JavaScript must be enabled to play.
Browser lacks capabilities required to play.
Upgrade or switch to another browser.
Loading…
<table class="center"> <tr> <th><a data-passage="Lore"><img src="images/lore.png" alt="Lore"/></a></th> </tr> <tr> <th><a href="https://www.worldanvil.com/w/jiwenia-13leagues/map/ebde41e6-6294-40ce-8bfe-f96ea0442785" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"><img src="images/map.png" alt="Map"></a></th> </tr> <tr> <th><a data-passage="Glossary"><img src="images/glossary.png" alt="Glossary"/></a></th> </tr> </table> @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@
Simply click the links below to find out more information about them. <h2>Culture</h2> <<link "Phoenix Regions & Markings">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ The phoenixes control three regions in their area. The northern or volcanic region, the southern or forested region, and the western or coastal region. Again, technically as there is a fourth, the central, this area exists purely due to political reasons. The central region consists of all three cultures that the other three are known for. ''Adero'' Northern/Volcanic. This region encompasses the northern half of the Scorched Woods and is predominantly made up of the chain of volcanoes and lava pools that rest in the area. The area is known mainly for its bright colors, extravagant food, and diverse wildlife and fauna. Facial markings for the Adero mirror the markings found on the phoenixes nesting here. Lines are commonly straight down the face and dots along the cheeks, eyes, chin, nose, and forehead. ''Reno'' Western/Coastal. This area sits to the west, and though not all of it is coastal, most of it mirrors the culture that hails from the site. The colors here are darker than the others, consisting mainly of dark gold and yellow with blues, green, and purples thrown in. They rely heavily on seafood, and unlike the other two regions, their livelihood is tied with the phoenixes. It's not strange to see a phoenix and a Phaizarn working together to bring in the day's fish. The markings are heavily inspired by the fish and sea life that populates the area. These markings are focused primarily near the eyes, with deep eyeliner and eyeshadow accentuating the feature. Designs from simple lines, streaks, and dots can be found and more elaborate markings. ''Jaro'' Southern/Forested. The southern area is mainly made up of forests and holds bioluminescent flora. The colors of those in the south are usually neon in a way. The warm colors are placed against the much more saturated and loud color schemes native to the area. The phoenixes in this area have also adapted and evolved, their feathers being able to glow in the dark to scare off predators. The markings of this area are quite simple, a dash across the face that differ in thickness but predominantly all look the same in this regard. The difference mainly is the color as, unlike the other areas, those here have bioluminescent materials to work with. <img src="images/comp_markings.png" alt="Phoenix Markings Visual"/> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <h2>Flora & Fauna</h2> <<link "Phearn">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Phearns are aerial creatures that can be found throughout most of the Forbidden Land besides the arctic and prairie biomes. It can also be found in the jungles of Pryce. They are mainly trained as messenger birds but are also highly sought after pets. They eat mostly large nuts and fruits but are also known to go after insects. They can be found mainly in trees and burrows, any place that gives protection from both the sun and predators. With this said, they are mainly nocturnal creatures, and their tail feathers will produce a light glow during this time. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <h2>Locations</h2> <<link "Duragon's Sanctuary">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Though never truly proven, it is believed to be the birthplace of all dragonkin. The sanctuary is a giant and deep crater with a single cave entrance that leads into an area known as Mother's Core. Here, the Six Divines live as well as a number of dragons. It is believed that if one travels deeper, they will find the sleeping remains of the Mother. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Garami Mountains">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Conquering the north-eastern part of the Forbidden Land the Garami Mountains is a towering mountain range known for its severe conditions and constant blizzards. Few creatures call the mountain range their home and those that do are known for their hardiness. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Kiamet">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Kiamet is governed by Darkness and after his trial, has been the area he has been sentenced to. Created by Darkness and the birthplace for Cimmerians , Kiamet turned into Darkness's prison after the Council found him guilty for creating the species. Many have never looked upon Darkness's dwelling, those who have always describe it as a dark cave with no light in sight. They are stuck, forever wandering and trying to find their way out. Unlike the other two High God realms, Kiamet is believed to be the realm of suffering. Many will condemn others to this realm, wording it as if it is an eternal damned place. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Treces">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Despite being the largest of all the continents (contested only by Nidinia), Treces or The Forbidden Land is the only continent that is still deemed as 'uncivilized.' Mostly meaning that no true authoritative figure has laid claim to the land and brought it into the fold that the rest of the continents have. And, for good reason. It's a well known fact that those who seek true adventure and knowledge travel to the land, only to never be heard of again. The land is alarmingly dangerous and out of all the continents, has the heaviest magic influence. If the flora and fauna don't kill you, harsh conditions and the local occupants just might or mysterious circumstances will do the trick. One thing is known, this area is not for the weak-hearted. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <h2>People</h2> <<link "High God Sun">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Sun is one of the three High Gods, and brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Opposite of his twin sister, Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged and captivated with the forming stories of mortal lives, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them. Sun is extremely fond of puzzles and due to a highly strategic mind, he finds himself mostly looming around those engaged in war and politics. The machinations of courts is a favorite past time of his and it is not odd for him to place bets on sides with other deities. He is unforgiving, in the most part. Believing that everything happens for a reason and it is a mortal's duty to pronounce themselves the victor in conflict. Though this is true, Sun has a soft spot for those with blazing spirits and souls who have been dampened. He loves an underdog, especially one whose future is not fully written out. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "En">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ En is the spirit of life and death, the complete circle, the entirety of life. Upon death, one must get through En to find out what comes next. En is known to be unbiased and just. Their reputation for being such a great judge also means that those about to stand trial or pass judgment will pray to En for guidance and a just hand. The phrase, "En, guide my hand" or "En, bless these eyes" are common phrases. En is also responsible for reincarnation, depending on the culture, En will judge an individual for the ability to be reincarnated or to continue moving on, their decision is final. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <h2>Miscellaneous</h2> <<link "Celesow">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Celesow is the last month in the year and is also the coldest and one of the longest. It is the month of trials. When Celesow strikes, it is much like Monsuna, striking without care. It's cold weather rushes in and chills the bones of all. Celesow challenges those living, testing their preparedness and all that they learned that year. Many see Celesow as the season that will make or break an individual. //Forbidden Lands roughly sees near 145 days of Celesow.// <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Second Clan War">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ The Second Clan War was nearly a one year war fought between the multiple Phaizarn houses. Far bloodier and destructive than the first, the war began due to rising tensions between House Chunae and House Dragon to the north, as well as House Great Stag and House Basilisk in the central area of the Forbidden Land. ''Conflict Results'': Basilisk wipes out House Great Stag; Chunae kills Draco royal family and takes ancestral land <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Smoten">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ The month of potential. Smoten is the hottest and roughly estimated as the longest month of the year. With the growth of Monsuna now showing, Smoten is full of early harvests and adventure. Many cultures have their outdoor festivals during this time and romance is always at its fullest. //Forbidden Lands roughly sees near 169 days of Smoten.// <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<link "Tracers">> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ A group of historians consisting of both true dragons and their Phaizarn dragon counterparts. Initially created by dragons seeking to preserve their history, when Phaizarn dragons proposed to help, they were immediately welcomed into the fold as translators and organizers. After proving themselves not only capable but also efficient, their role and duties included recording and filing. They are typically a group that sticks to themselves. <</popover>>\ <</link>> @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@
<h1>Jawsīc</h1> The Language of the Divine, is the mother of all languages save for Mîmwîck. * biichy kii (biːc ; ki/ n.): true or pure mother. Used for when speaking of one’s birth mother. * chyoow (coːw/ n.): parent * děgb (dɛɡb/ n.): nephew * d'uun (ɗuːn/ n.): aunt * igéati (ehj-ah-tee/ n.): a military term for generals amongst Phaizarn. Though this phrase has also been heard amongst Sairs. * kě'ěb (kɛːɛb/ n.): the gender term used to describe those without a gender. Directly translates into 'gender none'. * kěamo (kɛumo/ n.): a term of endearment used amongst phoenixes and dragons. Means 'the flame of my heart.' Has also been known to mean 'the blaze of my soul.' * kii (kiː/ n.): mother. Should also be noted that in some circumstances this is not used for birth mother. * nawaw (nɔː/ n.) brother * wot (wot/ n.): father <<if $route_ruben>>\ <h1>Mîmwîck</h1> Also known as the the First, is a dragon language spoken and understood by all of kin. * bral byi fru: roughly translates to 'it is an honor.' * e (e/e/ v.): come, go, reach. * fras (fras/ adj.): damn. * Fru ow kiw yîtskay: translates to "you are my heart's flame." A popular phrase amongst crimson dragons when declaring their love. * Î, Draconis khago. Î byâg yîtskay. Tswub: a direct translation yields 'You, Draconis blood. You tolerate flame. Why?' * I hîiw hîk: translates to 'I seek audience.' * Kekhsaf! Fru kekhsaf ât: translates to 'crazy/insane. You crazy/insane bird.' * ow likh fkhog is kâ'yeka byi khli lyad: roughly translates to 'my dragon form is lost to me now.' * sâl khli tsof mey likh: translates to 'show me the real dragon.' * soî (ˈsoɨ/ n.): sweetheart * tswâdyu fru: translates to 'fuck you.' * yibrokhod (jiˈbroxod/ n.): translates to mother. The full word is rarely used due to the multiple stresses needed, especially when 'kii' is much easier to say. Many will shorten it to 'yib'. * yub (jub/ n.): father <<elseif $route_ozara>>\ * daviani (da-vee-ahni/ n.): made from a metallic silver flower and mixed with dye. This is used to mark the skin and yields a silver metallic appearing tattoo. <<elseif $route_nour>>\ <<elseif $route_zarik>>\ * kisoel (kai-sol): a magical hearing device powered by an individual's energy that allows them to hear. Commonly used by Phaizarn reptiles who are typically born deaf. * shuba d’amïï: translates into 'blade magic.' Needing body and spirit activations, this spell allows the caster to create a magic blade for use. It can only be used by those with a ludá in illusion. <<elseif $route_makaio>>\ <<else>>\ <</if>>\ @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@
<span class="sidenote">Tip: Click the category images for a more in-depth look at routes and the choices you've made thus far.</span> <a data-passage="Stat View"><img src="images/personal.png"></a> ''Name'': $name $surname ''Coping Attitude'': <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>Enraged<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Mournful<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>Detached<<else>>Neutral<</if>> <<if $trait is "unknown">><<else>>''Trait'': $trait<</if>> ''Aggression'': $force ''Stealth'': $stealth ''Persuasion'': $charisma ''Astrology'': $stars ''Acrobatics'': $acrobat ''Ecology'': $nature ''Music'': $music ''Artistry'': $art ''Timid'' <meter @value="$timid" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Brave'' ''Leery'' <meter @value="$leery" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Naive'' ''Hopeful'' <meter @value="$positive" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Bleak'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Personal Stats'>>''Timid'': <<print $timid>> ''Leery'': <<print $leery>> ''Hopeful'': <<print $positive>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<if $route_ruben>>\ <<link [img[images/rubenstat.png]] >>\ <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <img src="images/route_ruben.png" alt="Ruben" align ="left" width ="30%" HSPACE="50" VSPACE="50"/><h1>Ruben Draco</h1> House Dragon | He/Him | Vengeance Ruben was born to Ranorik and Etsa Draco and was the second born to a group of four. Being the second born son not only meant that he wouldn't inherit the Chieftain title but that he would also avoid any kind of spotlight, due to not being a woman. Therefore, Ruben saw his early childhood laxed and mostly spent with him doing whatever he wished to. He found himself immensely curious in Draconis and combat, and found no care for politics and hunting. Most of Ruben's childhood was lost due to war and hatred. At six years old, he lost his family to House Chunae and entered into intense training to not only be House Dragon's Chieftain, but also a well-shaped warrior. He was taken in by his only surviving family member, his ([[d'uun|Glossary]]), Fuldreis Cayver. A young and carefree Ruben soon saw himself undergoing significant changes as he now carried the burden of leadership. <</popover>>\ <</link>>\ ''Disposition'': <<if $lockR is "na">><<if $ruben <50>>Fiery<<elseif $ruben >70>>Mindful<<else>>Neutral<</if>><<else>><<if $lockR is "fiery">>Fiery<<else>>Mindful<</if>><</if>> ''Combative'' <meter @value="$vigor" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Compliant'' ''Derisive'' <meter @value="$smart" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Careful'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Ruben Stats'>>''Ruben'': <<print $ruben>> ''Combative'': <<print $vigor>> ''Derisive'': <<print $smart>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<elseif $route_ozara>>\ <<link [img[images/ozarastat.png]] >>\ <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <img src="images/route_ozara.png" alt="Ozara" align ="left" width ="30%" HSPACE="50" VSPACE="50"/><h1>Ozara Kallippos</h1> House Pegasus | She/Her | Justice EDIT TEXT <</popover>>\ <</link>>\ ''Disposition'': <<if $ozara <50>>Tolerant<<elseif $ozara >70>>Rebellious<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Heart'' <meter @value="$heart" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Mind'' ''Tower'' <meter @value="$tower" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Free'' ''Guilt'' <meter @value="$guilt" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Innocence'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Ozara Stats'>>''Ozara'': <<print $ozara>> ''Heart'': <<print $heart>> ''Tower/Sheltered'': <<print $tower>> ''Guilt'': <<print $guilt>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<elseif $route_nour>>\ <<link [img[images/nourstat.png]] >>\ <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <img src="images/route_nour.png" alt="Nour" align ="left" width ="30%" HSPACE="50" VSPACE="50"/><h1>Nouritis "Nour" Gryps</h1> House Griffin | They/Them | Remembrance Like many royal children at the time, Nour's birth mother ([[biichy kii|Glossary]]) is not known as she was only there to successfully continue the Gryps royal bloodline. Nour's mother ([[kii|Glossary]]) was Jayene of House Swan and their father, Lavrentis Gryps. Nour was never really close to either of their parents, a common trait amongst griffins and family members. As a young kid, Nour was sprightly and their actions portrayed just how weightless they were. Forever on the move and basically impossible to stop at any time. Few kids saw themselves keeping up with Nour's energy, and the only child who ever came close was Phoenix. Phoenix was also the only one who ever saw an embarrassed and calm Nour. Their friendship meant a lot to Nour and so it only made sense that when Phoenix disappeared, their life and personality turned down a new path. <</popover>>\ <</link>>\ ''Disposition'': <<if $nour <50>>Protective<<elseif $nour >70>>Reserved<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Ardor'' <meter @value="$spirit" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Apathy'' ''Past'' <meter @value="$memory" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Present'' ''Trust'' <meter @value="$trust" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Doubt'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Nour Stats'>>''Nour'': <<print $nour>> ''Ardor'': <<print $spirit>> ''Past'': <<print $memory>> ''Trust'': <<print $trust>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<elseif $route_zarik>>\ <<link [img[images/zarikstat.png]] >>\ <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <img src="images/route_zarik.png" alt="Zarik" align ="left" width ="30%" HSPACE="50" VSPACE="50"/><h1>Zarik Al-Asherath</h1> House Basilisk | He/Him | Defiance EDIT TEXT <</popover>>\ <</link>>\ ''Disposition'': <<if $zarik <50>>Passionate<<elseif $zarik >70>>Dignified<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''React'' <meter @value="$action" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Respond'' ''Cold'' <meter @value="$cold" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Warm'' ''Hellion'' <meter @value="$trouble" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Legate'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Zarik Stats'>>''Zarik'': <<print $zarik>> ''React'': <<print $action>> ''Cold'': <<print $cold>> ''Hellion'': <<print $trouble>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<elseif $route_makaio>>\ <<link [img[images/makaiostat.png]] >>\ <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <img src="images/route_makaio.png" alt="Makaio" align ="left" width ="30%" HSPACE="50" VSPACE="50"/><h1>Makaio Sisou</h1> House Phoenix | She/Her | Independence EDIT TEXT <</popover>>\ <</link>>\ ''Disposition'': <<if $makaio <50>>-<<elseif $makaio >70>>-<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Loner'' <meter @value="$loner" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Social'' ''Flippant'' <meter @value="$mouthy" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Hushed'' ''Lost'' <meter @value="$lost" min="0" max="100"></meter> ''Free'' <sub><<link 'see number version'>><<dialog 'Makaio Stats'>>''Makaio'': <<print $makaio>> ''Loner'': <<print $loner>> ''Flippant'': <<print $mouthy>> ''Lost'': <<print $lost>> <</dialog>><</link>></sub> <<else>>\ <</if>>\
