RE: MORITURI TE SALUTANT!! [S!4] ROUND 3- OPHIDIAN JADE!
08-10-2017, 06:39 AM
Fire.
She remembered fire. Her last memories of the play were a blurry haze, burdened by the heavy weight of the demon's geas and that vile compound forced upon her, but she remembered its last moments. The prince failing to kill Imago, his blade wavering at the last second. The crowd surging forward, onto the stage, demanding deliverance from the false Angels that had betrayed them. The heavy rope tightening around her wrists, around her waist, binding her to a stake. Firewood, tinder, kindling piled around her. The theater becoming an inferno, a crypt of smoke and blackened ash.
Lavi shuddered. She'd seen the others as captives in that-- place, the one with the demons who were just as awful and cruel as Imago was. What happened couldn't have been real. Lavi ran a hand over her wrists, feeling the deep bruises left by rope restraints. There was only a moment before she coughed, then keeled over onto her hands, frantically clearing her lungs of choking smoke. After what felt like a minute, her breath felt like it had returned to normal-- her lungs still burned, but she wasn't at the brink of death.
Somewhere, Imago still lived. She didn't know what to think, or what was real, but she knew that much. None of the others would believe her-- she would have to be the one to kill him.
After a moment to clear her head, Lavi finally pulled herself up. She immediately realized she was undressed-- the costume she had been forced into was gone.
A rush of anger washed over her. She spat on the ground. That flea-bitten mongrel prince would pay for what he did.
Lavi took another deep breath. Blind anger wouldn't help her now. She needed to focus.
She took stock of her surroundings-- an empty changing room, judging by the discarded clothing, sealed tinctures, and rows of mirrors. Unfamiliar music drifted in from another room, muffled by the walls, and she couldn't help but shudder at the prospect of being in another theater. There was a set of clothes folded over a chair, which she hazarded a guess and assumed were intended for her, given that they were more well-worn and practical than any of the costumes scattered around. As she finished changing, she took a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
When did I grow antlers?
She ran a hand through her hair, pressing against the base of the branches growing from her head. The two short branches tapered to a point, with a few smaller spurs and stalks splitting off to resemble something reminiscent of a deer's antlers. There was no mistaking her as anything other than sylvan-touched now-- the rest of her was human, or human enough outside the places where bark replaced skin and flesh gave way to wood. She looked down at her feet-- now human again, somehow, without the gnarled roots she had once had. Even with that small blessing, there was no hiding this. She should have been bothered, worried-- but Lavi felt more alive now than ever before.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Are you finished?"
---
"What is it you do, then," Acacia flatly asked.
Acacia was an imposing figure, tall and weatherworn. Deep scars ran across her face, and her sleeve was pinned up, obscuring a lost arm. She impatiently shifted and pressed her weight on a gnarled wooden staff. Layers of loosely-fitted garments made from faded black wool adorned her. Lavi shifted uneasily, trying to avoid looking at her-- she couldn't help but feel intimidated. She was hoping for some fresh air, not more conversation she felt ill-suited for.
"Well? Come on then, girl," she continued, when Lavi didn't respond. "You don't find yourself in the House of the Deer if you're useless."
Lavi huffed indignantly. "Useless?" she asked. Her outstretched hand waved over the floor as ethereal sparks flickered at her fingertips, ignoring her bruised wrists and pulling at air until it coalesced into a small, animated vortex of wind and smoke. Darker hollows formed along the surface, resembling crude eyes and a mouth, as the elemental quickly took shape.
"So, what were you asking about?" Lavi asked, allowing herself just a hint of pride.
Acacia sighed tetchily. "You have-- promise," she said, grabbing Lavi by the chin and pushing her face upwards and side to side, examining her.
"Ow, hey, stop that--"
"You have the makings of a druid," Acacia continued, ignoring her protests. Her eyes focused on the antlers protruding from Lavi's head, staring intently at them. "Your understanding of our magic is powerful, perhaps, but crude. You won't make it if this is all you can do."
"Wait. What do you mean, our magic?" Lavi asked.
The druid stared at her. "You-- you really don't know, do you." When Lavi gave a confused shrug, Acacia rubbed her temples. "Our magic draws from the world around us. Every spirit, every beast, the land and sea and sky-- it is through our devotion that they answer us and lend us their strength."
