you had to find out. The one person who could answer your questions, was the same woman who taught you how to concoct potions in the first place.

Rowena.

By the time the sun had hit the midday sky, you were reaching the entrance to the Elven Woods, and clutched at the old leather satchel slung over one shoulder. It was the first time you had ventured back to them since Sam had brought you there the day after the ceremony. ‘The day he tried to kill me,’ you thought. Shaking off the feeling of Sam’s blade against you, you took the first step through the archway to the woods.

As you made your way down the bumpy terrain, you came out to the majestic oak that grew at the fork in the path. It was just as radiant as you had remembered. The sunlight streamed down through its twisted maze of leaves and branches. You could feel its energy calling to you as it did to many magical folk in Lawrence. Somehow the magic you infused into the cream was able to break through the castle’s powerful warding. But the ritual you wanted to perform now, needed this extra boost of power.

Pressing your hand against the rough bark of the trunk, you closed your eyes and felt the power that lived within its core. Focusing your mind towards that force, you began to feel it seep into your veins. When you finally opened your eyes, you felt a surge of magic like you’d never experienced and watched as the glow around your hand began to fade. It left you even more convinced that you were doing the right thing. Stepping back from the tree, you bowed your head in thanks, and continued down the right path that would lead you to the small cottage you’d found refuge in before.

It didn’t take long before you could see the familiar shape of the roof peeking out through the trees. You took a last glance up at the sky, unsure if another rift storm would be lurking. Blue skies still reigned above, and you walked the last hundred steps towards the old place.

You pushed in the door, and was immediately hit by the smell of the dried herbs lining the walls. It was warm and welcoming, and you began to find a love for the vibration you felt standing within its structure. Carefully lifting off the satchel you carried on your shoulder, you laid it down on the long wooden table and unpacked its contents.

Other than the noise you made setting up an altar, there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Summoning another witch wasn’t exactly difficult, though it did require a certain amount of concentration. Grateful for the quiet, you lit the candles and began to break up the herbs and bones as the Grimoire had instructed. Holding your hands over the cauldron, you sprinkled in the last ingredient, conjured Rowena’s face in your mind and repeated the incantation.

Upon finishing, a burst of purple light and blue smoke erupted from the old ceramic bowl, engulfing you in its haze. Waving your hands to help it clear, you began to smile the moment you saw a hint of Rowena’s bright red hair emerging through a small clearing in the fog.

“This best be important, dear. I was right in the middle of convincing the Prince of Wales that I was his long lost sister. That man’s money could’ve set me up for life…”

“I’m sorry, grandm--Rowena… but it is important.”

“You know, dearie, there are messengers to deliver important news. Did your father not teach you anythin’?”

Her words conveyed annoyance, but her expression gave you pause to think that maybe she wasn’t as bothered as she wanted you to believe. Rowena’s half smile, pulled into true grin as she surveyed your altar in front of her.

“Impressive. Seems as though you had a good teacher,” she replied smugly, and slowly made her way round to the side you stood on. “So tell me, why did you need to call on grannie?”

“I heard some things. Some details of the pact my father made with the King.”

“Oh?” Rowena’s curiosity was transparent, and as much as you respected her, you knew deep down you couldn’t trust her. “Do tell.”

“I… can’t. I have no reassurance that it’s true, though I do plan on protecting myself if it turns out to be a fact. What I need from you, is to tell me more about this…” you paused and withdrew the vial from beneath your dress.

Rowena took a small step forward and examined the bottle. A devilish smile unfurled on her petite face as her eyes came up to meet yours.

“Well, now, what do we have here?” Her eyes lit up as her painted fingertips carefully toyed with the glass.

“It’s a love potion. I made it before we came here, in case I needed to protect myself from Lord Winchester.”

“Smart girl, though, poison and hex bags work better in my experience,” she shrugged and let it fall gently back to your chest. “Are you and Samuel getting along? Has he tried to hurt you?”

“Yes. we are getting along now, but he did try to kill me.”

“Yet, here you stand,” her smile grew even wider, “Clever girl… did you have to use that on him?”

“No, and don’t think I will. But…” you trailed off and turned back towards the altar. Pressing your hands against the wood of the table for support, you leaned forward and found the courage to tell her what you wanted to do with it.

“But…?”

“If what I learned is true, I may need to use it on the King.”

“The King? Oh, please tell me you don’t mean your father…”

“Rowena, please. Of course not. I mean King Winchester. I am afraid the only sure fired way I can divert is his plans--”

“Is to make him fall in love with you?”

You nodded softly, and released your grip on the table. “I don’t want to. The idea of it gives me a sick feeling. But, if it's my last option, then I will do what I must.”

“Fair enough, dear. But where do I fit into this grand scheme of yours?”

“I took the spell from one of your books. I need to know the effects, if there is a curse attached, if I can break it if needed. I only mean to distract the King, not to become his bride next.”

“I don’t know, the King is at least easy on the eyes…”

“Please, don’t even suggest it. I was completely against this whole arrangement, but I have found a kindred spirit in Samuel. I’m sure part of my father’s intention was to have me tortured by this marriage, but really, he only did me a favor.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, you know that son of mine is always lurking. Knowing he did you a service, he may just snatch it right back from you.”

“I know, and it's why I hope I can trust you with this.” You paused and took Rowena’s hand, hoping that you could appeal to the side of her that felt fondness for you, and hatred for her son. “He’s your son… my father. We should be rooting for him, but at what cost? Look at what he’s already taken from both of us. You’re at his beck and call, and he had me marry his enemies, knowing they wanted me to burn solely for having the same blood run through my veins.”

Rowena seemed to be studying you, but you ignored her scrutiny. She stood quiet, contemplating the circumstances, then finally nodded. “You’re not wrong, my dear. My son is, to say the least, a vengeful little man. He’ll take any chance he can to destroy your happiness.”

“I know, that’s why I need to be proactive. So can you… will you, keep this to yourself?”

“Can I keep your motivations quiet? Yes, of course. But I cannot and will not help you with whatever plan you are conjuring. At some point, you have to be your own witch, dear. Can’t rely on dear old Rowena for everything.”

You thought you heard her wrong, but when she took a step back and made a demur shrug with her expression, you knew you hadn’t.

“I’m your granddaughter, and you refuse to help me? We’re family!”

“Oh, sweet child, what does family really mean? Because we share blood? One thing I’ve learned in this big, rotten world is that it means absolutely nothin’. Family is what you make it. Our bloodlines are poisonous, why do you think I sold Fergus off as a child? He was a rotten little twat. I needed to escape, or be put to death.”