<img class="img-invert" src="images/bumstudios.png" width="500" height="111" align ="center"> @@.center; © 2022 Bum Studios LLC. All rights reserved. All images and audio are licensed under Bum Studios LLC. Copyright infringement is punishable by law. Audio belongs to respected artists and courtesy of Storyblocks Audio, Envato, and Incompetech. Widgets by HiEv & Chapel Character and Ruben CG Art by [[Meira|https://meirasthing.tumblr.com/]] Royalty-Free Music Contributions: Village Ambiance by Alexander Nakarada | https://www.serpentsoundstudios.com Music promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.com Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ If you have any questions or issues please contact me @ Email: 13leaguestories@gmail.com Tumblr: 13leaguestories.tumblr.com Helpful Links: * Visit [[RAINN|https://www.rainn.org/]] to learn more about sexual abuse, find out how you can get involved, and speak to professionals to find the help you deserve. * If you or someone you know are contemplating suicide then know that help is out there. Please visit [[National Suicide Prevention Lifeline|https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/]] for more information and to speak to professionals. * Visit [[SAMHSA|https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline]] to learn more about their information service for individuals and family members facing mental and/or substance use disorders. Their service provides referrals to local treatment facilities, support groups, and community-based organizations. [[Supporter Shoutout]] [[Return|$return]] @@
<img src="images/credit_ss.png" align="center"> @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@
Your name is $name $surname with ?she/?her pronouns. You are a $region Phoenix with markings $markings. You have $eyes eyes and <<if $length is not "bald">>$length, $type and $hair hair.<<else>>are bald.<</if>> You are also $height for your height. <<if $gender is "male" or $trans>><<if $beard is "none">>You cannot grow a beard.<<elseif $beard is "nb">>You don't have a beard.<<else>>You have a $beard beard.<</if>><</if>> You have a large scar residing <<if $scar is "shoulder">>on your shoulder.<<elseif $scar is "back">>across your back.<<elseif $scar is "chest">>along your chest.<<else>>nowhere yet.<</if>> <<if $prologuefin>>You <<if $route_ruben>>were rescued by House Dragon<<elseif $route_ozara>>were rescued by House Pegasus<<elseif $route_nour>>were rescued by House Griffin<<elseif $route_zarik>>were rescued by House Basilisk<<elseif $route_makaio>>rescued yourself.<<else>>have not yet been rescued<</if>>.<</if>> *''Diet'': <<if $pesca>>Mainly fish<<elseif $vegan>>Mainly fruits and vegetables<<else>>Mainly meat<</if>> *''Religious'': <<if $prayer>>Yes<<else>>No<</if>> <<if $prologuefin>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ ''Nickname'': <<if $r_nn is "NA">>Ruben not Met<<elseif $r_nn is "Ruben">>No Nickname<<else>>$r_nn<</if>> ''Clan Attitude'': <<if $clan <40>>Cold<<elseif $clan >60>>Warm<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Flame'': $flame <<if $rc_1>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter One">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Does Ruben find Phoenix in the dungeon?'' <<if $dungeon>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Does Ruben know about Phoenix's form?'' <<if $shift>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Was an arrangement made?'' <<if $arrangement>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix tell Ruben to run when confronted?'' <<if $runruben>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <</if>>\ <<if $rc_3>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Three">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did Phoenix decide to help out Mauve and Okti?'' <<if $mauveokti>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Okti promise to reward Phoenix with an outfit due to a bet?'' <<if $r_bet>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *<<if $handwarm>>Phoenix allowed Ruben to warm ?her_ hands. Later helping ?her to discover ?her flame.<<else>>Phoenix did not allow Ruben to warm ?her hands. <<if $flamefound>>But later allowed Ruben to help ?her and found ?her_ flame.<<else>>Progress further to unlock this.<</if>><</if>> *<<if $invitation>>Tozraz extended an invitation to Phoenix.<<else>>Toz did not extend an invitation to Phoenix.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Three Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_4>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Four">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *Accepting Toz's invitation, Phoenix decided to <<if $abusetalk_level is 1>>not talk about ?her abuse.<<elseif $abusetalk_level is 2>>see what happens, not deciding one or the other.<<else>>talk about ?her abuse.<</if>> *''Did Toz and Phoenix kiss?'' <<if $tozkiss>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Four Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_5>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Five">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ Relationship Determined: <<if $lockR is "mindful">>Mindful<<else>>Fiery<</if>> *''Did Phoenix or Ruben get hit by an arrow?'' <<if $arrow_phoenix>>Phoenix was hit by an arrow.<<elseif $arrow_ruben>>Ruben was hit by an arrow.<<else>>Neither were hit by an arrow.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix make a comment about the Chunae to Ruben or hoped that Draconis' comment made Ruben hurt?'' <<if $chunaecomment or $hurtcomment>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix tell Ruben about the tower?'' <<if $towerknown>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Five Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_6>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Six">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''What was Deja's fate?'' <<if $refuselaurens is false and $runruben2>>Deja and her parents are alive and well.<<elseif $refuselaurens is false and $runruben2 is false>>Deja is alive but her parents are dead.<<elseif $refuselaurens and $runruben2>>Deja is dead but her parents are alive.<<else>>Deja and her parents are both dead.<</if>> *''Did Ruben agree to sleep in Phoenix's tent?'' <<if $rubentent>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <<if $cuddle>>The two also cuddled for the night.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix gain Leik's respect?'' <<if $brallyesu and $brallyesu_won>>Yes, and won the challenge.<<elseif $brallyesu and $brallyesu_won is false>>Yes, but did not win the challenge.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix and Toz share an intimate moment?'' <<if $tozwashere>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix and Ruben share an angry-fueled kiss?'' <<if $fierykiss>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Six Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_7>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Seven">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did Phoenix accept Ruben's flight request?'' <<if $r_flight>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Seven Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_8>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Eight">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ <<if $r_bet>>*''After winning Okti's bet, did Phoenix decide on a suit or dress?'' <<if $r_bet_dress>>Dress.<<elseif $r_bet_suit>>Suit.<<else>>Neither, as Phoenix instead told Okti that ?she is dying.<</if>><</if>> *''Did Phoenix design Leik's new sword?'' <<if $leiksword>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did both Phoenix and Ruben discover that Phoenix can sing?'' <<if $singer>>Yes.<<elseif hasVisited("R8.01BadSinger")>>No, they instead discovered that Phoenix cannot sing.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix and Ruben have sex?'' <<if $r_sex>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Eight Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_9>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Nine">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Who killed Laurens?'' <<if $laurenskill>>Phoenix killed Laurens.<<else>>Ruben killed Laurens.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Nine Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $rc_10>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Ten & Epilogue">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''How is Phoenix's family bond?'' Their family bond is $fbond. *''What are the names of the twins?'' $twin1 and $twin2 <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Ten & Epilogue Notes. <</if>>\ <<elseif $route_nour>>\ ''Team Attitude'': <<if $team <50>>Reserved<<elseif $team >70>>Trusting<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Memories Collected'': <<print $mc>> <<if $nc_1>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter One">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Was Nour Informed about Tyrae?'' <<if $nourknows>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix attempt to tell Xeno the truth?'' <<if $xhonesty>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix and Nour dance together?'' <<if $dancenour>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix warn Nour about the pain they receive from touch?'' <<if $touch is 1>>Yes, Nour knows.<<elseif $touch is 2>>No, Nour does not know and Phoenix is avoiding being touched to hide it.<<else>>No, Nour does not know and Phoenix is hiding this fact entirely.<</if>> *''Did Phoenix invite Nour into their room?'' <<if hasVisited("N1.14InviteIn")>>Yes, Nour spent some of the night with Phoenix.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <</if>>\ <<if $nc_2>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Two">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Was Phoenix caught by Tyrae and forced to drink the concocotion?'' <<if $ch2drunk>>Yes, Phoenix drunk it.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Two Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $nc_3>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Three">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did a Phoenix on Nour's toxic route kiss them?'' <<if $toxickiss>>Yes, Phoenix kissed Nour.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Three Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $nc_4>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Four">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did Phoenix kiss Nour?'' <<if $nour_kiss>>Yes, they shared a quick kiss.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Four Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $nc_5>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Five">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Who saved Phoenix?'' <<if $protector is "mikitas">>Mikitas<<else>>Xeno<</if>> saved Phoenix. <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Five Notes. <</if>>\ <<if $nc_6>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Six">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did Phoenix drink the contents of the vial or throw it away?'' <<if $emptyvial>>Phoenix drunk the contents of the vial. <<else>>Phoenix did not drink the contents, instead throwing the vial off the side of the mesa.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Six Notes. <</if>>\ <<elseif $route_ozara>>\ ''Trio Attitude'': <<if $trio <30>>Distant<<elseif $trio >70>>Close<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Nyana'iva Relationship'': <<if $nyana is "crush">>Nyana'iva is $name's crush.<<elseif $nyana is "friend">>Nyana'iva is $name's friend.<<else>>Nyana'iva is simply $name's servant and acquaintance.<</if>> ''Magic'': $mastery <<if $oc_1>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter One">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''How does Phoenix feel about their powers?'' <<if $fear is "powers">>Refuses to ever use them.<<else>>Terrified of them and what they can do.<</if>> <<if $dungeon>>*''Did $name stand up for Nyana'iva?'' <<if $nyanatrust>>$name attempted to switch places with Nyana'iva.<<else>>$name left Nyana'iva to face her punishment on her own.<</if>><</if>> ''Did Ozara give Phoenix a nickname?'' <<if $o_nn is "Corpse">>Ozara calls Phoenix, Corpse.<<else>>Ozara did not give Phoenix a nickname.<</if>><</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <</if>>\ <<if $oc_2>>\ <h2><<link "Chapter Two">></h2> <<popover 'opaque'>>\ *''Did Phoenix tell Ozara and her team about the stone?'' <<if $stone>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>> <</popover>>\ <</link>> <<else>>\ Progress further in the story to unlock Chapter Two Notes. <</if>>\ <<elseif $route_zarik>>\ ''Unit Attitude'': <<if $unit <50>>Distrusting<<elseif $unit >=70>>Welcoming<<else>>Neutral<</if>> ''Purpose'': <<if $purpose is "lost">>Phoenix isn't quite sure what ?her purpose is. ?She <<verb 'doubts'>> ?herself and what the future will hold.<<elseif $purpose is "confident">>Phoenix is confident in ?her purpose and future, even though it's unknown.<<elseif $purpose is "freedom">>Phoenix has given up on ?her purpose and after so long, now only serves ?herself.<<else>>Phoenix has no special thoughts about their purpose yet.<</if>> <<if $zc_2>>*''Did Phoenix tell Zarik about Sun's warning?'' <<if $zariksun>>Yes.<<else>>No.<</if>><<else>>Progress further in the story to unlock this.<</if>> <<elseif $route_makaio>>\ ''Family Attitude'': <<if $family <50>><<elseif $family >=50>><<else>>Neutral<</if>> <<else>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ [[Return|$return]]
@@.center; Thank you for playing the demo for ''Throne of Ashes.'' The intended schedule for releasing this book will be done in segments through Patreon and once complete, will be released fully through itch.io. Currently (as of 21/07/22) Ruben's route is completed and Nour is next to be finished, followed by Ozara. Follow [[my tumblr|https://13leaguestories.tumblr.com/]] for more updates on this game and others. And if you wish to support please consider becoming a [[patreon|https://www.patreon.com/13Leagues]]. @@ <img src="images/credit_ss.png"> [[Credits]] [[Play the Demo Again->Start]]
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "v">><</nobr>> You have a vagina.
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "p">><</nobr>> You have a penis.
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "na">><</nobr>> You have chosen not to disclose this information.
<<nobr>><<set $chest to "p">><</nobr>> You have breasts.
<<nobr>><<set $chest to "np">><</nobr>> You do not have breasts.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "male">><</nobr>> You are a cis male.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "male"; $trans = true>><</nobr>> You are a trans male.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "female">><</nobr>> You are a cis female.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "female"; $trans = true>><</nobr>> You are a trans female.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "nonbinary">><</nobr>> You are nonbinary.