"So--"
"As for you," Acacia interrupted, "you lack our devotion, but they still answer you because you are connected to them. That much is obvious. How doesn't concern me. But you can do much more than what you've shown me."
Lavi paused, taking a deep breath. Her gift was more than she had ever thought it would be. She trembled slightly, her mind weighing the responsibility she was now burdened with, thinking about how it would fall upon her to use this power properly. But she needed it. If she wanted to kill Imago, she would have to call upon strength beyond what she already had. If she wanted to no longer be the plaything of every prince and demon, she would need to become more than just a frightened peasant girl.
Just as she opened her mouth to respond, she saw Sam-- clothed in something new, and with features that seemed unfamiliar and that she couldn't quite place, but unmistakably the girl she met in the theater.
---
"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you," Sam finally said, after an awkward, lingering silence. Acacia had excused herself, leaving the two of them alone, waiting for the other to be the first to speak.
Lavi looked at her, curiously. She fidgeted with her hair, curling a loose strand in her finger. There was so much to talk about, she wasn't sure where to begin. "It's fine," she forced herself to reply, setting those thoughts aside. "I only just got here."
Sam shook her head. "I meant in the theater. Maybe if-- maybe if I found you earlier, you wouldn't have had to meet Chad, or go through any of what he put you through."
Lavi frowned at the mention of the prince. She had a name for him now, at least, although she doubted she'd ever deign to use it. "I was careless and he caught me off-guard. I don't think it'll happen again."
"It's just--" Sam looked away for a moment, away from the druid's soft, grey eyes. She reached into her pocket, taking out the pin she'd found on her robe. Her hand extended and grasped Lavi's hand tenderly, easing the the ruby badge into her grip. "--I just wish I had been there for you."
Lavi reluctantly let go, taking the pin and examining it carefully, before finally clasping it onto her new garments.
"Listen, Lavi--"
The druid perked up again, looking intently at her.
"I-- I love you."
Lavi smiled and laughed lightly. "I love you too," she said, unsure why Sam looked so hesitant over admitting this.
"No, you don't understand," Sam replied, shaking her head again. She paused, uncertain how to articulate herself. "I don't mean like that. I mean, I love you."
She remembered fire. Her last memories of the play were a blurry haze, burdened by the heavy weight of the demon's geas and that vile compound forced upon her, but she remembered its last moments. The prince failing to kill Imago, his blade wavering at the last second. The crowd surging forward, onto the stage, demanding deliverance from the false Angels that had betrayed them. The heavy rope tightening around her wrists, around her waist, binding her to a stake. Firewood, tinder, kindling piled around her. The theater becoming an inferno, a crypt of smoke and blackened ash.
Lavi shuddered. She'd seen the others as captives in that-- place, the one with the demons who were just as awful and cruel as Imago was. What happened couldn't have been real. Lavi ran a hand over her wrists, feeling the deep bruises left by rope restraints. There was only a moment before she coughed, then keeled over onto her hands, frantically clearing her lungs of choking smoke. After what felt like a minute, her breath felt like it had returned to normal-- her lungs still burned, but she wasn't at the brink of death.
Somewhere, Imago still lived. She didn't know what to think, or what was real, but she knew that much. None of the others would believe her-- she would have to be the one to kill him.
After a moment to clear her head, Lavi finally pulled herself up. She immediately realized she was undressed-- the costume she had been forced into was gone.
A rush of anger washed over her. She spat on the ground. That flea-bitten mongrel prince would pay for what he did.
Lavi took another deep breath. Blind anger wouldn't help her now. She needed to focus.
She took stock of her surroundings-- an empty changing room, judging by the discarded clothing, sealed tinctures, and rows of mirrors. Unfamiliar music drifted in from another room, muffled by the walls, and she couldn't help but shudder at the prospect of being in another theater. There was a set of clothes folded over a chair, which she hazarded a guess and assumed were intended for her, given that they were more well-worn and practical than any of the costumes scattered around. As she finished changing, she took a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
When did I grow antlers?