Shaking your head slowly in disbelief, you turned back towards the altar. You could feel anger begin to boil under the surface, and for the first time in your life, felt the same hatred towards Rowena that you carried for your father.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But, I have to look out for myself. Think maybe it’s best if I disappear for a while. Go explore the world a bit. I do wish you luck,” she paused and gave a little smirk when she looked over your altar again. “Seems as if you know what you’re doin’.”

Before you could respond, Rowena mumbled a few words, and was gone. All that she left behind was a swirling mist of violet smoke, and her words ringing in your ears.

‘...what does family really mean? Because we share blood? One thing I’ve learned in this big, rotten world is that it means absolutely nothing. Family is what you make it.’

“That’s probably the best thing you’ve ever taught me, grandmother.”

You emerged from the Elven Woods just as the sun was reaching late afternoon. Despite its brilliance, you were left with a chill that ran through your bones. A feeling of certain dread that loomed on the horizon. Stepping across the threshold into the gardens, you took a moment to breathe, and lifted your face towards the warmth of the sun. Losing track of time, you weren’t sure how long you stood that way, just clearing your mind and letting its light wash over the darkness you felt in your gut.

“Y/N? My Lady… are you alright?”

The older, gravely voice of the Winchester’s Maester brought you out of your unintended meditation. When you lowered your eyes, blinking away the bright spots behind them, you saw Bobby standing there, looking concerned and a bit puzzled.

“Bobby… yes, I’m... “ you tried to say the word fine, but it wouldn’t seem to work. “...breathing.”

“Need a moment, did ya?” Bobby replied, slowly closing the distance left between you. “You look a bit pale, feeling alright?”

“Yes… well… no. But it’s not an ailment I’m afraid. No herbs or teas to fix this ache.”

“And what kinda ache is that, may I ask?” His tone had shifted from curious to suspicious.

You knew he was a trusted part of Samuel’s family; you had experienced that first hand when he allowed you use of his apothecary. But could you trust him with conspiring against his King in the manner of which you were considering?

“Revelation,” you said, and sighed softly. “Maester Singer… I know Samuel trusts you, so I am hoping I can as well.”

Bobby considered it for a moment, and nodded. “You can, long as you aren’t looking to hurt my boy.”

“Never. I have grown quite fond of Samuel, and hurting him is something I would never consider. Not anymore.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page here. So, spill, what’s got you lookin’ like you just walked over your own grave?”

“Revelations… things I’ve heard. An unspeakable betrayal from those I thought were my family.”

“Well, considering who your dad is, can’t really say you should be surprised.”

“Not just him, Rowena, too. I asked her for help, and she threw me to the wolves.”

“Again--”

“Yes, I understand,” you interrupted and flashed him a look of annoyance.

“Alright, so if they can’t help ya, maybe I can. What is it exactly you need help with?”

“I need answers… I need to know if these things are true.”

“You can ask me. If I know, I’ll give ya an honest answer.”

Taking a moment to think before answering, you passed him a demur smile, and took a few steps around him, before turning back to face him. “I want too, Bobby. I do. But I fear asking puts you in a precarious position. I don’t want to do that to you. Samuel adores you, and frankly, I adore him. So, no, I cannot ask you.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, his brow furrowed in thought. “I may know someone who could help. A friend of mine is back in town. She’s been known to see what us mere mortals can’t.”

“Is she a Dreamwalker?” you asked, a burst of excitement creeping into your tone, despite your sense of being overwhelmed.

“No. But, she’s the best damned psychic I’ve ever known. People around here know her best as ‘The Oracle’. She travels ‘round helpin’ folks however she can. If you need answers, I am pretty sure she can get them for ya.”

“You would do that? For me?”

“You’re family, ain’t ya?”

For the first time in a while that day, you smiled a genuine smile. “Yes, I am. So, where do we find this friend of yours?”

The journey to find the Maester’s friend didn’t take nearly as long as you thought it would. You didn’t want to be gone too long, or Sam may question where you went. Telling him your plans without all the answers felt dangerous somehow, but taking too long to divulge your thoughts could be just as dangerous. Rowena wasn’t exactly trustworthy, and who knew what she was liable to do with what you’ve already told her. Her agreement to keep it to herself didn’t exactly instill a sense of confidence in you.

Bobby seemed to sense your urgency, and had the horse drawn cart rumbling down the old dirt lane. But once he hit an offbeat path, overgrown with wildflowers and ferns, he eased up on the reins.

“Almost there, Y/N. When we get there, I’ll make the introductions, but then I’ll wait outside. Been thinkin’ on what you said before, about not wanting to put me in the middle, and I do appreciate that. I may not always agree with John, but I did pledge my loyalty to his family. Sam and Dean, they’re just as much my boys as they are John’s. Hell, sometimes I think even more.”

He paused, and gave a quick glance your way. When you didn’t respond, he looked back towards the path ahead. “I’d give my life to protect both those boys. That includes protection from John, not that it would come to that. I know he’s rough around the edges, but--”

“But, he’s their father. I understand that, Bobby. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is destroy Samuel’s father. Despite their troubles, I couldn’t do that to my husband.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I can see that you are on his side, Y/N. It's why I’m helpin’ ya. I know John’s up to something, and my place in his court puts me at odds with how to handle it. So, if you need some answers, the least I can do is help you get to them.”

As Bobby guided the carriage round a bend in the path, you felt a surge of energy before the small house even came into view. When you saw it, you knew that was where he was taking you. You were so transfixed on the house, you barely noticed Bobby slowing down and calling the horse to a halt. It wasn’t until he set the reins around the hook and climbed down, did you realize that you were completely stopped.

You carefully stepped down, and waited for Bobby to join you before taking the short walk to the old, wooden door. Enamored by the energy pulsating from the house, you were both excited and nervous to step inside.

Looking to Bobby, and swallowing thickly, you raised your brows and sighed, “Here goes nothing.”

The door opened before Bobby could knock. A tall, dark haired woman, dressed in a simple black dress with a plunging neckline stood before you. Her eyes were clouded white, but her smile beamed from ear to ear.

“Bobby, I always love when you drop by,” she greeted and reached out for the Maester’s hand to pull him into a hug.

“Pamela, beautiful as always.” He hugged her briefly and stood to the side. “This is Lady Y/N. She’s--”

“The wife of Lord Samuel. Oh, I know who she is. C’mon Bobby, I may be blind, the whole psychic helps with that,” Pamela laughed, and patted his shoulder before turning to you. “Now, let me get a look at you.”

Pamela reached out for your hand, and when you gently placed yours in it, she guided you inside.

