A Blade and Her Witch

This Pack Runs On Love (Girl)

Content Warnings:

 

Mistress Elevar is injured, but... not critically. She's... sealing herself magically, turning... her body into a vessel? Deliberate actions. The weaving is her own. She... oh. that's so very odd. She's... transferred the Sikkina parasite into herself, and... designated it her Floret. She lacks the capacity to maintain that type of Division for long, even with a nascent soul.

This one quietly Cants ::Patience:: to its other half, it's better half, and stands with the Mistress in its arms, dropping even further into Giyar 2 so only the Mistress can be detected as this one begins the slow walk back, hopefully there will still be enough time for whatever she is trying to do.

Mistress opens her mouth to say something, but stops with such a jolting as fear cracks through that empty expression. Points back to the center of the tree she was sitting within.

This one stops, moving us to the center of the tree. Considers. With one foot, this one marks the ground, scrawling in shorthand, 'need to stay?’

She nods. Then reaches up to tip-tap my lips. Nods again. Touches her own lips. Shakes her head.

This one lowers her down to the ground. Scrawls more with one of the frames arms. 'This one can speak quietly but Mistress cannot?’

She nods.

"Mistress, will you need to stay for long?" This one whispers.

She considers that, shakes her head, points to the scars on her shoulder. As this one looks closer notices that they seem to... to be crawling. Moving across her flesh like a needle across cloth.

"This one will wait with you until we can leave." This one hesitates, then with more firmness, "You are coming back with us.”

Mistress nods, and curls closer into our embrace. We wait. It takes 6245 heartbeats before the marks stop their spread along her shoulder. She doesn't fall into sleep, nor speaks during that time, simply... waits. After the stitching along her ceases, she nods and shuffles from our grip to moves to place her hand with the light on what looks to be the center of this tree's floor.

Odd strips of lights swirl out and into the floor below as our Mistress grinds her teeth and fights back would we can tell would be a hiss. The knittings on her shoulder and arm glow and pulse, revealing such an odd design in the middle that our eyes flinch to see, surrounded by outer weavings this one recognizes to be of our Mistress' craft.

She trembles and, as the light from the floor around us begins to fade, that marking at the center of her scars seems to steam and burn. Then it too settles. Leaving Mistress Elevar gasping and shivering. Still making as little sounds as possible when she slumps back into this one's arms. With an effort of will she waves a hand and forges a little mote of Blue Physis light to flicker and dance before bobbing in the direction of the exit. A guide I assume. I pick her up once more and follow the light mote.

But... then the mote turns toward a pathway that leads further down.

[Verbess... Be prepared. I am uncertain where this wants to take us.]

Sister thrums in agreement.

Soon the tunnels grow thin, and the blue mote pauses to halt our advance. Mistress Elevar reaches out to brush fingers on the wall, and with a pulse of her Ousia, a torso-sized twisting orb spins to form from the seamless surface of the wall at this one's feet. An odd thing that reminds this one of the cradles Mistress Elevar spun from the Spires above to store the bones. Albeit more pearlescent stone than dark chitin.

She takes a deep breath, before motioning to be put down. With worry and concern, this one obeys.

Elevar reaches down, a bit unsteady, and hooks a hand about one of the orb's sharp edges. Not even seeming to mind the cut and small dribble of blood as she proceeds on her own two feet. This one picks up the bloody thing and follows. 

What is she doing? This… is new.

Eventually we reach a wall of solid roots and vines, which the Mistress parts with a brush of bloody hand and will. 

The border of the Estate.

She continues leading us forwards until she reaches a distant tunnel that feels different. Empty yet full of an unmistakable presence. The Mistress drops gently to her knees and motions this one to set the cradle-thing beside her.

Mistress Elevar drips her blood on the dirt and the impact rings in this one's chest, each drop building upon the previous as this one is driven to the ground beside the Mistress as well, who looks confused, unable to feel the building pressure. 

The... Breath. It can feel what occurs.

Sister Verbess growls in wordless fury, straining against the pressure.

She gasps in shock as with the next drop of blood, her Physis is drained, swiftly emptied from her as she reels and wobbles. 