<<nobr>> <<unset $behinddoor; $closet; $underneathbed; $drugged; $attack; $checkup>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "dark" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>> You're dead. That's the only explanation you have that can rationalize your surroundings. How else could you go from existing in the middle of a blizzard to … wherever this is. If there is a sun, you see no sign of it. The sole light source above paints the sky a muddy and alarming green. In a way, you wish to say the nearly concealed sky is sick, but it could all simply be due to the blanched foliage that aids in barring your view and your lack of worldly knowledge. Placing your attention on more immediate surroundings do nothing to calm the dread that settles onto a pained heart. You exist in the middle of a lake just as dark as the sky, with ghostly blue lanterns hanging from trees with crooked branches. Long vines hang from them limply and cause you to feel like you unknowingly entered a trap. Your attention leaves the trees, focusing on a dark gray fog that begins to encroach until circling you entirely. "What do we have here?" the darkness questions. Despite the malevolent ambiance, the zoetic fog keeps its distance, as if just as wary of you as you are of it. "You smell of cursed magic and the malodor of my brother," it hisses. "Your brother?" The faceless fog seems to swallow itself before it disperses, and in its place stands a godlike woman dressed in black. Her skin is an almost hue-less gray, and her veiled hair long and as white as the purest snow. She walks with a grace you have seen no other possess and owns a commanding aura. But there is something else about her. A sadness that causes your heart to weep for no valid or definable reason. She walks across the water, her long black dress gliding across the surface as the edges shift into the fog you had seen earlier. She comes close enough for you to make out the features existing behind her long black veil, and you find yourself enraptured by eyes that reflect the cosmos. "I am dead," you manage to speak, struck by the realization. "In a way," she answers nonchalantly, "I don't care much for how only why. You should not be here." She gestures to you, "may I?" [[Move away.|M1.00MoveAway][$notouchy = true]] [[Nod.|M1.00Nod]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You are touch adversed.<</notify>><</if>> A simple raise of her hand, and you find yourself moving away. You wish to understand and gather yourself. So much seems to have been said in one small sentence. In your haste to get away from her, the back of your foot slips off the edge of the rock platform you stand on. Before you fall, the woman grabs you, ensuring you're stable before grabbing your chin in a rough and crude manner. A bolt of pain ricochets through your mind, and you suffer a dizzy spell. When the haze flees, you find the woman a few feet away, staring at a small star with a ruminating look. <<include "1.00M">>
Though you stiffen due to her unexplained reason, you nod and allow her to draw closer. She carefully takes your face into her hands, and the mourning feeling intensifies even more. Only now do you realize the origins. Her. Against your attempts, you begin to tear up, and your vision grows blurry as it feels like this sadness will overwhelm and thus consume you. But before it can seize your heart, it retreats, and the tears and haze with it. Glancing around, you find the woman is now a few feet away, staring at a small star with a ruminating look. <<include "1.00M">>
"Oh, my dear child," she tsks, shaking her head as she lowers her hand, the star retreating but never wandering far. "I see yet another soul is doomed in my brother's name." "You have yet to answer me. Who is your brother?" "Sun," she answers simply. You glance at your surroundings as if waiting for the still water or the twisted trees to confirm her words. A High God. You stand before a High God. You don't know why the answer shocks you. The being practically embodies the theme of night. But from the few stories you have heard concerning her, she does not exhibit the characteristics told to you. You were told that this goddess was as lively as water and free as the wind. She possessed a kindness so rare to see that extended to all creatures. The personification of serenity. This is not the Moon from those stories. You would have believed it more if she said she was Darkness. <a data-passage="1.00.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"So, I am dead." "Again, in a way." "What does that mean?" "Your heart no longer beats in the world you know. But your soul has yet to depart and be guided towards its rest. My acolyte seems to have unknowingly saved you by sending you to me." [[“Who is your acolyte?”|M1.00Acolyte]] [[“How do I fix this?”|M1.00FixThis]] [[“Wait. What?”|M1.00WaitWhat]]
"Your acolyte? Who is that? There was no one with me when I escaped." Save for a phearn, but you heavily doubt that is who she refers to. But why would it? The tales mention animal messengers all the time. What if the phearn was exclusively sent to you? It was a familiar figure. "Who they are is none of your concern, nor will it matter even if I were to answer. The chances of you returning to your body now rests with me. And if I am to be truthful, I find myself growing tired of your unwelcomed presence." <<include "1.01M">>
"If what you say is true, how do I fix this? How do I get back to my body and avoid this death?" "Have you not heard what I said? There is no returning. The only thing keeping you anchored is your presence here and my prolonging. And if I am to speak openly and honestly, I find myself growing tired of your unwelcomed presence." <<include "1.01M">>
You hear everything she says. You just don't understand any of it. Each statement provides you with more questions until you're unsure if you're genuinely here or just having a lucid dream. Perhaps Tyrae had given you different medicine when performing the check-up. Very potent medicine that caused you to hallucinate everything that took place once you went to sleep. The siege, the blizzard, and now this … All of it part of an overly imaginative dream. How to wake up, though? Clutching your head, you attempt to think about your room and envision the smells and sights. When you open your eyes, you find yourself still there. Despite your body telling you to panic, you remain calm and seek out the goddess whose true emotions are obscured due to her veil. "I … I don't know what's going on." "To simplify everything. Your life now rests within my hands," she huffs dispassionately, "and I find myself growing tired of your unwelcomed presence." <<include "1.01M">>
"What? So you choose to let me die? Just like that?" "Is this world not dark enough? I have seen your memories and viewed your life. Would it not be easier to accept that you have tried, failed, and to then move on to something far more peaceful? To finally be free?" [[“Perhaps …”|M1.01Perhaps][$lost +=5]] [[“That is my choice.”|M1.01MyChoice][$lost -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Lost ++</span><</if>> "Perhaps," you answer, drifting off into thought. She snorts in derision and mimics you, "perhaps." <<include "1.01.1M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Free ++</span><</if>> "I believe that should be up to me." She chuckles darkly, "no. In fact, you handed that power over to the blizzard that you found yourself trapped in. <<include "1.01.1M">>
You pause, looking the woman over. "I admit that I have not heard much about you, but what I heard and the figure standing before me is not the same. You're like a twisted version of all those stories." "Perhaps all of those stories were false?" she hums in question. The fog returns but this time, it swarms her. The lanterns begin to tremble as their light grows faint, and even the already darkened sky seems drained of color. All of the light shoots towards Moon, corrupting her appearance further as she grows larger. Those deep blue eyes no longer display the expanse of the cosmos. Instead, it shows the end of the world. "Or perhaps gods are more than the simple stories you mortals tell." Her booming voice causes the land to shake and the wind to roar. You brace as the water rises, threatening to sweep you under its folds. At first, you believe you can withstand the onslaught, but a moment later, you slip. The weight of the water grabs and pulls, and your grip on the already slippery rock begins to falter. Fear stings your heart as the unknown rests beneath you. //No//, you mentally scream, digging nails into rock and ignoring the sound of them scraping and the pain that originates. //This is not how you will go. This is not how you will die.// It takes a few more minutes for you to not only catch your breath but also regain enough energy to pull yourself up. But you accomplish it. You rise on shaky legs and glare at the goddess, only to see that she has shifted back into her original size. Once again, that melancholy air sets in, and the surroundings also seem to feel this great sorrow. The trees hunch over, and the grass appears to shrivel up more than before. <a data-passage="1.01.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"If I am to die," you speak after an appropriate amount of silence has passed, "then can you at least tell me why?" She sighs, "I cannot tell you why nor when nor who. Because your curse does not concern me, I am only able to see what you have seen and therefore tell you only so much." "I can work with that." She gazes over at you, with no amount of excitement or care possessing her, and says, "then ask your questions." //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1")>>“What is this curse?”<<else>>[[“What is this curse?”|M1Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q2")>>“You said Sun has something to do with it?”<<else>>[[“You said Sun has something to do with it?”|M1Q2]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"What is this curse? You said you can't tell me why, when, or who. But you can tell me what and perhaps how, right?" "I can." She sits but instead of plopping down on the ground, she hovers in the air. "It is rightfully called a divine curse. Typically placed by fools with too much power and blinded by an unadulterated amount of anger. When a regular curse does not sate their thirst, they turn to those above. A divine curse works similarly to any other but is bound to whatever deity the caster has summoned. The curse lives on until the terms are met, feeding off of our immortal energy." //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.1")>>“Why this curse and not a regular one?”<<else>>[[“Why this curse and not a regular one?”|M1Q1.1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.2")>>“And you agree to this?”<<else>>[[“And you agree to this?”|M1Q1.2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.3")>>“Seems horribly one-sided.”<<else>>[[“Seems horribly one-sided.”|M1Q1.3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q2")>>“You said Sun has something to do with it?”<<else>>[[“You said Sun has something to do with it?”|M1Q2]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"Seems far more work to do when a regular one is enough. So, why choose this?" "Because mortals are petty things with a need to spread their chaos." <<if $mouthy >=50>>\ "Sounds like someone has some issues she needs to work out." The star following her around rushes to her side, orbiting her like a child wishing to earn her attention. She finally reaches out to it, examining and chuckles, "you would understand, would you not?" You frown. <<else>>\ "Some would say the same about gods and how they use mortals as their play toys." She hums, "I suppose you are right. Two groups that will never understand one another and yet may have more in common than either side wishes to admit." For a minute, you see a shift in her appearance. But it is too quick for you to be sure. Feeling more like a trick of the mind. <</if>>\ "A regular curse will have loopholes. Ways to nullify it with ease if one has the means and knowledge too. Seek out a more powerful witch. Kill the caster. Review the terms placed and look between the lines for a solution. All of this is possible and has been done. But a divine curse eliminates these things. There is no witch powerful enough to alter a divine curse. Killing the caster may mean nothing. One can look for an alternative solution, but a wise caster will ensure their terms and rules are defined to make this near impossible. As I have said before, it feeds off of our energy, so it will last till its completion." //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.2")>>“And you agree to this?”<<else>>[[“And you agree to this?”|M1Q1.2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.3")>>“Seems horribly one-sided.”<<else>>[[“Seems horribly one-sided.”|M1Q1.3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q2")>>“You said Sun has something to do with it?”<<else>>[[“You said Sun has something to do with it?”|M1Q2]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"And you agree to this?" "Does it appear like we agree to this?" "So any caster can just bound a god of their choice?" "Yes, but I fear you are thinking far too simplistically. For the caster to bind a god, they must first summon said god. No god will stay upon understanding what is being done, so a ritual is required to trap us. No ordinary witch can do this, nor can they always find the needed ingredients." "Does it hurt you?" "Yes, in a way that you may not understand. Our energy is constantly being sapped and bound to whatever the caster has decided upon. In my brother's case, he is now involved in your life regardless if he ever wished to. A rope will appear," she tells you and points to her wrist, "representing the curse, and it will tighten over time. It is not pleasant." //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.1")>>“Why this curse and not a regular one?”<<else>>[[“Why this curse and not a regular one?”|M1Q1.1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.3")>>“Seems horribly one-sided.”<<else>>[[“Seems horribly one-sided.”|M1Q1.3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q2")>>“You said Sun has something to do with it?”<<else>>[[“You said Sun has something to do with it?”|M1Q2]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"This all seems horribly one-sided. The only person who gets anything out of it is the caster. The god is bound and has their energy stolen, and the individual with the curse is well … cursed." "The caster earns their consequence once the curse is finished." "What is it?" "Death. Permanently." "What do you mean?" She calls upon the star again, "whenever a person dies, their soul lives on. It moves to the astral plane, where they live forevermore. The caster of this curse does not get this. When they make this curse, they tie their souls to it, similarly to how a deity has their energy tied to it. Once done, their soul is absorbed by the god in question. And if tied to a High God, like your caster is to my brother, then their entire line will meet this fate." "So, the person who placed this curse. They doomed everyone related to them?" "Yes. Alive and dead. Once this curse is complete, they will all cease to exist." This now begs the question of what you could have done for someone to doom not only themselves but all those they loved. Whatever it is opens a pit in your stomach that refuses to close. //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.1")>>“Why this curse and not a regular one?”<<else>>[[“Why this curse and not a regular one?”|M1Q1.1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q1.2")>>“And you agree to this?”<<else>>[[“And you agree to this?”|M1Q1.2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1Q2")>>“You said Sun has something to do with it?”<<else>>[[“You said Sun has something to do with it?”|M1Q2]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"You said Sun has something to do with this curse." "I'm surprised you are just now learning this. Has he not contacted you?" "No." "I have no answers for you. I have distanced myself from my brother, so his machinations are his own." "Is there a reason this individual called upon him specifically?" "I would not know. Nor can I really say I care." //Only choose the last question when ready to move on.// <<if hasVisited("M1Q1")>>“What is this curse?”<<else>>[[“What is this curse?”|M1Q1]]<</if>> [[“Is this a common thing?”|1.01.3M]]
"How many times has this kind of curse been cast?" Moon grows silent, "far too many and yet, not as much to describe it as common or typical." She enters into what seems like a moment of thought before humming. "And I do believe we can use this to our advantage." "Excuse me?" She does not immediately answer you, but you already know she's deep in thought. Her ideas are her own until she lends them her voice. "$name," she finally exclaims, the most cheerful she has looked since you have arrived, but even that is going too far. There is simply more emotion painting her voice, "an opportunity sits before us. One that I believe is in both of our best interests to grasp." "And why would I agree to anything?" "Because you have two choices. Only two. Die now or accept my proposal." [[“I see.”|M1.01ISee][$mouthy -=5]] [[“You lie.”|M1.01YouLie][$loner +=5]] [[“Kindness my ass.”|M1.01MyAss][$mouthy +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> You frown but nod regardless, "I see. It hardly feels like much of a choice." <<include "1.01.4M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Loner ++</span><</if>> You snort, throwing your head back as you release the air, "you lie. Where is my third option? The option where I do what I have always done and find a solution on my own." "You have trouble listening, I see," Moon states, and you frown as her words remind you of Bane. "I said only two, not for my personal benefit. That rock you stand on is your precipice and the water, the abyss. One step off, and you have accepted death, for the only reason you have not met it is because of my acolyte. Your only other option is to not step off, which means I send you back. And for that, you must agree with me." <<include "1.01.4M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> You clasp your hands together as if praying, "Moon is kind and cares for all creatures. I would surely love to question those stories now. I see nothing but an opportunistic goddess with an aversion towards color." "I have long since shed that description," she tells you, stepping onto the water and approaching, "and I do not care … not anymore. So, choose." <<include "1.01.4M">>
You look her over, "and I'm to trust you?" "I gave you a choice. Is that not what you mortals crave to have? A choice?" "I am more fond of assurance." "That, I cannot give you. This is the first time this has happened, giving us a very intriguing opportunity. An opportunity that allows me to theorize and test, and you, at worst, prolong your life a few moments longer, and at best, live." <a data-passage="1.01.5M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"And what is your proposal?" She stands before you, her eyes brightening and making it hard for you to look away. "You enter into a divine curse with me." Her words are enough to break the trance, and you take a step back, remembering at the last minute what you stand on. "Did you not just say that divine curses are horrible and that casters find their souls taken? How does this help me whatsoever?" "Perhaps curse is the wrong word," she points out, "think of this as more of a pact." "And yet it still follows the same rules as a curse." "Not entirely. A curse is on another being. The timing of the stipulations is out of the caster's control. And, the god never wishes to be bound. This is voluntary on both sides. We will agree upon the rules and terms and, in the end, it should aid us both. There is no death." "A divine pact?" "Yes. I do think that is a far better word." <<if hasVisited("M1.01EvenPossible")>>“Is this even possible?”<<else>>[[“Is this even possible?”|M1.01EvenPossible]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1.01WhatDoYouGet")>>“I get life. But what do you get?”<<else>>[[“I get life. But what do you get?”|M1.01WhatDoYouGet]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1.01IfWeFail")>>“What happens if we fail?”<<else>>[[“What happens if we fail?”|M1.01IfWeFail]]<</if>>