“Alright ladies, I’ll be out here guarding Old Gus if ya need me.”

“Not joining us today, Bobby?” Pamela asked, slightly disappointed.

“Not today. Today, Y/N needs some answers and whatever revelations she receives, are for her ears only.”

“I see,” she said, and turned her attention back to you. “Well then, Lady Winchester, let’s see what the spirits have to tell you.”

Pamela closed the door slowly behind you as you stepped further into her home, you drew in a deep breath of mixed herbs, candles, and sage. It was comforting and yet rejuvenated your energy, just as the old Oak did in the Elven Woods.

“Please, have a seat.” Pamela motioned towards an worn, but cozy looking wooden chair, lined with plush red velvet. As she took her place directly at the round table, you slipped into the chair directly across from her and placed your palms flat on the table.

“The energy in this place is inexplicably strong,” you mused, taking in more of the room. Candles were lit all around, some on table tops, some sitting atop tall iron candle holders. Over the table hung an iron chandelier, with more candles lazily flickering in a light breeze; yet you noticed no open windows. In the center of the small, round table, stood an iridescent purple crystal set in a sterling silver bowl filled with water. Admiring your surroundings, you settled into your seat with a sense of peace.

Pamela reached her hands towards the middle, palm up. You placed yours in hers once again, and could immediately feel the vibrations coming through her. When you looked up at her, meeting her clouded white eyes, a slight smile appeared on her face.

“You’re a very powerful witch,” she said, then wrapped her fingers a bit tighter. “Taught, yes, but also born with the gift of magic.”

“My grandmother, Rowena. She’s a well known witch also born with innate magic. I suppose it comes from her.”

“I know of Rowena MacLeod. She’s… something alright. But your magic comes from a white witch. Your mother I believe.” She grew quiet, tuning in on your frequency, then nodded in confirmation. “Yes, your mother was a white witch. She’s passed, yes?”

“Y-Yes… I never knew my mother,” you replied softly, a twisted feeling bubbling in your gut.

“Okay, close your eyes, Y/N. Focus your mind’s eye towards the crystal in the middle of the table.”

You did as told and waited for Pamela to begin. You could hear her breathing begin to slow, and nearly feel the rush of air she exhaled through her nose.

“Amate spiritus obscure, te quaerimus, te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, aput nos circita. Amate spiritus obscure, te quaerimus, te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, aput nos circita."

Pamela repeated the chant a few more times, her will stronger each time. After the final pass, you opened your eyes and felt a cool air blew through the room, flickering the candles and casting erratic shadows to dance on the walls.

“I call upon you, spirit, show yourself. I call upon you, spirit, show yourself!”

From beyond Pamela’s shoulder, a pale blue mist began to swirl slowly, eventually taking the loose shape of a woman. It floated towards Pamela, and seemed to ensconce her with its light.

“Yes, I can hear you,” Pamela replied to a silent question. “Your name… to whom am I speaking…” She paused, awaiting a response. It felt as if time stretched on, but only a mere few seconds truly had. “Emmeline, yes, I understand. I give you permission.”

Though she had no external sight, Pamela’s gaze met yours for a moment, before she closed them tightly. When they opened again, gone were the clouded white orbs, and replaced by bright hazel eyes. You gasped at the change, then stared into them as if you knew them somehow.

“Y/N,” Pamela spoke, but it was no longer her raspy tone; this voice was soft and gentle., “My daughter… you’ve grown up so beautiful.”

The whole change that unfolded before you, left you breathless. You reacted without thinking and tried to pull your hands away, but the spirit inhabiting Pamela’s body wouldn’t let go.

“Y/N, please....” the voice pleaded, “stay.”

You allowed her to hold your hands, and tried to think of what to say. But for all your questions, not only about her, but about how to handle the King, went out the window. All your mind could decipher was that despite all your magical knowledge and understanding, you were sitting and communicating with the spirit of your deceased mother.

“How,” you whispered, “how is this possible? How do I know…”

“My sweet girl, you were born during a Harvest Moon, and I loved you from the moment I saw your face. Despite how you came to be…”

Recoiling slightly, you slowly shook your head. “I--I… I don’t know what that means. I have so many questions…”

“I don’t have long. Breaking through the veil isn’t easy, so I will try to answer what I can for you, child.”

Suddenly, everything you had come there seeking in the first place went out the window. Your blank mind began to grasp at the information you needed, but all you could think was that you were sitting across from a woman you longed to know your whole life.

“I don’t know where to begin. My father would never speak of you. Grandmother, either. They would ignore me, or change the subject. Why? Why wouldn’t they tell me about you?”

The spirit didn’t reply. Instead she let go of your hand and raised Pamela’s fingers to rest upon the center of your forehead. Instantly you were hit with a surge of energy that felt like lightning racing through your body. Gasping for air, your vision went dark, and a series of images played out in your mind’s eye. Fragments of your mother’s memories poured into your knowing as the pictures flashed before you.

Seeing her in her natural state was breathtaking. Emmeline had been a uniquely beautiful woman; her hair the color of spun gold, deep dimples--much like Samuel’s--when she smiled. You could see some resemblances of yourself in her, and it helped to settle the feeling of uncertainty you had rising in your gut. Seeing your mother, in her own body, practicing witchcraft at her own altar… the room filling with black smoke and taking over her body… Crowley entering the chambers and having his goons smash her altar to bits.

Another flash… Crowley and her mother, now possessed by one of his minions, in bed together laughing maniacally at the despicable things they did and were planning to do. Another… her mother’s body, very pregnant, still possessed, but now she could hear her mother’s consciousness screaming to be let free, for the demon to leave her and her child alone.

The images were coming faster now - death and destruction following Crowley and Emmeline’s body while she was carrying you inside her. Emmeline’s body on a dungeon floor, her eyes completely black and laughing as she gave birth to you. Then finally, one last image… this one was slow and lingered behind your eyes, as you watched the black smoke clear Emmeline’s mouth. Her body crumpled to the floor, but she was still alive and breathing slowly as she looked up to see Crowley holding a tiny bundle in his arms.

“Well done,” Crowley cooed to the heap of a woman on the floor as he stared down as his newly born child. “I promise, your efforts will not go unrewarded.”

“You can’t...take.. her,” Emmeline managed to squeak out. She pulled herself up to her feet, wincing in great pain as she found her footing. “She’s MY DAUGHTER!”

“Sorry, love. She;s mine. But, I can promise you, I will make sure she’s put to good use,” Crowley looked at the baby in his arms and smiled wickedly. “Papa has big plans for you, doesn’t he?”