She ran a hand through her hair, pressing against the base of the branches growing from her head. The two short branches tapered to a point, with a few smaller spurs and stalks splitting off to resemble something reminiscent of a deer's antlers. There was no mistaking her as anything other than sylvan-touched now-- the rest of her was human, or human enough outside the places where bark replaced skin and flesh gave way to wood. She looked down at her feet-- now human again, somehow, without the gnarled roots she had once had. Even with that small blessing, there was no hiding this. She should have been bothered, worried-- but Lavi felt more alive now than ever before.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Are you finished?"
---
"What is it you do, then," Acacia flatly asked.
Acacia was an imposing figure, tall and weatherworn. Deep scars ran across her face, and her sleeve was pinned up, obscuring a lost arm. She impatiently shifted and pressed her weight on a gnarled wooden staff. Layers of loosely-fitted garments made from faded black wool adorned her. Lavi shifted uneasily, trying to avoid looking at her-- she couldn't help but feel intimidated. She was hoping for some fresh air, not more conversation she felt ill-suited for.
"Well? Come on then, girl," she continued, when Lavi didn't respond. "You don't find yourself in the House of the Deer if you're useless."
Lavi huffed indignantly. "Useless?" she asked. Her outstretched hand waved over the floor as ethereal sparks flickered at her fingertips, ignoring her bruised wrists and pulling at air until it coalesced into a small, animated vortex of wind and smoke. Darker hollows formed along the surface, resembling crude eyes and a mouth, as the elemental quickly took shape.
"So, what were you asking about?" Lavi asked, allowing herself just a hint of pride.
Acacia sighed tetchily. "You have-- promise," she said, grabbing Lavi by the chin and pushing her face upwards and side to side, examining her.
"Ow, hey, stop that--"
"You have the makings of a druid," Acacia continued, ignoring her protests. Her eyes focused on the antlers protruding from Lavi's head, staring intently at them. "Your understanding of our magic is powerful, perhaps, but crude. You won't make it if this is all you can do."
"Wait. What do you mean, our magic?" Lavi asked.
The druid stared at her. "You-- you really don't know, do you." When Lavi gave a confused shrug, Acacia rubbed her temples. "Our magic draws from the world around us. Every spirit, every beast, the land and sea and sky-- it is through our devotion that they answer us and lend us their strength."
"So--"
"As for you," Acacia interrupted, "you lack our devotion, but they still answer you because you are connected to them. That much is obvious. How doesn't concern me. But you can do much more than what you've shown me."
Lavi paused, taking a deep breath. Her gift was more than she had ever thought it would be. She trembled slightly, her mind weighing the responsibility she was now burdened with, thinking about how it would fall upon her to use this power properly. But she needed it. If she wanted to kill Imago, she would have to call upon strength beyond what she already had. If she wanted to no longer be the plaything of every prince and demon, she would need to become more than just a frightened peasant girl.
Just as she opened her mouth to respond, she saw Sam-- clothed in something new, and with features that seemed unfamiliar and that she couldn't quite place, but unmistakably the girl she met in the theater.
---
"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you," Sam finally said, after an awkward, lingering silence. Acacia had excused herself, leaving the two of them alone, waiting for the other to be the first to speak.
Lavi looked at her, curiously. She fidgeted with her hair, curling a loose strand in her finger. There was so much to talk about, she wasn't sure where to begin. "It's fine," she forced herself to reply, setting those thoughts aside. "I only just got here."
Sam shook her head. "I meant in the theater. Maybe if-- maybe if I found you earlier, you wouldn't have had to meet Chad, or go through any of what he put you through."
Lavi frowned at the mention of the prince. She had a name for him now, at least, although she doubted she'd ever deign to use it. "I was careless and he caught me off-guard. I don't think it'll happen again."
"It's just--" Sam looked away for a moment, away from the druid's soft, grey eyes. She reached into her pocket, taking out the pin she'd found on her robe. Her hand extended and grasped Lavi's hand tenderly, easing the the ruby badge into her grip. "--I just wish I had been there for you."
Lavi reluctantly let go, taking the pin and examining it carefully, before finally clasping it onto her new garments.
"Listen, Lavi--"
The druid perked up again, looking intently at her.
"I-- I love you."
Lavi smiled and laughed lightly. "I love you too," she said, unsure why Sam looked so hesitant over admitting this.
"No, you don't understand," Sam replied, shaking her head again. She paused, uncertain how to articulate herself. "I don't mean like that. I mean, I love you."