"Is any of this even possible?" "I do not know," she laughs, a wicked sound that causes you to feel unease, "there is so much I do not know, and this is all because this is the first time this has ever happened. Never before has another god been able to interfere in this way." <<if hasVisited("M1.01WhatDoYouGet")>>“I get life. But what do you get?”<<else>>[[“I get life. But what do you get?”|M1.01WhatDoYouGet]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1.01IfWeFail")>>“What happens if we fail?”<<else>>[[“What happens if we fail?”|M1.01IfWeFail]]<</if>> [[Think all this through.|1.01.6M]]
"If all goes according to plan, then I get to live." She nods. "But what do you get out of this?" "I get to anger my brother and find a way that may just help combat these divine curses in the future." "I'm sorry, anger your brother? That sounds petty." "It is. And I fully embrace it. If this first part works and you can be returned, then this will only prolong the curse, inevitably causing him pain. It will also allow us to experiment and find ways to break the original curse." <<if hasVisited("M1.01EvenPossible")>>“Is this even possible?”<<else>>[[“Is this even possible?”|M1.01EvenPossible]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1.01IfWeFail")>>“What happens if we fail?”<<else>>[[“What happens if we fail?”|M1.01IfWeFail]]<</if>> [[Think all this through.|1.01.6M]]
"And what happens if none of this works and we fail?" "Then you die. But is that not what would happen if you refused or never agreed anyway?" There is truth to her words. If you say no to her right now, you die. If she had the ability to breathe life into your body, then would you not just die later due to the curse? If this fails, then you die. The presence of death no longer feels heavy but more of an annoyance now. Constantly following you and reminding you that it is indeed still there with no intention of leaving. <<if hasVisited("M1.01EvenPossible")>>“Is this even possible?”<<else>>[[“Is this even possible?”|M1.01EvenPossible]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M1.01WhatDoYouGet")>>“I get life. But what do you get?”<<else>>[[“I get life. But what do you get?”|M1.01WhatDoYouGet]]<</if>> [[Think all this through.|1.01.6M]]
You think about it, and there is no outcome besides agreeing where you see yourself living. The problem is putting your trust into this being. If her words are true, Sun has already turned his back on you. Granted, Moon has honestly admitted that her wish to do this revolves around her getting back at Sun, but what if she deceives you. Are you even in a position to question and frown upon this? The silence of the Voice bugs you. Ever since you entered this domain, you have not heard one word from a voice that has always been so talkative. You can imagine it having much to say, so why could its voice not be heard here? "What are you thinking?" "The pact will be resolved when your curse ends." "So no matter if I die or not, the pact will end?" "Yes. No death or tying yourself to another." "And the terms and rules?" Moon shrugs, "I have none." "Then mine. You will not deceive me. You will be honest every step. And if only to be sure, you will not have my soul. My death will find me in the afterlife like any other." She nods. Her promptness should ease a stuttering heart, but it does not. You glance around, frowning. "So what now?" "Now, we actually make this into a true pact. Similar to the binding with a curse. Hold still. I must cut you." You take a deep breath and do so wearily, bracing for the pain. As she said, she cuts you and draws a symbol upon your arm. The blood that leaves the cut floats upwards, and as it gathers in the air in front of you, Moon cuts herself. A similar symbol is drawn, but a lovely white and blue essence travels out instead of blood. Moon speaks in a language foreign to your ears; as she does it, the blood and essence mix. After a while, you can no longer discern what is what. It splits and flees back to you as she finishes the ritual, and you watch as a loose, blue binding appears on her arm. <a data-passage="1.01.7M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Does it hurt?" you question, fearing that whatever was done failed. "No," she tells you, picking at it with curiosity, "it will seem that I am already learning new things, and we have only just begun." "And now?" "Now I send you back and hope that this," she holds up her wrist, "means more than just a hapless promise that will soon fail. If you die, there is no helping you and no way to nullify a divine curse. But, if you live. Well … let us see if you live. If you return successfully, I will need time to think and figure out what to do next." You understand her words but find it hard to accept them. No matter what becomes of this, she lives. She shrugs and finds this to be a failed experiment and goes back to whatever she was doing before you were sent to her. But for you, that's it. //A lesson you have learned so long ago.// You pause, frowning. For a minute, you had believed that the Voice was back. But no, that was your voice, your thoughts. "Prepare yourself." You blink, realizing what Moon is about to do. [[“Did you detect anything else?”|M1.01DetectAnything]] [[“How do I find you again?”|M1.01FindYouAgain]] [[“Death. Does it hurt?”|M1.01DeathHurtsHuh]]
"Wait! Earlier, you said you sensed the curse and your brother's influence. Is there anything else that you detected?" "No?" she answers with a raised brow. With an answer given, she glides toward you and taps your forehead. <<include "1.02M">>
"If I need to find you again, how do I do it?" "I will come to you if that is even a possibility. Be patient." "Easy for you to say," you grumble and hear her laugh. One that sounds carefree and almost kind. But before you overthink it, she glides up to you and taps your forehead. <<include "1.02M">>
"Answer me this," you say as she comes closer, ready to send you back, "death, when it finally does claim you, does it hurt?" She pauses and her eyes, somehow, manage to grow even more downcast than before. "They say a dark figure comes and reaches out for you. He has piercing eyes and a cold demeanor. Many run from him. If you do see this figure, go to him. He will not hurt you. If you believe nothing I say, believe that." Her words are strange, and you're not sure they actually answer your question, but there is nothing to be done about it as she taps your forehead. <<include "1.02M">>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> Warmth. That is the first thought you have as you regain consciousness. The next is the pain that stings your chest, a result of exposure to the cold. The third prances around the idea that the conversation you held with Moon was nothing but a fairly odd dream. And the fourth thought is wrapped around in a sheet of confusion that refuses to budge or explain itself. You're in a bed. Yet this isn't the bed you're familiar with, nor is it a figurative one. After your escape, you should have been sent to the dungeon, unconscious or not. But then Moon has said that you had died, or partially died. Attempting to recall facts at the moment causes nothing but a headache. To be here … wherever here is … The headache increases, and as you move to get a better look around, the touch of another causes you to stir. "Oh, thank Sun," you hear a voice mutter, glancing to see an older man residing there, his tired, $eyes irises floating in a sea of cracked red while dark bags reside against nearly wrinkled skin. "You're awake," he nearly shouts, throwing his arms around you and embracing you tightly. You move out of his embrace, your heart beating wildly as your mind tries to catch up and understand. Terror sets in, and before you or this unknown man can voice a thought, another figure enters. The woman's brown eyes are nearly as large as the man's, and when they meet yours, she covers her mouth as she swallows a choking sob. <a data-passage="1.02.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" She shoots forward, only stopped by a sudden movement to your left, the man. He shakes his head and glances over at you. "This is too much. I have already foolishly pushed the boundaries." "Who are you? Where am I?" Their eyes shift to you before falling back on each other. "Perhaps we should have a healer look at ?her first. To make sure ?she <<verb 'is'>> fine." "?She<<verb "'s" "'re">> fine, kěamo. I only stopped you due to energy. We have to be slow." "Yes, I understand that. I only wish to get a physician in case us explaining anything might be too much for ?her at the moment. We have no idea what nearly dying has done." [[“Answer me!”|M1.02AnswerMe][$mouthy +=5; $family -=3]] [[“Silence. Please.”|M1.02Silence][$mouthy -=5; $family +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> "?She <<verb 'is'>> perfectly fine and has asked a question that needs an answer. So, answer it." They both seem taken back by the fury in your words. Instead of immediately answering, they enter into a bout of silence, increasing your irritation. "Do not sit there," you say again, "answer me. Who are you, and where am I?" <<include "1.02.2M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> "Silence," you moan, taking a moment to breathe, "please." There is too much going on, and you find it hard to concentrate. Where do you even begin? Moon? The escape? Your death? No, none of those places. With the way your head is pounding, you'd rather just save each of those topics for another time. Glancing at the two faces surrounding you, you decide to focus on them and your current predicament. "Where am I?" <<include "1.02.2M">>
"In the palace," the woman blurts out, pausing and releasing a breath, "you are home, $name. Finally." "That provides me with as much information as I had before," you mumble. "You have no recollection of who we are?" the man questions. From his tone, you understand that you should, but the truth is that - It takes a moment of clarity and staring at the man for a moment longer to realize who he is. Visions of a giggling and energetic child and the man who held ?her close. ?She <<verb 'has'>> always been so interested in his eyes, especially when later learning that ?she had the exact same ones. "Wot?" you whisper, seeing his eyes light up with the joy of being remembered. A glance at the woman instantly tells you who she is, "and kii?" "Yes," she laughs, tears springing from her eyes. Both seem to grow emotional over the reunion, and as you stare back and forth between the two figures, you are consumed by … [[Anger.|M1.02Anger][$anger +=5]] [[Sadness.|M1.02Sad][$sad +=5]] [[Nothing.|M1.02Numb][$numb +=5]]
They treat this reunion as if it was something to be happy about. As if their emotions were actually warranted. Fifteen years. That's how long it's been since you've seen their face because they sent you away. You lost your wings, and they decided that the best course of action was to send their child away. The more they smiled, the more your blood boiled. You had no wish to scream. For that, you would need energy that your body didn't currently possess. But you did want them gone and out of your sight. Your head is hurting enough, and your emotions are already in turmoil due to things you have recently learned. They simply make it worse. "Get out." <<include "1.02.3M">>
Whether that sadness is for yourself or them, you don't honestly know. In fact, the feeling of despair seems to possess you for no reason other than it can. The more you think about it, the more you seem sad about everything you have recently learned and endured. Sadness towards all those who fell in the tower, for yourself, for the parents that stand before you, for Moon, and perhaps a bit for Sun. A pang of sadness for all of the what-ifs you can think of regarding your past and, therefore, your future. Mostly the sorrow fell on your predicament. You understand that though you are now safe, there is little hope for this being your sanctuary when it can simply be another disguised prison. "Can you leave?" <<include "1.02.3M">>
Nothing. But it is not the nothing that you have grown used to. In the past, that numbness has always been faithful to its meaning. Even when another emotion is felt, the numbness and lack of care always fall onto you, and the world turns into swatches of gray, black, and white. This nothing did not have you sitting there indifferently, caring nothing for anything. This nothingness felt more like a void that you have intentionally entered. It grips at you and pulls, and you are helpless to it. Every thought, feeling, and emotion is swallowed, and a strange fear is allowed to take root. One that causes you to question if this will be your new way of living. A void that feels, sees, and experiences nothing. It does not help that your parents continue to mope a few feet away, their incessant sobs of joy causing a type of disgust to form. "Will both of you just leave?" <<include "1.02.3M">>
Your father seems to be the first to hear and comprehend what you say. A look of confusion crosses his face, but you do not wish to hear them say anything more. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>"Get out!" you shout, wishing to throw something, wishing to<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>"Both of you!" you shout, "leave, now!" You wish to throw something, to<<else>>"Did I mumble? Go, now!" you shout at them, wishing to throw something and<</if>> demonstrate to them every feeling you have felt for the past few years. They both stand, and though they seem addled about whatever has caused such a conniption, they do as you say and leave. <<if $numb gt $sad and $numb gt $anger>>Your chest tightens as you watch them go and eyes grow watery. It feels like the void relinquishes its control, but it assures you with harsh pats that it will return. The rush of pain is unbearable and sends ripples through your entire body that causes an almost spasm response.<<else>>Your chest tightens as you watch them go, and your eyes grow watery. What are you even crying about? Why did everything just suddenly hurt? As if to give you more things to fear, a sharp pain ripples throughout your entire body, causing an almost spasm response.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.03M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Gripping the blanket covering you, you clench your eyes closed and try to breathe. But every breath comes out strangled and only pushes you farther towards a brink that you had not previously noticed. Your sobs refuse to leave your throat, as if stopped by the <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>anger<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>despair<<else>>the void<</if>> that guards the corridor. It ends with you feeling as if you are both choking and needing to vomit, neither truly happening, and therefore only the sense of being suspended in the air wins out. You take in one deep breath after another as you lay there motionless. Any energy you had a moment ago is zapped from your body, and you close your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep. Or as dreamless as you suppose sleep can be. The world around you does not exist, and you feel like you float in a sea of obscurity. You are here, but you are not. "<span class="voice">Poor, poor $name,</span>" you hear a familiar voice mutter from the darkness. An orb flits into view, circling you with lazy actions. "Look whose back." <<if $voice >=50>>\ <span class="voice"><<if $checkup>>"Was it not you who sought to push me away? But I'm not angry, my<<else>>My<</if>> absence was needed for you to see the truth without obstruction.</span>" "The truth? And what might that be?" "<span class="voice">That you have been nothing but a burden from the day you were born. A burden on your parents, those in the tower, and even the Gods themselves. In fact, you have even burdened yourself more than once. I left so that you could see this and choose the appropriate choice, one that Moon so graciously gave you.</span>" "What are you -" The Voice doesn't allow you to get the words out, tsk'ing you as if genuinely disappointed. "<span class="voice">Moon gave you the option to take a step. And instead, you stood there. Selfish.</span>" <<else>>\ "<span class="voice">Yes. There are times even I must leave and take a break from you.</span>" "Leave me, you say. You are nothing more than a figment in //my head//." "<span class="voice">With how much you despise me. One would then think you would have tried to get rid of me.</span>" "I'm still trying to figure out a way." <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.03.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $voice >=50>>\ "You'd rather I die?" Saying the words aloud, even if confined to this pit, causes you to flinch and fight the shiver it produces. "<span class="voice">I want what's best for you. You obviously do not want the same. The more I am with you, the more I realize that you like this torture.</span>" "No." "<span class="voice">Yes,</span>" it instantly corrects, "<span class="voice">otherwise, you are nothing but a failure. Someone who puts themselves in positions to resemble that of a pest. Is that it?</span>" "No!" "<span class="voice">Then you like this.</span>" There is a finality to their words that has you struggling to find a proper way of responding. The same pain from before racks your body, and you're unsure if it's wiser to fight it or just let it run its course. "<span class="voice">And to think,</span>" the Voice grows distant, "<span class="voice">you could have finally been freed from all of this, you stupid, little phoenix.</span>" You attempt to follow, "don't go." "<span class="voice">Wake up.</span>" <<else>>\ "<span class="voice">Ah, so you are weak.</span>" "No," you growl defensively. "<span class="voice">Then what are you? If not weak, then stupid. If neither weak nor stupid, then simply lazy. And if you dare to say that none of those are true, then you are a liar. A liar wishing to direct all that burning hatred onto another, and I have found myself the lucky target. So tell me, $name, which is it.</span>" Despite your wish to reply, you find that you are without an answer. A large part of you wishes to declare it wrong, but something deeper burns that causes you to question. The orb dims, "<span class="voice">I'll be waiting for that answer.</span>" <</if>>\ Your eyes open to a well-lit room. Most of the light that streams in is from the large window that resides on a nearby wall, made in such a way to bring in as much of the sun as possible. The secondary light source is a small, tree-like plant that has small lit lanterns hanging from its branches. If the window feels intrusive, the lantern tree brings on a sense of coziness that you appreciate. The walls look like the patterns on tree trunks and the floors, wooden boards with a glistening gleam that feels very unnatural. The furnishings are limited. A dresser, two chairs circling a tall square table against a wall, and the bed. <a data-passage="1.03.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The door is closed, and there is no one but you, a fact that you are overjoyed about. You need a moment to think. Rising from your bed, you stretch and listen to the sound of multiple bones cracking. You have a light headache that threatens to worsen if you perform arduous actions and tired muscles second that. Everything feels stuffy, so you open the window hoping that the fresh air will help alleviate some of the tension you feel. One inhale, and your mind decides to plague you with everything that you have lived through in the last few hours. <<if hasVisited("M2Q1")>>The tower.<<else>>[[The tower.|M2Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q2")>>Moon and Sun.<<else>>[[Moon and Sun.|M2Q2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q3")>>Your death and the curse.<<else>>[[Your death and the curse.|M2Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q4")>>Your parents.<<else>>[[Your parents.|M2Q4]]<</if>>
You ran away, and that is something you don't regret. But you did not expect the massacre that occurred to be how you left. All those innocent lives are now gone for reasons you don't know. And then there was the ever-present feeling that their death was all because of you. Thinking about it made little sense, especially when you can't pinpoint why you feel that way. Moon has revealed the curse dangling over your life but was that enough to justify an attack being your fault? Would it not make more sense for Raznith or even Fennore to be the actual cause? You mentally agree with the logic, yet you are no closer to believing it. <<if hasVisited("M2Q2")>>Moon and Sun.<<else>>[[Moon and Sun.|M2Q2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q3")>>Your death and the curse.<<else>>[[Your death and the curse.|M2Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q4")>>Your parents.<<else>>[[Your parents.|M2Q4]]<</if>> [[Think about something else.|1.04M]]