Emmeline watched in horror as he lifted one of his hands from cradling the baby. Crowley ticked his head to the side and snapped his fingers. Emmeline began to choke, as her mouth began to spill blood down her dirtied and bruised form.

“Don’t…. Do…. this…..”

“Too late. It’s done.” He watched as Emmeline drowned in her own blood and frowned when she ceased making any noise. Her body fell back to the ground, her once beautiful, vibrant eyes now vacant and cold. “Well, that was anticlimactic, wasn’t, Y/N? That’s okay, daddy still picked a good witch to bring you into this world. Me and you, we are going to do great things together.”

As the vision faded and your eyes readjusted to the somber lighting of Pamela’s cottage, you could feel the sting of fresh tears soaking your flesh. Pamela’s body was sitting back fully in her chair, but you could still see Emmeline’s eyes looking back at you.

“I’m sorry to have to have showed you that, but you needed to know. Your father is a monster. I tried so hard to break free from that demon’s control, but I was helpless.”

The candles began to flicker before you even felt the icy cold breeze blow through the room. Your breath became visible in the air, and it made Emmeline’s spirit panic.

“No… I need more time!” she yelled, half in her own voice, and half in Pamela’s. Pamela’s body jerked forward, then back against the chair hard knocking the spirit free from her body. The same swirling blue mist filled the room, ricocheting from the ceiling to the floor, to the corners and back again while Pamela’s chin hung to her chest, her palms still laying flat on the table.

As quickly as she appeared, Emmeline was gone, leaving you feeling a sense of emptiness and dread. To have come so close to your mother, only to have her taken away again added a vat of fuel to the fire that burned inside you. The fire you would use to burn your father, and his Kingdom, to the ground.

The temperature began to rise and the candles finally steadied from the whirlwind that just blew around them. Pamela was starting to come to, slowly raising her head until her white eyes met yours.

Still shaken from the entire experience, her blank stare was starting to unnerve you. “Pamela?”

“I’m okay,” she said softly, her signature rasp still enough for you to know it was really her and not spirit. “That was… intense.” She reached across for your hand again, and though you honored her request, part of you was afraid to touch her again. “Your mother, you spoke with her? She showed you what you came here for?”

“Yes, she showed me…”

Pamela squeezed your hand and closed her eyes. “But not everything--”

Before she could continue, she was interrupted by a knock at the door, and the old wooden beast being slowly pushed open, allowing the day’s fading light to fill the room.

“Hate to interrupt the girl talk,” Bobby spoke up cautiously as she stepped over the threshold, “but are you ladies almost done? Day’s wasting here, and if Y/N doesn’t get back to the castle grounds before dark, I’m going to have some explaining to do to the King himself.”

You nodded in solemn agreement. You had come here for answers, though the ones you received weren’t exactly what you had been seeking. Unsure of how to process what you had learned, you turned to Pamela and smiled wanly.

“Thank you, Pamela,” you started, and felt the rest of the words catch in your throat. “I--” expelling a deep sigh, you rose from the table and tried again. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve given me.”

“But you didn’t get everything you came here for,” she replied, then stood up from her own chair. Pamela walked around the table with great ease for a blind woman, finding you immediately and putting both of her hands on your shoulders.

Pamela pulled you into a warm embrace and gave you a caring squeeze. Before she completely let go, she allowed her lips to linger near your ear for a brief moment and whispered, “The baby you’re carrying is going to be blessed with great power. It will be up to you to keep him balanced and not let the scales tip in Crowley’s favor.”

Jerking away from her, your eyes snapped up to meet hers as a small smile unfurled on her lips. She gently laid one of her long fingers against her lips. “Shhhh… that baby needs to be your secret, or danger will find him long before he’ll need to pledge his allegiance.”

“Ladies? Everything okay?” Bobby asked from where he still stood in the doorway.

“Everything’s fine Bobby,” Pamela replied, looking over your shoulder to flash Bobby her signature smile and wink. “She’ll be right along.” When her false eyes looked back on you again, her smile faded. “Keep him safe, and this child will one day sit on the King’s throne.”

“Y/N, I hate to bust this party up, but we really have to go.”

Still in a complete state of disbelief, you turned just enough to see the Maester impatiently waiting for you and nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

He threw up his arms and shrugged, before turning and heading back outside.

“Y/N,” Pamela said, and turned your chin so you were again focused on her. “I know you have more questions, I know you were seeking truths about the potion, and a plan to use it. Whether you chose to follow through or not, it will not change the outcome of what’s meant to be.”

“And what is that? What IS meant to be?” you pleaded. “And how could I already be pregnant? Samuel and I, we just… it was one--”

“What is meant to be is already in motion. It was put that way the moment you and Samuel came together. Twin flames, though born of different fires, can still come together to create a force of nature.” She paused, and gently rested her hand on your belly. “And this boy, he will be a force of nature.”

Series Tags: @theplaid-wearingmoose / @zombiewerewolfqueen / @silkiechicken / @collette04 / @katiecurls75 / @death-unbecomes-you / @colie87 / @roxytheimmortal / @klanceiscannon14 / @voltage-my2dlove / @flamencodiva / @xhannahbananax03 / @babykalika2001 / @traceyaudette / @winchester-wifey @pilaxia

Sam Winchester: @buckyscrystalqueen / @unabashedsoul97

SPN (all): @wings-of-a-raven / @negans-wife / @kazosa / @deans-baby-momma / @hobby27 / @breereadsthings / @maddiepants / @sorenmarie87 / @screechingartisancashbailiff / @winchesterxfamilybusiness / @unlikelygalaxyiver / @linki-locks11 / @stoneyggirl / @clarinette07 / @lefthologramdeer / @destielhoneybee / @faughnphotography / @katehuntington / @81mysteriouslyme / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @deathofmissjackson / @lauravic / @akshi8278 / @rebelminxy / @idreamofplaid / @fictionalabyss / @blackcherrywhiskey / @his-paradox / @closetspngirl / @sorenmarie87

#Sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #Sam Winchester AU #SPN AU #Sam Winchester x Crowley's Daughter!Reader #The Pact #ramble on #Sam winchester fan fics #sam winchester #crowley #gothic AU

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crystalelemental · 4 years

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So I finished Ephraim’s route in Sacred Stones for the first time since the game came out.

When I was young, I remember saying the same thing: I don’t like Ephraim’s route. It just didn’t seem as strong as Eirika’s. And I could never articulate why, to a degree where most of my friends would insist it was because I just played Eirika’s first so the complete deviation felt weird, even though Ephraim’s route was just as solid. But I’m an adult now, and I like to think better at articulating opinions, so maybe now I’ll finally be able to express why I don’t like Ephraim’s route.