The Dirt Whispers and this one can hear it, the Mistress can hear it too, so quiet that even our gears and her heartbeat threatened to drown out the sound.

Allagaí... Child of Sin... Daughter... Allagaí...

The dirt shifts, enveloping the blood as another pulse of pressure crushes this one to the ground and something.... a cloud darker than the tunnels we are in, yet illuminating the same, cascading rainbows of colour on the walls around, flows from the dirt and into Elevar's mouth and nose as well as the cradle-thing.

[Is it over?] I ask Verbess as the pressure lessens and the Frame suddenly seizes up, rendering this one completely immobile.

The presence seems to look at this one, looking through us, judging. 

Lost... Daughter.... Be welcome...

It relents. Releasing us, as the presence fades once more.

Mistress moves over to us, taking up our face and meeting our gaze. Face still blank but eyes filled with worry as she shivers. A question stirring from them, easily read.

Are you okay?

Verbess relented her growling as the presence spoke that final time. Seeming almost... content. 

Like recognizes like, and the acknowledgment of one much greater.

Intoning softly to Schatzi, [This deep hunter will not make us its feast today, sister.]

This one nods to Mistress Elevar. "Yes. Can we go now? I... don't want to worry you but there has been... developments above.” 

She purses her lips, but nods as she rises. And with the cradle in one hand and ours in the other, she leads us. First, back to the weird jungle room, where she lays down the cradle in the center of the empty tree stump we found her within. And then back through the slowly normalizing tunnels back above. Arriving at what is initially a dead end before she waves a hand and it cracks away to reveal... The basement of sister Xafra's Spire.

In one corner of the space, some of the mats, blankets, and pillows have been shaped and stacked to form a soft enclosed area. Primrose and Nettle are situated just outside of it, softly murmuring to the odd serpentine Doll who is wrapped around Calix inside of the Doll nest while he continues writing in his notebook. The serpent Doll peeks out past him to look between this one and the Mistress, its eyes narrowing than widening. "It.. is the... C- can this one...?"

Elevar ignores everything, stepping over to Nettle who is still holding Xafra's spear form close, and extends an expectant hand. Nettle passes her Sister Xafra as the odd Doll uncoils from Calix and slithers back below the moment the pathway is clear. Mistress Elevar pulls this Frame up and out into the main lawn of the Spire.

Adaline still lays there staring upwards, causing the Mistress' expression to falter into worry and fear and confliction, but she speeds up towards her Spire and her lower bedchambers.

Mistress Elevar lays Xafra down along the centre of the bed, tip-taps her spearform and looks pointedly at me before touching her own chest.

[Sister Xafra, You are needed. Shift to your Warlord form.] This one murmurs to her, starting to understand what is planned.

Sister rambles more absurdities but manages to shift into Warlord, her body limp on the bed.

Mistress Elevar shuffles and crawls up and around Xafra's many limbs to kneel over her head, takes a deep breath, then exhales the Breath. As it floats there, she leans down to press it into Xafra's mouth with another exhale.  When half of it flows back out of Xafra's nose as she spasms, the Mistress motion motions us over and this one surrenders control to Verbess for it to properly experience what it missed previously.

Filled with sudden hunger and wordless desire, my sister leans forward to consume more than breathe in the gift. Shivering in its own thrumming delight as we are filled to bursting now. Verbess settles us back to waiting as it nuzzles close and surrenders control back to me. [Thank you, dear sisters, for sharing this feast with this one.]

Mistress Elevar nods, then turns eyes back to watch Xafra with an intense regard.

Xafra twitches and shakes before settling and opening her eyes. "Love. You've returned to me.”

Elevar leans down and touches forehead to Xafra's. Takes a deep and trembling breath. Then opens left hand to spark the Physis of Little Archive, the dancing blue motes collecting to show...

Information mostly. Hard to parse. But even passive examination would reveal this to be a conveyance of a distant thing. The safe place within the Estate's deeper workings and threads where Sikkina rests. And... and the gift Elevar left at the spot she will first have the opportunity to awaken and within if she forges a physical Frame for herself. The cradle filled with the Breath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer

Sun Spoken Turn

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