Moon and Sun. While growing up, you were told numerous stories pertaining to the might and unmeasurable glory that Sun represents. There is never a question about whether the gods exist or not, for the answer was as clear as any other. For many of you, it is more a question of whether you choose to pray and follow, and you had never really given it much thought. Your parents are firm believers, though that may have changed. No one ever pressured you into praying, so you did it only when you accompanied someone to the temple. A few classes spoke of him, and even fewer of Moon. This is all to say that meeting one of them still brings quiet awe. For how many can claim such a thing? Meeting Sun would have probably been more worthwhile. You did not know enough about Moon to form a clear picture, and the things you did hear, well, she didn't portray them. But you had also learned that the gods are not simply a mold that one can so easily stuff them into. They were just as complex as mortals. <<if hasVisited("M2Q1")>>The tower.<<else>>[[The tower.|M2Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q3")>>Your death and the curse.<<else>>[[Your death and the curse.|M2Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q4")>>Your parents.<<else>>[[Your parents.|M2Q4]]<</if>> [[Think about something else.|1.04M]]
A curse is upon you. Knowing but not learning all the intricacies like why and by who makes knowing more than just a simplistic burden. Since you initially woke up, sharp pains have spread, and you feel far weaker than usual. The issue is not knowing whether that is due to your curse or simply because you died in a blizzard. And that strikes up yet another thing, you died. Placing your hand over your heart, you focus on the rhythmic beating of the organ and sigh. For who knows how long, all that defined you was a soul tethered to this world due to the interfering hand of a High God. <<if hasVisited("M2Q1")>>The tower.<<else>>[[The tower.|M2Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q2")>>Moon and Sun.<<else>>[[Moon and Sun.|M2Q2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q4")>>Your parents.<<else>>[[Your parents.|M2Q4]]<</if>> [[Think about something else.|1.04M]]
Your thoughts wander to your parents. Their joyful and emotional faces are seared into your mind, and each time you bring it to the forefront, you are met with mixed feelings<<if $numb gt $sad and $numb gt $anger>>, and sometimes no feelings at all. That one is odd to explain, though it is not a strange feeling to have. The faces will pop up, and you will simply stare back. When you attempt to describe your feelings, you find the problem isn't that you can't find the words, but that there are no feelings to define.<<else>>.<</if>> You went nearly fifteen years without seeing them. That time spent with you hoping that they'd show or that you'll receive a letter. And then, when it became abundantly clear that they were no longer part of your life, you moved on and worked them out of your life. Now, they are back. Their idea of you is a vision of a child. And your idea is one of sorrowful tunes laced with abandonment. And you have no idea how you wish to deal with them. <<if hasVisited("M2Q1")>>The tower.<<else>>[[The tower.|M2Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q2")>>Moon and Sun.<<else>>[[Moon and Sun.|M2Q2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2Q3")>>Your death and the curse.<<else>>[[Your death and the curse.|M2Q3]]<</if>> [[Think about something else.|1.04M]]
The open window has helped a bit, but the room feels like it is closing around you. Something you take note of is that your space in the tower was much bigger and the bed far more comfortable. You sigh; your thoughts feel like they are traveling across a narrow bridge. And so you leave the room behind, walking up and down halls that tug on your memory but do nothing more as you wave them away. You grow tired of the many thoughts that claw at you, screaming at you to remember even when such an action is impossible. Everything feels more like ideas than actual memories that you have lived out. Each ending with question marks no longer posed as statements like they should. An ornamental door catches your eye, and you slow your pace. Pressing an ear to the door, you hear no one within, and with one glance up and down the broad halls, you enter. The room is dark other than two lit candles at the front of the room and the natural sunlight that travels in through the stained glass windows. Trying to figure out what they depict becomes a task you cannot accomplish. Multiple rows of benches make up most of the room, with long pillows stretching the entire seat length. In the front, standing between the decorative candles, is a statue of Sun. You vaguely remember seeing this statue as a child. Entering this room with your parents and praying with them, all while possessing no understanding of what you were actually doing. You saw your parents do it and so you did as well. Would you have ever questioned Sun's influence otherwise? Or simply continue praying, uttering words that mean so little to you in the long run? Taking a seat on the pillow in the back row, you attempt to mirror the images from your memory but find such a position uncomfortable and odd. And so you simply sit, gazing up at the statue and the god it represents. [[Talk to him.|M1.04Talk]] [[Remain silent.|M1.04Silent]]
Clearing your throat, you open your mouth to speak but find yourself at odds with what to say. It's not like this is the first time you have ever prayed. "Why?" you find yourself saying, not even privy to the fact that you had spoken the words aloud until later. The question remains. "Why did you stay quiet? You heard me. I know you did, and instead of helping me, you watched me suffer and die. Perhaps that's what you wanted. Maybe even for me to die quicker." You take a deep breath to soothe a trembling heart, but it does not calm. Instead, your voice quivers right along with it. "I was always told that you watch over and care for us. Perhaps it's selfish, but I was tied to you like no other, and you still abandoned me. What does that say about your all-seeing eye?" You pound the bench, the pain echoing there, reminding you where and what you're doing. The reminder causes you to snort. <<include "1.04.1M">>
The idea of praying comes to mind, but then you are reminded of the countless times you have done so in the tower. How many times did you pray for some kind of sign to help guide you through the unyielding darkness? Instead, the silence only condemned you to it, and you found an odd form of companionship within it. Perhaps you will go down in history as the oddest phoenix to ever live. One who turns away from the light and embraces the dark. The one whose feathers embodied the ash has simply learned to live with it. <<include "1.04.1M">>
You stand. You have come this far on unanswered prayers. Strong and resilient. And curse or no curse, you will continue on this way. You turn to leave with newfound determination. Fuck a god. The sound of something cracking causes you to jerk around, and you watch as the statue's eyes glow a fiery red. The candles flare up, and a painful feeling blossoms in your abdomen. It travels through your body in all directions, causing your breathing to slow until every gasp for air feels like a mistake. You become overwhelmingly hot, and death feels like it is close by, waiting for you to fall to your knees. Gritting your teeth, you make your way to the door as if that was your salvation. <a data-passage="1.04.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You stumble out of the room, too caught up with your pain and fearing to notice the woman you collide with. You land on her, cringing, when you hear the conspicuous sound of fabric tearing. Abandoning the room does offer solace from the pain but has inevitably caused you to land in the lap of another problem. You fashion your mouth to utter an apology when your eyes meet hers. You have never seen someone possess two differently colored eyes; hers are such a stark difference that you forget what you are thinking. Such a lovely and alluring shade of pink, while her left eye is an iron-gray that retains every inch of sharpness. "Pardon me," you finally utter, but she seems to have forgotten your presence as she examines the clear rip in her dress. "No," she whimpers, "as if my day has not been hard enough." You move away, and she again remembers the cause of her woes. "Look at what you've done." [[“Is there anything I can do?”|M1.04AnythingICanDo][$loner -=5]] [[“My apologies.”|M1.04Apologies][$mouthy -=5]] [[“It's just a dress.”|M1.04JustADress][$mouthy +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Social ++</span><</if>> "Oh, that's bad," you mumble as the two of you look at the rip, "perhaps there's something I can do to help?" "You must be a fine seamstress?" "No." "A decent tailor?" "No." She growls out her answer, "then what makes you think there is anything you can do to help me?" Getting to her feet, she straightens herself up and continues to analyze it. "And it is such a noticeable one. His lordship will not be able to overlook this and what then. What will I do when -" She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths. When she reopens them, it's as if another person stands before you. The panicked young woman is replaced by one of complete composure. "If you will excuse me, I must be going." She walks off with nothing less than dignity, and you find yourself trying to figure out how an individual can switch as quickly as she did. <<include "1.04.3M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> "My apologies. I didn't see you." "I don't need your excuses," she mumbles, carefully getting to her feet to better look at the rip. "I must go in front of his lordship like this?" She deflates even further, "not to mention that this was a gift from him. What will he say …" She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths. When she reopens them, it's as if another person stands before you. The panicked young woman is replaced by one of complete composure. "I was rude. Thank you for your apology. If you will excuse me, I must be going." She walks off with nothing less than dignity, and you find yourself trying to figure out how an individual can switch as quickly as she did. <<include "1.04.3M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> "It's just a dress. Easily fixed." Her ire turns to you. "It's just a dress? From what simple countryside have you come from that anything is 'just' and 'easily fixed.' Even the newest servants understand the gravity of something like this." You raise a brow, glancing from her to the tear, "the gravity of a tear? I'm sure you have a dozen other dresses. Change if the problem weighs so much on your shoulders." "Or perhaps you can watch where you're going," she hisses, taking a deep breath. Her demeanor seems to change, from how she carries herself to the look infiltrating her eyes. "My apologies," she says with an even tone, "now, if you'll excuse me, I am late." She walks off with nothing less than dignity, and you find yourself trying to figure out how an individual can switch as quickly as she did. <<include "1.04.3M">>
Only when she disappears, do you switch your attention to yourself, frowning at the ground and then at the door behind you. The pain has subsided, but you have a feeling it will return. If anything Moon said is correct, then only she will hold the answers, but you have no idea how to contact her. As far as you know, no temples of hers exist in the territories. There is a chance that the pact the two of you made has become null and void due to the curse set upon you. If that is true, then you are simply waiting to die, and judging by the previous surge of pain, it will not be long. <a data-passage="1.04.4M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Not wishing to return to the room, your curiosity takes you to a different wing of the palace and inside a large-domed greenhouse. Colorful birds and insects fly about, some escaping through a hole in the very top, but many choose to just exist amongst the foliage. You sit and watch them, slowly realizing that for the first time in more than a decade, you were watching the spirit of nature right before you. Creatures in their habitat growing and existing with such little care that it almost feels foreign to you. You are far too used to watching nature struggle. The flowers in the mountains fight every chance they can. The falling of one petal due to harsh winds can mean the end of the specimen as a whole. The rare bird sighting was short-lived, and the snow and wintry winds soon brought regret when they did stay longer. It is beautiful yet odd. A strange thing to find yourself missing. You were those flowers and those scarcely seen birds. Their fight was your fight, and you had grown used to it. This was once your home, and though you know that as a fact, the reminder simply feels misplaced. There has been a feeling nagging at your senses, unrelated to this curse and the deaths of all of those you once knew, including your own. It has no relation to Moon and her words, so you struggled to put words to it and properly label it. But now you know. That feeling is one you have felt only two other times. It first overcame you when you were taken to the tower and then again when you were ostracized by your peers. And now, you feel it again. The feeling of not belonging. Of being someplace you have no business being. <a data-passage="1.04.5M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You have found the gardens, I see." You move only your eyes to see who has intruded on time meant solely for you. The man who regards himself as your father stands there, focusing on a bright, blossoming plant. "And you have found me." "Not on purpose. I will sometimes walk these paths when I need to think. I had not expected you to be here. I'm even more shocked to see you awake." "Why?" "You have been sleeping for some time. Two days, in fact." He takes a seat next to you. [[Move farther away.|M1.04Move]] [[Stay where you are.|M1.04Stay]]
You move to the far end of the seat, not bothering to look at him, for you do not care if the action hurts him or not. "<span class="voice">And why should you?</span>" the Voice questions curiously, "<span class="voice">do you think he cared if his actions hurt your feelings? When he closed that carriage door and waved good riddance, how many tears do you think graced his face? You should ask. Compare.</span>" <<include "1.04.6M">>
Did you not wish for him to think his presence bothered you? Or maybe you wanted to physically show that you had been here first and had no intention of moving. "<span class="voice">Or maybe you missed your dear old father,</span>" the Voice hisses. "<span class="voice">The same father who sent you away and has been living pleasantly for decades while you suffered in the cold. Ask him does his feathers turn to ash when he shifts, or do they glimmer like how a royal's feathers should.</span>" <<include "1.04.6M">>
You do not ask that. You ask nothing, choosing to remain quiet. "There is much I would like to say to you," he whispers, "but I am not sure how." You feel his eyes travel to you, perhaps hoping for you to give him some kind of indication. He chuckles, "the last time I saw you, you were but a child. Running around without a care and calling my name to help you defeat monsters that lived deep beneath your bed. Or having me act as a night light due to your fear of the darkness." "I'm not afraid of the dark," you blurt, frowning as not even you understand why you chose to finally speak and why that was the words of choice. "Yes," he trails off, "I'm sure there are very few things you are afraid of now." "Now ask me who helped get over those things," you continue. "Ask me who stood by my side and held my hand while facing countless fears." "$name." "Ask me." He flinches, sadness overflowing as he gazes over at you with eyes beginning to water, "who?" "Me. No one but me. I faced that darkness alone." <a data-passage="1.04.7M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"<span class="voice">It's far better to get such emotions off your chest,</span>" the Voice whispers in your ear in an almost melodic tone, "<span class="voice">was he not your father? Was he not supposed to protect you? Where was he?</span>" "Where were you?" you shout, getting to your feet, "every tear that ran down my face, and scream for help. Where were you when your child was lying broken?" "$name -" "Stop saying my name as if that will change any of this. As if that erases years and years of pain." He hangs his head in shame and you barely hear him say the words, "I'm sorry." [[“The weak normally are.”|M1.04Weak][$family -=3; $voice -=3]] [[“I am too.”|M1.04AmToo][$family +=3; $voice +=3]] [[Leave.|M1.04Leave]]
"Yes," you sigh, walking towards the exit, "the weak normally are." "<span class="voice">You would know would you not?</span>" the Voice chimes in, "<span class="voice">how many times have you apologized to the Watchers? You would beg for their forgiveness and cower in your room once you failed to receive it.</span>" You remain quiet and continue on. <<include "1.05M">>
"I am too," you mumble, making your way towards the exit. "<span class="voice">You are too harsh. Go back. Coddle him,</span>" the Voice speaks in a whiny voice, releasing a dark chuckle soon after, "<span class="voice">is that not what you will say to yourself later tonight? Beating yourself up while he sleeps soundly?</span>" "Stop speaking as if you know what everyone will do." "<span class="voice">You are right. I only know what you will do and you will suffer as always.</span>" <<include "1.05M">>
Saying nothing in response to his murmured apology, you leave. What can you say that will soothe both you and him? You are not ready to hear whatever he has to say concerning your injury. And you doubt he has any wish to listen to all of the issues you faced throughout your stay in the tower. "<span class="voice">The first wise thing you have done,</span>" the Voice tells you, a hint of pride in its tone, "<span class="voice">perhaps you are getting smarter. Or maybe this is simply just luck. I suppose we shall see.</span>" <<include "1.05M">>
You return to your room with the intention of staying up and exploring the contents of the room further. But this fails to happen as soon as you sit on the bed; sleep soon overcomes you. The next few days are slow and filled with you hardly seeing anyone save for a servant and your parents. At least when the servant comes, you find their presence minor and aiding. They come by to deliver food, check on you, and tell you when a bath has been drawn. The treatment is odd, and more often than not, you have to convey to the servants that you'd rather bathe on your own. With each visit from your parents, they attempt to get closer to you, but the wall you have built is sturdy, and they soon find out how unpenetrable it really is. [[You speak but only so much.|M1.05Speak][$family +=5]] [[You remain quiet in their presence.|M1.05Quiet][$family -=5]]
They do most of the talking with you, only adding a few words here and there. There is not much you have to say to them, and even less that you expect or wish for them. In truth, you are more focused on your own predicament than whatever they say. <<include "1.05.1M">>
Whenever they come by, they do all the talking. It's a cycle they have yet to figure out in the three days that you have been in their presence. They speak, you sit silently, they continue on, and then they go. Most of what they say you care little to nothing for. Their feelings and how happy they are that you returned. How worried they are and how excited everyone is to finally see you. This is an excitement that you do not share, and they can tell. <<include "1.05.1M">>
One of these days, you'll question what happened when they sent you away. But for now, you much rather focus on the numerous things that have befallen you and what may still. A knock at the door grabs your attention, and you remain silent as the servant enters, bowing as they usually do. In their hands is a pile of clothes, and as they lay them out, you notice the quality of each. "What's this?" "A meeting is about to begin, and your presence is requested." "Tell them I am asleep." "They told me to wake you if that was the case. This discussion is far too important, Your Highness." You frown, gazing back over at the clothing items. "And this?" "All appropriate clothing options." You pick up the first and second, letting your hand grace the satin texture you are nowhere near as familiar with. You are much more used to the thick and itchy feeling of wool against your skin, whereas this feeling is far more smooth and even soft as it glides over your fingers. "Satin," the servant tells you, "typically what all our clothes are made of. The salong." They point to the pants outfit, then to the long skirt, "and then sinh. The style and colors are all taken from their respective regions and combined in a common central style." <a data-passage="1.05.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