Part of it is Ephraim himself. I don’t like Ephraim, I find him incredibly dull, and think he embodies every insult people want to throw at Micaiah. Unbeatable in battle, unnaturally good at everything contrary to what’s told to us, the plot literally revolves entirely around him. Ephraim’s just bland to me. I think the best way to express this is to use a quote from someone who really likes him, courtesy of the only Fire Emblem fandom personality that I legitimately cannot stand.

Their take on Ephraim’s route is that: "Ephraim says he doesn’t pick fights he can’t win, but then he does pick a fight with Lyon. Then the journey after that is his character arc, of accepting how to become a king. He goes back to his kingdom a loser, and learns to accept that loss to become a better person.”

Problem: not a single word of that is true. For one thing, Ephraim never lost a fight, because that would be a flaw. Ephraim won every fight he was in ever, because “I don’t pick fights I can’t win.” Ephraim, you are three guys, exiting a castle, surrounded by a moat, further surrounded by mountains. Your only backup are cavalry units, and your enemies are mostly flying units, including a general so powerful that he injured Seth, your country’s best knight. But oh no, he gets to escape. No explanation, because you cannot possibly write a believable explanation for how that happened. He just gets away because Ephraim’s just so cool. So yeah, there’s no “learning to accept the loss,” because there is no loss. To anyone, at any time. I have no idea what they’re even talking about with “his loss to Lyon.” My best guess is they just hadn’t played in a while and forgot.

If anything, Ephraim’s crucial flaw should be presented as being a fucking slacker. They poke fun at it when they’re being taught as kids, but when war broke out, Ephraim left Renais to rush into battle, got his ass stranded, and wasn’t present to help Renais at all. This is slightly acknowledged when they finally return to Renais, but only in the sense of “he’s back now and he’s better so it’ll never happen again!” But (1) it’s mentioned exactly once, and (2) it’s not brought up nearly as often as Lyon being weak-willed, or Eirika “relying” on Ephraim protecting her, as flaws go. Which is its own issue, considering we never actually see Eirika relying on Ephraim at all. She didn’t actually need his help either time he showed up. Nice to have, but far from saving an unwinnable situation. We’re just told she always needs his help, because if she didn’t then Ephraim can’t be the cool twin who’s so good at war.

And that’s all that Ephraim is, and all he ever becomes. There’s no “learning to become a king.” He accepts that he’ll take the crown, but there’s really no reason to it aside from his penis. He’s the prince, so he gets to be king. Nevermind that Eirika’s route was more about establishing diplomatic ties, and that she’s by far the better leader. Ephraim gets to lead because reasons. All Ephraim does is charge into battles. We get exactly two establishing scenes of Ephraim’s leadership qualities, both of which are around war and not actual leadership in a governing sense. And get this! They’re both with Seth, who, again, is their kingdom’s best knight. And guess how both scenes go. You’ll never guess. Ephraim’s either just as keen as Seth, or is presented as the one in the right. Seth comes along as Ephraim’s advisor, but literally never has to advise, because Ephraim’s just so capable and good at this. And remember, this is the hero who never read a fucking book. Who copied all of Lyon’s homework, and couldn’t be asked to learn shit in his life. I’m fine with him being a strong soldier. Hell, I’m fine with him even having a keen sense for combat due to practical experience. But being able to keep up with or exceed Seth, who should be one of the best minds for fighting we have, is kind of annoying. At the very least, allow Seth to have some role as an advisor, rather than just...nothing.

At no point does Ephraim really learn or develop in any compelling way. He starts out great and ends great. Any flaws the narrative presents are solely as a backdrop, they’re never reflected in the story. Him being bad at studying and books never bites him in any way. Hell, it never even comes up, save for flashbacks and a singular comment the Demon King makes about Ephraim being “poorly educated,” which was more a taunt about him not immediately guessing Demon King. Ephraim suffers from exactly no faults ever.

This leads into the other big issue. Lyon. I do not like Ephraim-route Lyon. At all. There’s a lot that goes into this, but the short version is I actually think Eirika-route Lyon is more engaging, complex, and shows greater force of will.

Eirika-route Lyon presents as fully consumed by the Demon King. His soul is actively being devoured, and the beast within is winning. However, at certain points, Lyon takes back control. Briefly, but he’s trying. He fights back as much as he can, but it’s impossible to resist the Demon King’s control. His motivations are the same in both routes, and largely comes down to a desire to save his country and his people. He’s used the arcane arts to manipulate the energy radiating from the Sacred Stone that has the Demon King trapped within. He uses it to heal people, and see into the future to attempt preventing disaster. In Eirika’s route, the Demon King expresses more of the unresolved feelings for Eirika, and his inadequacy because Ephraim’s just so good. So like...they had a compelling tragedy going. I could absolutely believe a 17-year-old has inadequacy issues around the girl he likes, and that this would be an easy mark for an ancient eldritch evil. But the fact that it has to double back to Ephraim pisses me off. But we’re talking about Ephraim-route Lyon, so that’s enough paraphrasing her route.

Ephraim-route Lyon seems to present just as himself. On the surface, this seems like Lyon is showing greater willpower and resolve, right? He’s in control! He’s going to use the Demon King’s power to save Grado from impending disaster! That’s way more impressive, right?

Well, not really. Considering that Lyon acts in control, but is ultimately just going about this like a nitwit. Complaint #1: Lyon doesn’t act as in-character in this route. Ephraim even acknowledges it. Lyon’s peaceful, he’d never instigate a war over this. Like, this is an Edelgard move, not a Lyon move. But here we are, being told that Lyon, of his own will, started this war. Why?

Complaint #2: Because Vigarde sucks, for a start. In the last flashback, Lyon is talking to his dad, and expresses uncertainty about his ability to rule. Again, great in for the Demon King. But Lyon’s actually on this one. A major disaster was foreseen, and they need outside aid for their people to survive. Vigarde says Renais would never aid them, because they need to put their people first. There’s a bit of interesting consideration here, in that Renais, a smaller nation, probably can’t take in all the refugees that Grado would have. But like...Renais is friendly with Frelia, who could be persuaded to help. Rausten is all about charity like this, as the religious epicenter of the continent. What the fuck are you on about, Vigarde? Pinning literally all of this on Lyon to find a solution isn’t just cruel, it’s stupid and wrong. Get it together, asshole. How did you manage to not lead Grado into the ground? Was it hard to teach yourself to breathe through your ass, or is that natural talent?

Complaint #3: Lyon’s motivations are all over the place. This starts because he revives Vigarde, and this breaks the Sacred Stone, creating the Dark Stone that houses the Demon King. Okay cool, this is when the possession starts. But remember, they’re presenting this like Lyon’s in control. After this point, Lyon still takes leadership. He still makes the commands, through his father. And he instigates a war. Why? Well, they never really say. One answer is envy of Ephraim, and a desire to beat him. The other is self-sacrifice. He talks with Knoll about some documents that allegedly allow him to circumvent the foreseen history, and it involves human sacrifice and great magical power. He plans to use the Demon King’s power and his own sacrifice to accomplish this. But that...doesn’t explain the war. You could just kill yourself on your own time, dude. Like, hidden motivations include saving your people, but all of this was the worst possible method. If you anticipated latching on to other nations after your death ends the royal bloodline, then your people are now reviled for being instigators in a completely meaningless war. They’re less likely to get help than ever. If it was to conquer territory for them to move to before the catastrophe, then why self-sacrifice at all? The war now has a point, but nothing else does, because you’d have accomplished your goal through the war.

So basically, if Lyon’s in control, there are two possible motives for the war: showing off to beat Ephraim, or a pre-cursor to your self-sacrifice for some reason. Either way, it’s super shitty. Like really, what’s your motivation for enacting continental warfare? Complete disillusionment regarding mankind’s right to rule, and seeking to end strife through complete subjugation by another species that (allegedly) doesn’t feel the emotions that lead men to folly? The belief that war is inevitable and that living beings cannot help but kill one another for the most banal of reasons, and thus the most just course is to re-awaken their creator to put them all to an eternal rest? Recognition that the structure of society is so bad that people are constantly suffering and dying, and decided to stand up and tear the structures out by the roots through bloody conquest if necessary, in hopes of a better tomorrow? Or because your childhood friend’s dick was too huge and made you feel inadequate/you had to kill yourself and I guess this was the best you could come up with?

The more likely reason given how fucking incomprehensible his motivations are otherwise, is that the Demon King was always in full control. That Lyon was never actually in command of things, but thought he was, even as the Demon King ate away at him from within. This makes more sense, because it’s just...Demon King killing things for funsies. But it also means Lyon has 0 actual agency, and it’s even more just the demon king. In Eirika’s route, Lyon actually fights back and wrestles control, if just for brief moments at a time. But in Ephraim’s, the only implication that makes sense is that Lyon never had anything. He was never in control, and never even put up a fight. He was just easily duped into believing that these were his conscious decisions. Which makes Lyon a lot less compelling overall.

I just...I don’t like Sacred Stones. I figure that’s clear, but it’s good to be open about it. I feel like the game just tries so hard to make Ephraim the coolest thing ever, and every male character (except Seth) who interacts with Eirika is just obsessed with this notion of needing to be better than him before she’ll love them back. It’s why I can’t stand Innes. All their supports are is him being bullheaded and insisting that no, he has to protect her, because that’s how this is supposed to go, and he will be better than Ephraim so she’ll accept him. Fuck you, Innes. Though man, Lyon’s not much better. I can at least sympathize with Lyon’s feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty about Eirika reciprocating, but the fact that it all boils back down to Ephraim again...god, neither of them even consider Eirika in this. It’s all about Ephraim and your own dick-focused insecurities. At no point do either of you consider Eirika’s feelings in the matter, everything’s about you you you, and needing to be better than Ephraim who’s just too cool I guess. May as well rename this Toxic Masculinity: The Game at this rate.

tldr, Ephraim’s route sucks. Eirika’s route is at least a decent tragedy, but sidelines its main character too hard to really feel like her route. Lyon would be better off without Ephraim’s route. The end.

#fire emblem sacred stones #boy I am not a fan of this game

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hjh-ceilo-monster · 4 years

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BTS Dragon Domain AU

Summary : You were the last dragon slayer.In your world,they taught you that dragons was your enemy.Pure hate piled up little by little since you were a child. You believed that it was them who ruined your beloved village.You decided to find a way to their domain.Everything was beyond your expectation when you arrived.The land was peaceful and blissful.You couldn’t believe your eyes.The little ones lead you toward the 7 dragons who protected their sacred land. Perhaps this was the beginning of your mind to see another point of view.

ps.inspiration by fairy tale + how to train your dragon / first time bullet fic

Kim Namjoon : Magma dragonoid (leader of volcanic nation)

The volcanic nation is the underground nation that has forbidden from everyone to enter.All dragonoid(dragon people) believed the land was curse by their ancestors.

Well that idea changed since Namjoon appeared on this earth.He grew up in this land,his home,like the others.Learning that the other 6 part of this domain didn’t like him nor his people,he wanted a change.

Intelligence and deligence with an effort made him successfully changed everyone.He even became the advisor in the council.

Meeting him at first was wrecking your nerves.His look was quite scary.

And indeed hot like a magma of course.Sexy body and brain was such a good combination.

He was the one who understood your aspect since the beginning of your departure.He helped you alot to adjust with this place.Making him become your brother.

His power was shaping magma.Basically it was he could shape anything out of his magma.This guy also learnt to control lava and fire as well. Another favourite subject after you came here was learning human language from you.In a few months,he became a genius with it.

His dragon form was huge.If you didn’t know Jin was the next king,you would assume he was.Sadly he told you that the volcanic nation couldn’t be the royals.No one would accepted it yet,but at least his presence in the council was enough to change ideas about his people.Jin was the best.

Kim Seokjin : Pearl dragoniod (The crown prince from pearl valley)

This prince charming guy who you found out later that he was a prince,an actual one.He was born in the royal family which was in the Pearl valley. Borning rich and having royal blood in his vein wasn’t a thing that made his life happy.

Not until when he met these 6 crackheads.They were nice to him and never really care whether he was a prince or not.

When they got to know him with his identity,no one treated him differently from what they used to.

See the word charming up there in the first bullet? Thet was his specialty or so you thought.His look was so attractive and with his aura that was a bang to your heart.

This prince knew how to make joke,dad jokes.

His power was to make everything turn into pearls.After knowing his incredible power,you wouldn’t be surprise why this guy was born rich.His family wouldn’t run out of prosperity.

His dragon form was elegance and majestic.One day he was in his form and you thought it was a female.You admired her(his) feature,pat here and there and all of sudden Jin appeared.He teased you about your behavior for the rest of that day.

Min Yoongi : Snow dragonoid (leader of glacier clift)

This guy whose lip was as pink as the sakura.Skin glowing white as if it was the sugar.If you thought snow white was the most beautiful,then you needed to meet this guy first before you decided.

What you notice was his cold stare.He was the one who warry about your presence.He didn’t easily trust people.