They give you a minute to continue your examination, "do you wish for me to help you dress?" "No," you grumble, shooing them out of the room and closing the door. "<span class="voice">One wonders if it is simply due to their belief that you are incompetent that they continue to ask the same thing,</span>" the Voice ponders. "I can get dressed on my own just fine." "<span class="voice">Ah, then it is simply your refusal to respect tradition.</span>" [[Wear your own clothes.|M1.05OwnClothes]] [[Wear the salong outfit.|M1.05Salong]] [[Wear the sinh outfit.|M1.05Sinh]]
The material is foreign and far too odd for you to feel comfortable wearing. You have simply been wearing the same clothes you had escaped the tower in the past few days. You had packed a change of clothes, and you much rather wear that instead of the clothes lying before you. With your mind made up, you change out of what you're wearing for the spare set and then walk outside, finding the servant beside your door. They stare at your outfit, and whether it is simply not their place or because they don't have the energy, they decide against arguing. <<include "1.05.3M">>
You take a closer look at the clothing, admiring the feel as well as the vivid coloring. The pant portion is a dark coloring, and the button-up top is a mix of the same gold, red, and oranges. The patterns resting upon the shirt are not ones you can easily decipher, so you move on, touching the jeweled tassel and sash that accompanies the outfit. You put the clothes on carefully, mentally remarking how odd it feels against your skin. In a way, you don't even feel like you're wearing clothes. It is so lightweight compared to the thicker and scratchier wool you donned in the tower. <<include "1.05.3M">>
You take a closer look at the clothing, admiring the feel as well as the vivid coloring. The main part was a beautifully patterned dark blue and gold dress with red trimmings. While the sash abandons the dark blue and is mainly red and gold. You can't easily describe or name the patterns, so you move on, touching the jeweled tassel that accompanies the outfit. You put the clothes on carefully, mentally remarking how odd it feels against your skin. In a way, you don't even feel like you're wearing clothes. It is so lightweight compared to the thicker and scratchier wool you donned in the tower. <<include "1.05.3M">>
"Follow me." The two of you come to a long narrow hallway where a few people stand around chatting. Many of them dress in the clothes the servant had brought you. Some in more toned-down colors that remind you of the ocean, while others showcase colors so bold that they rival the brilliance of even the sun. Despite the difference in outfits and accessories, they all manage to look like they are of one people. "Continue in," the servant tells you, stopping at the doors, "you will see your parents in the very front, do not go to them. Instead, go to the first row." They leave your side after that, and finding nothing better to do, you push open the doors and expose yourself to a well-lit room. At first, you believe it to be the throne room, but there is no throne. Only a raised dais with three people sitting on the first row and two behind them, those two being your parents. Your brain fights for a memory of this place, but you come up with nothing. <a data-passage="1.05.4M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" Turning, you look for whoever called your name, and a familiar face appears. "Nour?" you question, picking up your pace as you approach the figure you have known since childhood. Being in front of him suddenly takes you back to the days when you simply existed. Everything made sense, causing your current problems to appear more like a nightmare. Back then, your only worries revolved around making it to lessons on time and returning home before the moon could grace the sky. "It is good to see you, my old friend," Nour remarks, the largest smile on his face as he looks you over. He shakes his head in disbelief, and you can't honestly blame him. The last time you saw him, he was nothing but a short and shy kid whose tail fidgeted as much as the wind blew. "I only wish it was under better circumstances." You take him in, admiring the formal clothing he now dons as well as how he holds himself. "You look so different. You've even cut your hair." "Ah," he laughs, combing a hand through it, "it got in the way whenever I scrimmaged with others." "Is Xeno still your guardian?" "Indeed. Though I doubt you will recognize him." "Yet another thing that has changed," you grumble. <a data-passage="1.05.5M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"That's not all that's different. I have decided to become kěěb and now use words such as they and them." You bow your head, frowning not because of their words but because the realization that you have tried to keep at bay sets in. This place did not freeze in time. It kept going. And all those who once existed in your life kept living theirs. Same as you. The idea that there was once a time when your path and so many others converged and joined now lay separate, miles away from each other. They call this your home, but you have yet to let your guard down. The slightest noise wakens you, and there are times when you turn your back to the sun and seek out colder and darker areas. Who are you? "Well then," a voice shouts, causing the room to grow quiet. Nour, still by your side, flinches and looks towards the man that greatly resembles them. The man continues, "since we are all in attendance. Let us skip all the pleasantries and get right to the reason we are here." He turns and points to you, "I want to see our deal adhered to. $name $surname will marry my child, Nouritis, and join House Griffin and Phoenix." <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Opportunity"><img src="images/makaio_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Opportunity" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<set $visit to 0>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "dark" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>> "$name will marry my child, Nouritis, and join House Griffin and Phoenix." "Must I remind you that your son -" your father begins, but Nour's father interrupts him. "My child." A sudden intake of breath causes you to glance over at Nour, just in time to see them roll their eyes before sparing you a look of remorse. Nodding his head in understanding, your father repeats his sentence, "your son did not save $name. You have no further claim to my ?daughter's hand." "Don't I? We had agreed that our two children would be wed since childhood." "Such a union became void when $name went missing," your mother expresses, shooting up from her seat as she stares Nour's father down, "if you had cared so much about said agreement, then you should have joined the many troops that have gone out in search for ?her." "Forgive me," he says mockingly, placing a hand over his heart, "you're right. And I'll shun my duties to my people in the process." "Father, that is enough," Nour shouts, leaving your side as they approach the head of the room, "you are making a mockery of us and our house." "And you will stay in your place until the day comes when I answer to you," their father tells them. Though his words express his aversion to letting such a matter go, his suppressed actions say that he at least heard and heeded his child's words. "Then what will you do?" he questions, turning his attention back to your parents, "will you gift ?her to the birds that rock your heavens? The same great birds that your ancestors went to war and won against? Or will that honor fall to the muted snakes slinking across the jungle floor? No, I will not accept that. And I am not too shy to place proscriptions on your goods and bar you from our hub." The crowd whispers harshly to one another, and as you glance at Nour, you see them trembling. You no longer know them; that much is true. But if they are anything like the child you grew up with, then you know that they are biting down on their tongue to keep from speaking. [[“I'm right here.”|M2.00RightHere]] [[“I will be gifted to no one.”|M2.00GiftedToNone]] [[Try to get your parents attention.|M2.00ParentsAttention]] [[Stay silent.|2.01M]]
"You all speak as if I am not standing right here," you scream, the entire room growing silent as you surmise that all eyes turn to follow your movements. You march to the front, where your parents sit alongside faces that are mere strangers. Their eyes convey their wish for you to keep quiet as they portray silent promises to answer your questions later. But you refuse. "Do I not get a say in what my future holds?" You turn to look at Nour's father, "or must I rest my life, yet again, in that of those who know nothing of me." He opens his mouth, but your rage has yet to be quenched, "I speak with my own voice. You are all strangers!" You feel hands settle on your shoulders <<if $notouchy>>and jump away, fear evident in your eyes until you see an apologetic Nour standing there.<<else>>turning to see Nour standing there.<</if>> "Be careful," they whisper close to your ear. They don't explain why you must take such caution, but the sudden understanding that an entire room is now gazing upon you causes you to shrink. "<span class="voice">Prove to them just how uncultured you are. Screaming of things you know so little about. You are the sweetest treat for gossip.</span>" the Voice chuckles in your mind, causing you to feel even smaller than before. "If that interruption has been settled," Nour's father states, clearing his throat, "who then?" <a data-passage="2.01M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You all make the mistake of believing that I am to be gifted to anyone. I speak for myself." "$name," your father sighs, but you hiss in disapproval. "No. There is nothing more to be said than an apology for entertaining this thought. I know none of you, yet you all believe you can –" You feel hands settle on your shoulders <<if $notouchy>>and jump away, fear evident in your eyes until you see an apologetic Nour standing there.<<else>>turning to see Nour standing there.<</if>> "Be careful," they whisper close to your ear. They don't explain why you must take such caution, but the sudden understanding that an entire room is now gazing upon you causes you to shrink. "<span class="voice">Prove to them just how uncultured you are. Screaming of things you know so little about. You are the sweetest treat for gossip.</span>" the Voice chuckles in your mind, causing you to feel even smaller than before. "If that interruption has been settled," Nour's father states, clearing his throat. "So, who then?" <a data-passage="2.01M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The wish to disagree verbally with what is going on is small. But the want to remind those speaking about you that you are present remains. "<span class="voice">What will you do then? Will you embarrass yourself to those in attendance by voicing your complaints? A mouse screeching to be heard amongst eagles?</span>" The Voice chuckles so hard that you believe it will choke on its spit, if such a thing is even a possibility. "<span class="voice">My apologies, a mouse amongst phoenixes.</span>" No, you think to yourself, you are not so audacious. Instead, you shift in hopes that your parents will notice the movement. When they fail to, you make your way towards the front, each footstep measured as you feel a thousand eyes follow you. You feel like freezing up but continue. Why does it feel like the entire room has suddenly grown far too hot? And why would such a thing bother you? Yes, it is true that you are used to the chill of the mountains, but you are a phoenix nonetheless. And a phoenix //is// fire. Thankfully, your father notices your movements, and you try to convey how you feel about all that is being spoken through glances alone. His eyes watch you for a time before drifting back to Nour's father. You brace before the Voice can mutter out a chortle, already knowing what it will say. But it remains quiet, and you go ignored … ignored by all. <a data-passage="2.01M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You threaten us with war," your mother begins, "but the other houses will say the same if we allow what you wish to happen. Only they will not give us a warning; they will simply act." The sound of someone clearing their throat causes you to pause and turn. The beautiful young lady you had run into the other day makes her approach. She holds herself as if she is the only royal in the room, the lone voice that ever needed listening to. Her shoulders are stiff, and her head held high as she approaches. Even her bow feels rehearsed and perfect. Her long obsidian hair is pulled into a thick circular bun, held up by a metallic appearing feather with gems residing on both sides of the rachis. "If the council will allow me to speak." "You have the floor, Makaio," your father grants with a nod. "The letter sent out to each house specifically declared that the house that brings back the heir will be the one who gains their hand. So why not give ?her_ hand then to House Phoenix?" "Because there is no one of station left." "Then I humbly ask for $surname's hand." The entire room buzzes in what feels like a mix of excitement and consternation. Some seem to eagerly anticipate what will be said next, while others wish to stand and lend their voice to a conversation that hardly has anything to do with them. Your mother and father turn to one another, whispering something before including the man and woman sitting up there alongside them. You shiver from the rage shooting through you. Yet again, strangers make decisions that should be yours. Will no one listen to you? Will no one stop and hear you?! They turn to render their thoughts when yet another voice pipes up, a young man who seems neither older nor younger than you. He is extremely pale, but such a shade goes remarkably well against the bold coloring of the clothing he dons. The silk fabric shifts with every step he takes, and each is one of demand and authority. His footsteps echo against the wooden beams underneath and seem to command those in attendance to stare in awe and respect. <a data-passage="2.01.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I challenge that." "Adachi, sit," the man near your father warns, but the man, Adachi, ignores him. "This entire proceeding has turned into a farce, so why not remind everyone why they are here since it is being glossed over." He glances over at you. "I, like so many others, am glad to see my cousin back amongst us, but that does not change the fact that ?she <<verb 'is'>> in no state to rule." Your cousin. You push away your surroundings and attempt to put a name to a face and that to memory. But nothing appears. Something tells you that this man is not a complete stranger, but nothing about him radiates familiarity either. "The only thing my cousin can inform us about is how to survive in the cold," he pauses, "and even that may need to be questioned." The crowd laughs, but you stiffen as you narrow your eyes on the man that continues to speak. There is no denying that he can woo a crowd; either that or they simply adore him in a way where they see him speak but do not truly hear him. Every word sees the public growing in volume, agreeing and nodding. You are still attempting to wrap your mind around why your thoughts do not matter. It is not silly to believe this entire thing is strange? You are from here but not //of// here. Their customs and inner workings are as foreign as the dragons or basilisks. Yet here they sit, planning your future. "<span class="voice">Is it not obvious why? No one cares what you think and want. They do not trust one so stupid to know right from wrong,</span>" the Voice laughs, "<span class="voice">now, be a good little phoenix and do what they say.</span>" Adachi continues, "I, on the other hand, have trained for this since $name took ?her_ leave. I alone have asked and courted Makaio. And I alone know what it takes to put House Phoenix back on track and back to our rightful place." <a data-passage="2.01.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"What are you seeking to invoke, exactly?" one of the women that has not yet spoken questions. "I invoke the Right of Claiming," he turns to the crowd as if an actor in a great performance, "if any of the royal family seeks to rest a claim against the next in line, they have the right to challenge. Thus the decision is put to a vote, including those they will serve and the council. Seeing that neither I nor my cousin is married, the next in line will gain Makaio's hand." The council is quiet, exchanging looks but little else. Your father's eyes shift to you. "$name, do you accept this?" Suddenly, the eyes of the entire court rest on you. Some look attention-starved, pleading for you to say yes, if only to watch the show unfold. Others look at you in disgust, your mind repeatedly swatting away the reasons for why that may be. None look at you with any amount of hope and reassurance, though. They simply wish to use you, or they wish you never returned. "<span class="voice">You will never escape this, $name,</span>" the Voice tells you, a light chuckle following soon after, "<span class="voice">you will forever and always be the one that carried so much potential, only to squander it because you are unfit and weak. They know it. Some only wish to see you embarrass yourself.</span>" [[You don't want this.|M2.01Dont]] [[You don't know what you want.|M2.01DontKnow]] [[You want this.|M2.01WantThis]]
You didn't ask for any of this, nor do you want it. It all sounds like a burden placed on you only because of who you call mother and father. You have far more pressing matters to deal with. Additionally, your cousin, Adachi, is correct. What valid claim besides birthright do you have on the throne? Your lessons had not yet started when you were taken, whereas Adachi has been studying for this since then. No, this is not what you want. <<include "2.01.3M">>
A week ago, you had been in a tower surrounded by ice and mountains. You had no duties. Now, you stand amongst a group of people who hardly see you as one of them, let alone someone with the right and knowledge to rule over them. <<include "2.01.3M">>
The question is why. The Voice's words echo in your head, as well as the things they have said about you in the past. Do you like to torture yourself? Is there some sick amusement you find in placing yourself in positions that will deliver a quick embarrassment? //Selfish//. That word returns, and you must silently contemplate if that is exactly what you are. Selfish in wanting others to recognize you as someone to respect and adore. Selfish in wanting others to face their farcical beliefs and bias. <<include "2.01.3M">>
"I implore you to say yes," Makaio whispers to you harshly. The nearness of her voice causes you to jump away, not realizing that she has come to your side. Nour is also there, "from the little I know of these things; I do so as well." "But -" you start, and Nour shakes their head. "I have no right, but trust me. I will talk to you later about why. For now, agree to the claim and its mores." Gazing between the two, your eyes finally leave them to meet that of your father, who waits patiently for your answer. "I accept." <<if hasVisited("You want this.")>>You have already told yourself that this is something you want, but is it something that you can handle? Despite what you may want, Adachi has brought up an excellent point. You are neither trained nor ready for what this duty calls for.<<else>>The words feel foreign and burdensome on your tongue. As if another has placed the short sentence in your mouth and forced you to speak them. Though you know in a literal sense this did not happen, it still feels like it has.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.01.4M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Then it is decided," your father announces, "a vote will be had at the end of this year to determine who the next ruler will be. And in extension," he nods to Makaio, "who Lady Sisou will then marry. This assembly is now adjourned." With that, everyone gets to their feet. While some immediately head towards the exit, a few stay where they are and speak to those nearby, no doubt going over the events and revelations. Makaio and Nour turn to you, but your cousin appears before they can get a word in. "Heir Nouritis Gryps, it's a pleasure to see you again." "Same," they seem to doubt what they're about to say but, with a sigh, continue, "Prince Adachi. I wish you luck with the challenge you have set in place." "Luck is hardly required," he laughs, "I wish to speak to my dear cousin about that very thing, if you don't mind." Nour bows their head, leaning in to whisper, "we will speak later." Makaio turns to go as well, but Adachi grabs her arm, "and the two of us will surely talk about this later." If any part of her is frightened by what will come, she shows no hint. Instead, she gives him a formal nod, "as you wish." He releases her, and you find yourself alone with a cousin you hardly remember. "I apologize that our reunion has been ruined by pomp and circumstance, but you must understand my need to have done such a thing." [[“Hardly.”|M2.01Hardly]] [[“What do you want?”|M2.01WhatYouWant]] [[“Not much of a reunion.”|M2.01MuchOfAReunion]]