‘That boy has trust issue.’ Jimin made a comment and he hissed.

Anyway he was nice.His heart always had soft spots for everyone in the house.He cared about everyone as if this is his family.He hanged out with you a lot after got to know each other well.

He didn’t take shit from people.Daring to do something to cross his line meant you decided you want to die.

You guys must know about jackfrost.This guy was a version of jackfrost, but have a dragon form too.What made you surprise was the fact that his hair color changed depending on the temperature.Hazel or brown when it was hot,light blue when it was cold and pure white when he use his power or during the snow phase.

From above,he possessed the power of snow.Glacier Clift,his home land, was full of snow.However,not everyone could control or created the snow. And there this guy who could both control and creat snow.He then became one of the council member in his land.

His dragon form was surprising.You didn’t know how to describe since it looked ordinary yet unordinary.His white scale that reflect the sunlike glasses.The inner part was blue and acted like a prism when it was touched by the light.

Jung Hoseok : Earth dragonoid (leader of quagmire tunnel)

Welcome to the Quagmire tunnel,the tunnel and nature ad life.The streams were running all over the land.You could see many water lines. The sound from all those birds that chirping,streams running and the waterfall from the top of the tunnel made relaxing vibe.

Tunnel was under the ground yet you met the sun himself,Hoseok/Jhope. He was lively as ever and was the second who welcome you in this house.(After dealing with panic attack for seeing human the first time)

He was calm and lovely.His presence itself could lift the mood up.

Well not when he was fuming with anger.

He was full of delight.Not knowing his power,you assume he was the sun dragon.He laughed and told you if he could,then he would.He was around the same age as Namjoon.Maybe because of that,he became your second brother.

Talking about his power,his power was controling any form of disaster that relate to earth.(Landslide,earthquake etc.)With this calm and joyful look who knew he possessed such a dangerous power.

Another thing which he learnt from his brother,Jimin,was to understand the animals.

His dragon form was like a rock.His skin didn’t has scales like the others.It was made from rock instead.He said he hated his appearance.You needed to encourage him for months for him to believe you.

Park Jimin : Star dragonoid (leader of stardust woodland)

What a lovely boy?His presence was very unique to you.The guy was a grown up men yet still had a baby face.When he was confortable with your presence,first thing you asked was to pinch is cheeks.

It was like a mochi.

Star dragonoid was a rare kind.The race itself was heritage from the ancestors who first created this land.He told you that his mother,sister of Hoseok’s mother,hit a jackpot.She met his father and became his partner. Turning out to find out his secret that he was inherting the blood from one the rare ancestors.

His land was next to Jhope.At the end of tunnel,there would be a passage way that lead you to his woodland.The land named ‘stardust’ because of how it would illuminate at night time.

It was beatiful like a dreamland.

He was a gentle soul.Beloved by everyone in the land,his land or not.The children that sent you to them would always visit the house at night. Demaning Jimin to tell them some stories.He was a good story teller.

His power was to understand animals.Having the mind that could easily understand others no matter they were dragonoids or not made him ten time softer.

His dragon form was confusing.The thing was his form had a similar color to Yoongi.However,you knew Jimin was the only one who could illuminate without light.You learnt to identify this duo from night time.

Kim Taehyung : Mist dragon (leader of mist isle)

Another god like feature in this household.The dragonoid from the mist isle,the floating islands.

Mist was a mysterious thing that couldn’t easily be touch or understand so did he.This god appearance,compose posture and his eyes were something you wouldn’t understand.They were to mysterious yet you found those were your new task.

A fool,one word for describing this guy.

Story teller along side with Jimin and also a great actor.He would make children laugh until they couldn’t.He hanged around children a lot as well as you.

Childish.... (a/n : well I didn’t force you to stream inner child but umm stream it with whole 7 album)

His power was an illusion from his own mist he created.He was the fearful one among the islands since there was no one had the power like him except his father.Creating illusion was something from wizard land,but this guy could do like it was nothing.

It wasn’t that surprise since he told the secret.His mother was a witch who could shape shifted herself.Half blood prince indeed.

His form was also mysterious (a/n : I used this word too much.) The black mated scale that acted like a chamouflage with his surrounding especially in his land.He could just fly into the cloud and disappeared like magic trick.You found it amazing and always sticked with him when you guys decided to play hide and seek with the kids.

Jeon Jungkook : Sand dragonoid (warrior of the core)

The of this domain was where the power source lived.He was the protectore of it.Borning in the part which already turned into a myth was difficult for him.

Last blood from Arid region.

His land was destroyed by the dragon slayers,your kind.Once the desert was another prosperous area,but because of the war it was destroyed. Since then he hated dragon slayers.

Until he met a human couple that help him.He remembered them clearly as if it was yesterday that everything happened.He sweared to revenge for his family and his land.

When he met you,he looked with pure hate in his eyes.The eyes of his reflect your first feeling before you arrived this land.

He was harsh toward you,a bully you could tell.However,everything change when one day you both foud out about the war between dragons and dragon slayers from Jin and Yoongi.

He was a dragoniod saved by human couple and that couple was your family.You were their child.Your parents were killed by the high table after they found out about Jungkook story.

He sweared to protect you for all cost to return their kindness and apologize for eveything.He then became your younger brother.You on the other hand turned yourself into a dragon warrior along side with Jungkook who already was.The best warrior duo was born since that day.

His power was sandstorm which is similar to hoseok.Destruction after using his power was rank the third which bellow Namjoon and Jhope.

His form was cute.This boy was far different from the others.His form was like the asian dragon mythology as far as you remember.No wings but still could fly.He was so colorful and large eventhough he had no wings.

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digitaldreams0801 · 4 years

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Alitia Character Info Dump

I feel like doing another one of these, so here’s more Alitia character stuff since I love talking about this cast of characters in particular:

- Tanith hates sitting still. She can’t do it since she feels unproductive when not doing anything. She gets really jittery when forced to stay in one place for a long time. To remedy this, Jin decided to buy her fidget toys, and he keeps them all over his office. Zylphia has a few in her office that managed to travel between Angelwood and Alitia. Tanith keeps them in specific places around her room and plays with them often. Her favorite is a spinning disk that she keeps perpetually moving with her air magic.

- Luce’s secondary weapon of choice is the bow. Lewith taught her how to fire a bow over break between her first and second semesters at Alitia, and Luce is getting better quickly. She has the natural talent for using weapons that Altina does without the manifestation and can pick up nearly any weapon and learn how to use it after a few weeks of proper training. She can also use daggers and gauntlets, though spears and axes are taking some extra time for her to master.