"Hardly. If you haven't noticed, I'm still trying to grasp that I'm here. Now, I must also try to figure out why you seem to have it out for me." He lets out a jovial laugh that causes you to bristle. It reminds you of those back in the tower and how they reacted to your presence once they alienated you from their circles. "Have it out for you? No. I simply detest those who think they can come in and try to take what is mine. I have been training for this power shift, and because you were found, suddenly, that is no longer the case for some. You are noble only in name now. You are not suited to lead." "It seems that is not your decision to make." "Indeed. You have little, if any, chance of winning this claim. Those who vote for you will do so out of a sense of obligation to the status quo. But even they will not help you." "You came over here to tell me that?" "I came here to warn you and perhaps plant a seed to help you see how much of a waste of time this is for both of us. It is up to you to decide whether you wish to nourish the bud." With that, he turns and walks away. <<include "2.02M">>
"Just tell me what you want." "I came here to warn you and perhaps plant a seed to help you see how much of a waste of time this is for both of us. It is up to you to decide whether you wish to nourish the bud." With that, he turns and walks away. <<include "2.02M">>
"It's not much of a reunion, if I am to be honest. I hardly remember you." "That does not surprise me. <<if $region is "Jaro" or $region is "Adero">>While you grew up in the <<if $region is "Jaro">>south<<else>>north<</if>>, I did so along the coast. We only saw each other when our parents sought to visit one another.<<else>>Though we grew up in the same area, our parents were not always around one another, different responsibilities and tasks, I suppose.<</if>>" "And were we close?" "Indeed." For the first time since you've seen him, a genuine smile graces his features, and a distant look enters his eye as you surmise that he reminisces on whatever memories your question invokes. "We were both energetic and troublesome when the situation called for it. Our parents always seemed reluctant to leave us alone." You nod, "but I can see that those times have changed." "Greatly," he answers, looking you over. "Once my partner in crime, I now find you to be a rival. And not one that I'm particularly fond of saying I have." You're about to question if you should feel insulted by his words, but he gives you no time for such an inquiry as he continues. "You have little, if any, chance of winning this claim. Those who vote for you will do so out of a sense of obligation to the status quo. But even they will not help you." "You came over here to tell me that?" "I came to warn you and perhaps plant a seed to help you see how much of a waste of time this is for both of us. It is up to you to decide whether you wish to nourish the bud." With that, he turns and walks away. <<include "2.02M">>
Your eyes follow him for a time before attempting to find where your parents may be. They have some explaining to do. It takes a while longer before you finally see them to the side, speaking to a crowd that looks like it will never lessen. You wait around for a while, but when you realize that they will not be free anytime soon, you go, leaving to seek answers from another duo that should be close. <a data-passage="2.02.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
As soon as you leave the large room, you feel the presence of someone behind you, hearing her before being able to turn and see her. "I apologize for what that may have looked like," Makaio tells you, Nour at her side. "A sudden surprise from people who believe they know better than me?" you question, keeping none of the animosity and impatience from your voice. She blinks before straightening, "I do not wish to correct you on everything you //think// you know. But most of those standing in that room //do// know better than you." "What she means to say," Nour interrupts, tossing Makaio a look, "is that we warned you to accept because of what Adachi may decide to do if he does win the throne." "Which is?" "At best, banish you. At worse, kill you." Your face contorts in horror, but Makaio speaks before you can voice the question. "Adachi will want to eliminate any resistance. He is nothing if not thorough. That represents you and those who may not be willing to follow him due to his claim. In the entirety of House Phoenix, the lineage has only shifted once, and it was due to death. We are an accepting people, but also very traditional and possessive." "And why do you care what happens to me?" Makaio looks taken back, even huffing at whatever your words are meant to delineate. "I do not know you, nor do I know what horrors you've seen, but I am not a fan of bloodshed for any reason. I admit that my offer does hold ulterior motives, but I would have advised you against it regardless." "And what are those ulterior motives?" She glances over at Nour, who seems oblivious to the expression they are now receiving. It takes a few more minutes, and them glancing between the two of you, to realize they are no longer welcome. "I shall take my leave," they snicker, nodding to Makaio and then turning to you, "I do hope we can catch up later." You nod, and they turn and leave. Makaio watches them go before clearing her throat. "My proposal is this. You win the vote, and we marry. This will keep the status quo and the peace, and the two of us will be free to do as we please." [[“Free to do as we please?”|M2.02FreeAsWePlease]] [[“How's the dress?”|M2.02HowsTheDress][$makaio +=3]] [[“You want me to marry you!?”|M2.02WantMeToMarryYou][$makaio -=3]] [[“Speak plainly, what do you want?”|M2.02SpeakPlainly][$makaio +=5]]
"Free to do as we please? What is that supposed to mean?" "That I may love whoever I wish, and you may do the same. We simply must look the part for those who may look on. Do I have your cooperation in this matter?" <<include "2.02.2M">>
"How's the dress?" She opens her mouth to speak before closing it, "what?" It takes a few more seconds for her to figure out what you refer to, and once she does, her cheeks heat up. "I did not know who you were. And at the moment, I had little care." "That much was obvious." "Do you agree to my proposal or not?" she asks, a hint of frustration in her voice. It seems she is not fond of you bringing up an embarrassing moment of her. <<include "2.02.2M">>
"You want me to marry you?" She scoffs, a large frown pervading her face, "may I ask what is so horrible about the idea?" "Let's start with how I barely know you." "A sentiment we both share," she mumbles, "but that matters little with marriages of convenience. Do you agree or not?" <<include "2.02.2M">>
You roll your eyes, "speak plainly. What do you want?" "I want to be free of your cousin's hold on me and my life," she growls, taking you by surprise. "I want to be able to do as I wish without his constant belief that he owns me!" "And you can't refuse him?" "Look," the breath she takes is one to focus her thoughts and calm her spirit. Her mouth opens, but then she closes it a moment later, her brow furrowing as she looks you over. "You have asked me to speak plainly to you, and I have. I will ask that you do the same for me. Do you agree or not?" <<include "2.02.2M">>
"I do not want to be dragged into your issues and this place's politics. I have bigger things to keep me up at night." She stares at you, not blankly or even in confusion. It is a blank look that feels far more like she is just now seeing you and realizing who stands before her. "I have been inconsiderably rude," she performs a curtsy, "I am Makaio Sisou, child of - [[Let her continue.|M2.02LetHerContinue][$mouthy -=5]] [[“I don't care.”|M2.02IDC][$mouthy +=5]] [[“The answer is still no.”|M2.02AnswerStillNo][$mouthy +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> "I am Makaio Sisou, child of Alantre and Dinva Sisou. We hail and watch over a highly sizeable coastal city you may remember, Silvertip." "I don't," you honestly say to her, "and it doesn't matter. I stand firm on what I said previously." <<include "2.02.3M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> You roll your eyes and grimace, "I don't care. The same way I don't care about you or this place and those within it." <<include "2.02.3M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> You hold up a hand, and surprisingly, she goes silent. "I understand what you're trying to do, but the answer is still no. Pleasantries won't change that." <<include "2.02.3M">>
"If you do not agree, then you will have yet another thing to keep you up." Makaio sighs, taking deep breaths before straightening as if realizing she is not carrying herself as she should. "Sleep on what I have said. Think it over and make up your mind. But please, think over what I have said. You may not think this place can be your home, but it has the potential too." She turns and leaves before pausing and glancing back at you, "also, it is good to have you back, ?Princess $name." This time she bows before departing. Her absence brings forth a headache that seems to have waited politely for you to be alone before emerging. You lean on a nearby wall, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Whether this is whatever sickness has claimed you or stress from all that has happened … well, it matters little. Either way, you wish to sit. You begin the action when you pause upon hearing a guard clearing their throat. They give you an understanding look before cocking their head toward a group of attendants who have yet to notice you. So, this is what your days will now be filled with. Having to constantly worry about your every move in case those nearby will judge you. The thought alone is tiring. <a data-passage="2.03M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Gathering yourself and your thoughts, you leave the area, focused on roaming the area blindly until you feel a hand touch your shoulder. You're tense until you see Nour, though you are unsure if all of you truly relax at the sight of your old friend. "<span class="voice">Tell me what you know of them. Everything you thought you knew is no longer true.</span>" "Give me a minute," Nour smiles, chasing away the voice in your head as they take a step back and look you over. "Sun's Light, it's good to see you, $name." They move in to hug you<<if $notouchy>>, but you move a few steps back, simply shaking your head to dissuade the action.<<else>> and though you allow it, you are stiff the entire time. Yet again, the Voice's words ring through your ears.<</if>> <<if $notouchy>>\ "Oh, my apologies. I am far too excited." "It's fine. I just really don't like to be touched unprompted." They nod, "I suppose I'm not the only one who changed." <<else>>\ Though they don't seem to want to voice it, they realize that you're not returning the hug, so they stop short. They nervously laugh, sounding almost apologetic, "I suppose I'm not the only one who changed." <</if>>\ "Of course, I changed," you tell them, "did you expect differently?" "$name, I expected to never see you again. Having this conversation, no matter how many differences, is enough for me." You open your mouth, but they cut you off, glancing around before motioning for you to follow, "come on. Let us walk." You agree, but the longer you follow Nour through the palace, the more upset you grow. You know it is a petty thought, but having them be able to navigate your home far easier than you annoyingly jabs at a sensitive spot you are not sure you wish to unveil. You would be lost, but Nour seems at home here. <a data-passage="2.03.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"<span class="voice">I wonder how many times they roamed these halls after you went missing. Continued to see your parents and participate in a culture not their own. Do you believe your own people would much rather a griffin than a phoenix lead them?</span>" "How have you been, Nour?" you question, blurting the words to rid your thoughts of the Voice. It has only now dawned on you that you will no longer be able to silence it; Tyrae's magic is far from your grasp. Only one other time has the Voice ever gotten too loud to handle. Every instance saw it commenting, and at night it would ramble on incessantly. It haunted every moment, and you could do nothing but keep going. The fear of this happening again causes you to shiver. "<span class="voice">"Shiver?</span>" it questions, "<span class="voice">you should feel lucky. It is I who will never judge you. I who will see you through to the end. I who understand you more than even you know yourself. Know that the day I leave you is the day you will truly feel fear. The fear of -</span>" You mentally scream, your breathing growing rapid as you blink in an attempt to remember where you are. <a data-passage="2.03.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" Nour questions, cocking their head to the side and seeming ready to intercept a problem they know nothing about. "I'm fine," you tell them, "just taking everything you said in." "No need to apologize. All of this must be far too much." You nod, frowning as you ask, "so you truly believe Makaio's idea is best? Did she even explain it to you?" "That it will be one of pure convenience, yes. When Adachi pulled you aside, she spoke to me about it. She failed to tell me her reasoning and why she is so intent on it, but I recognize that this is not my business." "And there is no other way?" "There probably is, but at this exact moment, no. You're new here like we both said. It's wiser to follow Makaio's lead." "How well do you know her?" "More like I know //of// her. She's the only noble lady left and yet is the most adept. From what I heard, her parents did everything they could to keep her out of the courts until the last minute. When they did, most of the lower nobles were already paired off. The people her family are over speak nothing but good things; the people love them dearly." "<span class="voice">The same who are either wary or hate you.</span>" <a data-passage="2.03.3M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour continues, despite the words of the Voice, and you have to remind yourself that its words are exclusively for you, "the arrangement with her is wise." "Are you fine with our arrangement being dismissed?" "$name," they exclaim, a look of confusion appearing, "that arrangement was decided for us and when we were children at that. Neither of us is the same." [[“Are you saying you never wished too?”|M2.03NeverWished]] [[“You have become far more responsible.”|M2.03Responsible]] [[“I see.”|M2.03ISee]]
"Are you saying you never wished to be wed to me?" "Not at all. But I fear that if I speak my mind right now, I will make things far more complicated than we wish. Than it is now." "I am more than curious and open to hearing your reasoning." "I will not give it," they laugh, "but I do want you to know that no matter what, our friendship has not changed. I have never stopped caring for you." <<include "2.03.4M">>
"You have become far more responsible as well. The Nour I remember would have never said such words." "Oh," they sneer, "you give me far too much credit. I am still the Nour who is far too reckless and forces Xeno to age two times faster." "Speaking of him, where is he?" "Somewhere. While here, he is far more laxed about me being alone. Though I am sure that if I take a single step outside the palace, he will materialize." "Then yes, some things have stayed the same," you chuckle. "Our friendship is another thing left untouched. I have never stopped caring for you." <<include "2.03.4M">>
"I see," you say. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were upset by the news." Were you? [[It is yet another change.|M2.03NotFine][$lost +=5]] [[No, you are fine.|M2.03Fine][$lost -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Lost ++</span><</if>> "It may sound strange, but everything has changed, and though I do understand that a month can see great change, let alone fifteen years. Some things I wish were the same. Nothing is familiar." "Our friendship is. I have never stopped caring for you." <<include "2.03.4M">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Free ++</span><</if>> "No," you shrug, "I am fine, to a point. I am not upset about our arrangement ending, but I am upset that, yet again, something has been decided for me." "It's to save your life." "Yes, that seems to be the main excuse resting on everyone's lips. Yet, if you ask Adachi, it seems to be the decision that will endanger me. I just wish everyone would realize that even if I am not used to this, I am still the master of my own life." "I know what you mean. At the very least, I can say that if one thing has not changed, it's our friendship. I have never stopped caring for you." <<include "2.03.4M">>