- Fromir is terrified of Minerva because of his rocky relationship with his father. His father was the previous head of Sierra, and he passed down the position of headmaster to his son. Fromir’s father was incredibly intense on him, constantly pressuring him to be perfect, and it took a physical and mental toll on Fromir over time. Minerva’s occasional anger issues remind Fromir of him, and he hates it when she grows snappy as a result.

- Minerva’s anger problems are the result of her wings being torn out. When her magical core was disturbed by the forceful removal of her wings, she became somewhat unstable, and her magic is somewhat volatile because of it. Minerva’s hair catching fire is the primary outward symptom of her wing loss, though she is far more snippy than she ever was before due to the forceful removal of her wings screwing with her magical flow.

- Minerva and Leviathan have a sister named Brynn. Minerva is the oldest (older than Brynn by two years and Leviathan by four) with Brynn falling in the center of her and Leviathan. Brynn is a passive aggressive and manipulative person, wrapping everything behind a seemingly perfect smile. Brynn and Minerva have never gotten along due to Brynn’s petty nature clashing with Minerva’s stubborn attitude. Leviathan tends to avoid Brynn, not having enough time for her toxicity.

- Leviathan used to attend Sierra. He entered the freshman year just after Minerva graduated, though he had to clash with Brynn a few times due to their being in school at the same time. Minerva entered a year early at Sacred Heart (she was sixteen) while Brynn entered early two years later at Alitia. Leviathan was the only one to enroll on the regular timeframe, and he saw Brynn often because of it.

- Brynn is a magical elitist, for lack of a better term. She strongly believes that wings belong on women while they shouldn’t be with men, a traditional belief on their planet of Pyre. Minerva was cut off from the family after the removal of her wings after years of rocky arguments with their parents. Leviathan asserted his position after being accepted into Sacred Heart and left of his own free will after creating his own wings with his shapeshifting magic and leaving.

- Dawn hates feeling better than everyone else. After years of being treated as superior to most people, she grew to resent those who placed her on a pedestal, believing that she should be treated as all others are. She also hates blatant manipulation after years of people wanting to get close to her for the political power she possesses.

- Octavia gained her radical beliefs regarding leath equality from a revolutionary leader named Briyana Frazier. After sneaking out of the palace, Octavia met Briyana by chance, and Briyana told her about the horrors leaths endure each day. Octavia immediately decided that she wanted to help and began planning for revolution when she was given the throne while still maintaining a facade of perfection that her grandfather would approve of.

- Many things about Magia society closely resemble Earth because of where Starlight and Moonlight came from. They were born on Earth before creating Magia as a place for all magical or misfit people. The calendar year is the same because of this, and the sun remains called the sun. The same applies to the moon.

- The birthdays of the Second Camaraderie members are as follows: Luce (June 19), Iris (December 13), Sophia (June 21), Sylvia (May 7), S.M. (October 21), Helena and Carys (November 11), and Tanith (December 16). All of these birthdates are known to be accurate save for Tanith. Instead, her birthday is the day she was adopted by Zylphia and Jin since the true date is unknown. In honesty, the day is in September, though nobody is aware of such.

- The Sealed Ones in the Starlight Camaraderie are all connected to given zodiac signs, a tradition for Sealed Ones. Dawn is Tauros, Cryon is Capricorn, Jin is Leo, Minerva is Scorpio, Fromir is Aquarius, Altina is Gemini, Zylphia is Virgo, and Caius is Sagittarius. This leaves Cancer, Pisces, Libra, and Aries unoccupied. They are the first generation to not have a Keeper of Moonlight due to Ragnor’s treachery in starting the War of Starlight causing him to be deemed as impure and unfit by the gods.

- Nebula has an uncle figure by the name of Omen. He and Karver have been friends for years since the two of them both attended Sierra the same year as the Starlight Camaraderie. While Omen isn’t related to Karver or Nebula, he is fiercely loyal to them both. They never associated with any members of the group since Fromir was a few years younger than them, instead keeping to themselves.

- While he was attending Sierra, Leviathan was nothing short of a terror. He constantly played pranks on Fromir’s father using his magic, gaining him something of a reputation as a troublemaker. However, there was never enough evidence to prove that Leviathan was behind it, so he never got in trouble for it. He graduated at the top of his class, though Fromir’s father was not happy about it in the slightest.

- Leviathan would later learn about Fromir’s father treating Fromir poorly after the two of them got together. Leviathan expresses often that he does not regret his pranks in the slightest, claiming that Fromir’s father fully deserved everything Leviathan gave him. Fromir laughs such off to hide his silent agreement.

- Leviathan grows somewhat close with Nebula after he and Fromir begin dating. Both of them love to prank Fromir, so they became fast friends when they realized the prank potential of shapeshifting and illusions. Fromir has not had a moment of peace since they began to tag team with their already impressive prank skills.

- Originally, Minerva had scholarships to both Alitia and Sacred Heart. She had already earned her Isolis as a dark mage by that point, but she still considered Alitia until she learned Brynn had plans of going there. As soon as she learned that, she jumped aboard the Sacred Heart train. This was for the best given that Brynn would grow up to harass her endlessly when they crossed paths at the Millennium Six.

- Dawn is very good at persuading others. She likes to pull out huge puppy eyes when she wants to get others to agree with her, and nobody is immune to it. The first time she tried those ideas on Cryon, he immediately caved despite his stubborn nature because he couldn’t stand to see her looking so sad, even if it was an act.

- In order to properly communicate with each other through language barriers, all mages and leaths are given a long-lasting translation spell at birth that allows them to understand each other in a common language. This prevents misunderstandings by giving everyone a common ground to start a relationship from.

- Fromir was unanimously decided as the precious child of the Starlight Camaraderie. He’s two years younger than the rest of the group, but they all would do anything for him. Even Minerva, who still intimidates him some, would light someone on fire if she thought it would keep him safe and happy.

- Cryon grew up on Amity with his single mother. She was a leath who escaped the grasp of Iago shortly after his birth, and she did everything for him. Cryon loved his mother dearly leading up to her death. She died a year before he set out to attend Ridgeview, and he vowed to press on for her sake. This was when he took up mercenary work, getting him noticed by a teacher of Ridgeview who offered him a scholarship.

- Michaela also attended classes the same year as Minerva, Cryon, and the rest of the Starlight Camaraderie. She tended to run with a different crowd and didn’t openly associate with them often, preferring to keep to herself due to her introverted nature.

I think that’s all I have in me for now. That was a lot of facts, after all. Anyways, stan Alitia, thank you very much.

#alitia #ocs #original characters

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