"Then where were you?" They sigh, noticeably uncomfortable with the direction the conversation has gone. "Later. Let us keep the mood light." "<span class="voice">How lovely,</span>" the Voice chuckles darkly, "<span class="voice">your trauma is nothing to them. You disappeared and caused them mild discomfort. In fact, your return is perhaps worse. Why could you not have stayed away?</span>" [[“Keep the mood light?”|M2.03MoodLight][$mouthy +=5]] [[“Sure, sorry.”|M2.03Sorry]] [[Stay silent.|M2.03Silent][$mouthy -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> "Keep the mood light?" you repeat, taking a few steps back as you furrow your brow, "my apologies that the subject of me being kidnapped along with no one caring is such a depressing subject." "$name." "No, Nour. Speak your mind. Why would your explanation shift the mood? Is it because you learned that I had disappeared, and that was that. I was gone, and you had to move on." "Stop," they sigh, "just stop." "<span class="voice">You see. An inconvenience. Why, $name, you should be far more accommodating.</span>" "No," you growl, trying to control the anger that flares inside you, "tell me why it took fifteen years for me to be found." "?Princess $name," you turn away from Nour to see a man standing there. They glance from you to Nour, obviously feeling uncomfortable at having interjected. "Your father wishes to see you. He is in his study. Follow me." "Do I not have a choice?" you say, venom laced through your words. "$name," Nour starts but you jerk around to face them once again. "Stop saying my name." Shaking your head you march ahead, leaving both Nour and the guard behind you. The guard will catch up, you're sure. Especially seeing that you don't know the way to your father's study. A part of you wishes to go the opposite way, to run to a room that you don't feel is yours and to lock yourself away. "<span class="voice">Curious. You wish to now voluntarily do it but in the tower you refused. What changed, I wonder?</span>" <a data-passage="2.04M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Doing your best to silence the Voice, you nod at Nour and attempt to give them your best sympathetic smile, "sure. My apologies that I even brought it up." "$name -," they start but find themselves unable to finish as a man approaches. "?Princess $name." "Yes?" "Your father wishes to see you. He is in his study. Follow me." "<span class="voice">Puppet.</span>" At first, you think the words are said in your voice, but a few seconds later, you realize it is the Voice. But they are right. You have been called on by another master, and as your feet move, you wonder why you have not tried to cut your strings. "<span class="voice">A thought that I find myself wondering too.</span>" <a data-passage="2.04M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> Despite not giving you an answer, their reply is all the answer you need to know what they are thinking and why fifteen years of silence have passed by. You nod slowly, your chest hurting at the realization. "$name, please -," they start but find themselves unable to finish as a man approaches. "?Princess $name." "Yes?" "Your father wishes to see you. He is in his study. Follow me." "I shall see you at a later time. Hopefully soon." You give them a simple nod before following behind the guard. You are eager to get some answers but, at the same time, wish to just lay down somewhere and refuse to rise. Will you ever get used to this place's fast-paced and unusual way? The more you think about it, the more you can't exactly say that the dealings of House Phoenix are all that different than the towers. There, you became a social pariah, and here you are as well. You were forced to watch how you behaved every minute. Here you must do the same. If anything, you should feel comfortable. <a data-passage="2.04M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You travel down halls that have begun to all look alike, wondering how long it will take before you commit this place to memory. Perhaps someone can give you a proper tour one of these days instead of hoping that your memory will suddenly arise. The guard shows you to a closed door where another taller fellow stands. No part of him resembles the look of a phoenix, but you have little time to question his origins as he opens the door and motions for you to enter. You know this place but hardly. It tugs at a memory that refuses to unravel, and after a few more attempts, you leave it be. A large desk sits in an alcove and faces two rectangular tables. Lining the walls are identical bookshelves, some holding rows and rows of books while others are far more barren. Others hold strange objects that strike the imagination, as well as statues that are far less peculiar. Your father sits at the desk, his attention on a few stray pieces of parchment until you enter, and he catches sight of you. "Erastus," the guard greets, an informal greeting you note. "Thank you. $name, this is Saabiq, one of the two that rescued you that day." You glance over at the man in question and finally take a moment to take him in. He appears a bit older than you and is quite a large man, <<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>around the same height as you, but size wise he dwarfs you.<<else>>taller and far larger due to muscle size and definition.<</if>> His light tan skin is interrupted by a stripe of black that crosses over his face, reminding you of the Jaro markings but far thinner. Two things about his appearance scream of his foreignness, his slit-pupil eyes and the carved work of his ears. <a data-passage="2.04.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"He's a basilisk," your father tells you, catching sight of your bewildered expression "after he was exiled, he came to us for sanctuary." Saabiq bows but otherwise remains silent. "You must forgive him for his silence; basilisks are born deaf and can only hear with specialized equipment. And even when they do," your father looks at Saabiq, who releases a low chuckle. "And still odd." He nods to you, "pleasure to meet you, Your Highness." His voice is hoarse from lack of use, and you can see from how he carefully says each word that he would much rather stay quiet. "Is there a better way to speak with you?" "They have a language," your father answers, "but it is not easily learned, and you, at the moment, have far more important things to concern yourself with. I introduce the two of you because Saabiq will be your personal guard from this day forth. I trust him with my own life. I know he will serve you well." Saabiq nods, "long as I draw breath, I will ensure no harm comes." You give him a thankful nod before gazing back at your father, "can you leave us for a moment, Saabiq? I wish to speak with my father." He performs a bow and does as you ask. As soon as the door closes, you focus on your father, waiting to see if he will begin this conversation or if you must present it to him. <a data-passage="2.04.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You seek answers about what happened earlier." "I seek answers on a lot of things. You will have to be far more specific." "The council meeting." "You completely blindsided me. Am I to believe that you did that for my sake?" "No," he admits, much to your surprise. "Not telling you was unwise. But I fail to think of what would have changed even if we had told you." "Am I to make any decisions for myself while here?" <<if $mouthy >=50>>\ "$name," he sighs, "you are new -" "And that excuse is old. If I continue to let you all speak for me, then by the time this becomes routine, I will be stuck fulfilling wishes I never wanted any part of." <<else>>\ "$name," he sighs, "you are new to all this. There are some things you will need council and advice on." "This feels less like advice and council and more like I am allowing others to live my life." He nods, "I understand, and I will attempt to ask before ordering." You nod, though you're unsure if his attempt will do much. <</if>>\ "About Makaio and her proposition …" "You were wise to take it. I know Adachi, and though I'd like to think he would care for someone he calls family, I cannot truly say that he won't result to underhanded tactics to ensure you can no longer threaten his position." <a data-passage="2.04.3M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"So, I either die or play this silly game." "Death is an exaggeration. But it is not a silly game; quite the opposite. This is your birthright." "It hasn't been my birthright for fifteen years." "It has always been your birthright. Your disappearance did not change that." "My disappearance? You mean when you, my father, sent me away." "$name," he sighs, "it is not what you may believe. And truly not whatever your captors have told you." "Then you may find relief that I do not believe them any more than I believe you." He sits silently for a while, searching for something you refuse to give him. You can see his heart breaking in that gaze of his, his every fear manifested and now sitting before him. He finally asks, "what happened to you?" [[“I fell from the sky.”|M2.04FellFromSky][$family -=3]] [[“I was born to the wrong parents.”|M2.04BornToWrongParents][$family -=5]] [[“I don't know.”|M2.04IDK][$family +=5]] [[“Nothing.”|M2.04Nothing][$family +=2]] [[Do not answer.|M2.04SilenceRemains][$family +=2]]
"I fell from the sky," you tell him, "or do you forget?" "No," he answers, "even after the accident, you had hope and wonder." "Do not tell me what I was when you were the one that sent me away." "I did it for your own safety." "You did it because you no longer wished to look upon the broken phoenix that you had the displeasure of calling your child." "I respect that you have gone through things, and I wish to help however I can, but I do not, for one second, believe that you were the only one who went through years of pain. Like I am in the dark about you, you are in the dark about your mother and me. You have no clue the kind of suffering we have faced." <<include "2.04.4M">>
"I was born to the wrong parents," you tell him, your head raised in defiance. "Stop," he murmurs. "I was born to parents who had a particular child in mind, and when that child failed to meet their expectations, they sent ?her away." "Enough!" he roars, his fist pounding down on the desk and causing you to jump. A mix of grief and anger resides in his eyes before he closes them and studies the desk beneath him. "Enough, $name." Tears freely spill from his eyes as he looks you over, "what do you want me to say? Because I fear nothing I say will ever be enough for you to forgive our mistake." "It is funny how mistakes can cause so much pain, is it not?" <<include "2.04.4M">>
"I ..." you shake your head, "I don't know. But I know that neither of us will be happy. You want a child that will never return, and I want answers that will not change anything." "I have the child I want sitting in front of me." "No," you correct, "you think you do. But you don't truly. Because the child in front of you is a stranger, you do not know them." <<include "2.04.4M">>
"Nothing," you shrug, wishing to change the conversation though finding no suitable alternatives. "Something did, and you keeping it to yourself will get neither of us anywhere." "Then simply say that you wish for an excuse, not that there must be one." <<include "2.04.4M">>
You remain silent, gazing over the parchments lying on his desk and the many books that seem untouched. When is the last time you read a book? There were many of them back in the tower, but their topics disinterested you. The few that didn't, you read swiftly, probably even multiple times. "Do not ignore me, $name. Answer me, what happened, and what must be done to fix it?" "You are under the impression that something needs fixing." "I am under the impression that idleness will not breed progress." <<include "2.04.4M">>
You're reasonably sure you no longer wish to continue this conversation, so you rise and turn to go. "Is this how every interaction will be between us? A chasm? Because I truly wish to learn more about the person before me." You don't have an answer, not with everything going on. And so you leave. <a data-passage="2.05M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
As soon as the door closes, you see Saabiq, who has no reaction to your presence. It isn't until you enter his field of view that he acknowledges you, giving you a single nod and fiddling with something in his ear. "Where to, ?Princess?" You are reminded of what your father said about Saabiq earlier; he helped rescue you. Perhaps he is the acolyte, or at least he knows where to find whoever is. "Are you a follower of Moon?" He shakes his head, "basilisks pray to another goddess." "Then the other person who aided you must be. Do you know where they are? Can I speak with them?" "Yes, but …" he drifts off, his eyes falling to the wayside as he goes over your request. "Just a few minutes, that's all I need. But I need an explanation. A lot depends on it." He nods, a surprising action since you had been prepared for him to question you further on what you needed to do. "We can go and visit. But I warn you to be careful." "Are they dangerous?" He pauses and seems to think over your words, neither confirming nor denying the question as he says, "simply be careful. Village is no friend of yours." Though you don't know why that would be the case, seeing that you have never met whoever you are about to visit, you are not surprised. Many people seem to not like you even though they have never taken the time to get to know you. With that, he leads the way out of the palace and down one of the main streets. You walk directly beside him as you head down a forest path. <a data-passage="2.05.1M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<set $visit to 0>> "We don't need mounts?" "Not a long walk," he scratches the side of his neck, "and I enjoy walks; my apologies." "No, it's fine," you hum, "I enjoy it as well, and I would probably fall off the mount and delay us." The walk turns quiet, and the few times you gaze at Saabiq, you realize he probably prefers it. Whether due to his inability to naturally hear or simply enjoying what nature offers. You can still hear the capital going about their day in the far-off distance, music and people shouting at others, and the sounds of someone building. The farther you get, the more nature replaces it with the croaking of frogs and the chirping of birds. You can hear a lake in the distance and that of a woodpecker from high above. You did not realize how much you missed all of this before. The Scorched Woods are popular for two things, the lava that pours from mountains forming lakes, and its striking bright color palette. Trees painted in shades of red, orange, and green all clash against one another to create a delightful sight for the eyes. And it isn't just the trees but the flora as well. Brilliant flowers spring forth from the ground, reminding you that Monsuna is indeed upon you. And that Smoten will be next. You shake the thought from a mind already heavy with grief and look to Saabiq, catching his attention. <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q1")>>“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”|M2.05Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q2")>>“Why were you exiled?”<<else>>[[“Why were you exiled?”|M2.05Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q3")>>“Can you teach me your language?”<<else>>[[“Can you teach me your language?”|M2.05Q3][$visit +=1; $saabiq_teach = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q4")>>“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”<<else>>[[“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”|M2.05Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>>
"Do you enjoy your time here, Saabiq?" "Are you asking if I would rather be amongst my own?" "Not exactly. I just wonder if House Phoenix is a place you could see yourself staying or if you are just biding your time." He glances at you but then quickly looks away as if embarrassed by whatever thought he just had. You are starting to learn that he is not one to hide his emotions if he even can. "It is fine. I like jungle, though I like my jungles more." He snorts, "can't jump into lakes here." "There are some lakes that are water-based." He laughs, and even you manage to let out a small chuckle. <<if $visit is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q2")>>“Why were you exiled?”<<else>>[[“Why were you exiled?”|M2.05Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q3")>>“Can you teach me your language?”<<else>>[[“Can you teach me your language?”|M2.05Q3][$visit +=1; $saabiq_teach = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q4")>>“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”<<else>>[[“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”|M2.05Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"Why were you exiled from House Basilisk?" He cocks his head to the side, a sadness in his eyes that causes you to pause and wonder what he must be thinking, "a misunderstanding. A lie." He shakes his head, "please, leave past in past." "My apologies for bringing up the memories." "No need," he smiles at you with a thankful nod, "but may I ask something." As he stops, you do as well, wondering what he will say as he looks you over. "Do not treat me as exotic pet. Many here do. Like a sword for show. I am not that." "You have nothing to worry about from me, Saabiq. I hope you don't mind my curiosity about your culture." A large smile appears, "no, no mind at all." <<if $visit is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q1")>>“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”|M2.05Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q3")>>“Can you teach me your language?”<<else>>[[“Can you teach me your language?”|M2.05Q3][$visit +=1; $saabiq_teach = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q4")>>“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”<<else>>[[“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”|M2.05Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Saabiq has agreed to teach you his language.<</notify>><</if>>\ "Can you teach me your language?" His brows furrow, "your father -" You cut him off with a shake of your head, "I know, and I don't care. Whether I'd like to learn something new should be my choice." There is no trace of doubt or wish to argue; he simply nods in agreement. "Wait. So you'll teach me? Just like that?" "I am your personal guard," he tells you, bowing his head, "I am yours to command." <<if $visit is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q1")>>“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”|M2.05Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q2")>>“Why were you exiled?”<<else>>[[“Why were you exiled?”|M2.05Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q4")>>“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”<<else>>[[“Do you know what happened to the phearn?”|M2.05Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"When you found me, there was a phearn with me. Do you know what happened to it?" "It is alive," he nods, "you should visit animal recovery area when you are free." You nod, adding that to your list of things to do. <<if $visit is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q1")>>“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“Do you enjoy House Phoenix?”|M2.05Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q2")>>“Why were you exiled?”<<else>>[[“Why were you exiled?”|M2.05Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("M2.05Q3")>>“Can you teach me your language?”<<else>>[[“Can you teach me your language?”|M2.05Q3][$visit +=1; $saabiq_teach = true]]<</if>> <</if>>\
He nods at the path that widens in the distance. From where you now stand, you can see the shape of a hut, "we are close. Come." The trek comes to an end as the trees part just enough to bring you to the entrance of a village that has been built with the landscape. It takes your breath away upon first sight. Just looking at how both nature and people have agreed to come together harmoniously. Some buildings are sitting free of the mountains, but their thatched roofs and wooden walls do little to make them look any less part of their surroundings. "Come, this way." Saabiq leads you up a set of stone stairs and towards a house nestled amongst the trees and near an easy-going stream. Saabiq performs a series of knocks on the door. "Enter, Saabiq," you hear a voice deeper within shout. Saabiq seems reluctant at first, gazing over at you before he sighs and pushes his way into the home. The inside matches the quaint feel of the outside and the estranged atmosphere that orbits the exterior. There's a messy yet well-kept order about the house. Books scattered across any surface they will fit, some even open with scribblings and pieces of paper with notes. But the way they are haphazardly placed shows that the owner cares for them and, if needed, would know exactly where to find each text. Herbs hang from the ceiling, drying, you notice after gingerly touching one. The light streaming through half-curtained windows gives off a warmth you can not explain. Back in the palace, the light feels like it's everywhere. Attempting to escape is foolish for a building that enhances it whenever possible. This house feels like it shies away from it but accepts it, nevertheless. You believe the house will come alive as the designer intended when night falls. "Why do you always knock? You know you can just -" The person speaking suddenly stops, their eyes resting on you. They bristle before throwing Saabiq a stern look that shifts into disbelief. <a data-passage="2.06M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
They perform a series of hand movements, and you watch as Saabiq responds in kind. Even though you don't understand anything they say, you know that the conversation is heated. The movements are rapid and feel abbreviated. Their movement is not the only thing that shows the displeasure of both parties; both do little to hide their facial expressions from you and only as the conversation furthers do they seem to both calm. "Fine!" the stranger shouts, their eyes closed before huffing. "?Princess $name, this is Pharos. They helped with rescue," Saabiq introduces. You gaze at them, and they glare at you, refusing to hide their overt disdain. [[“May I ask why you don't like me?”|M2.06DontLikeMe]] [[“Thank you.”|M2.06ThankYou]] [[“Nice to meet you.”|M2.06NiceToMeetYou]] [[Nod.|M2.06Nod]]
"It's clear that you do not like me very much, but I am at a loss for why that is." "I'd be happy to fill you in." They lean in, their smirk disappearing as a giant scowl takes its place, "I'm a thunderbird." You gulp. That indeed answers your question. Pharos straightens. Whether they're pleased with your recognition is unknown, the look of total disgust never wavers. <<include "2.06.1M">>
"Thank you for -" "Don't thank me," they growl. "You seem to have a problem with me that I'm not exactly sure about." "Let's see if you understand with this one sentence then." They lean in, their smirk disappearing as a giant scowl takes its place, "I'm a thunderbird." You gulp. That indeed answers your question. Pharos straightens. Whether they're pleased with your recognition is unknown, the look of total disgust never wavers. <<include "2.06.1M">>
"Nice to meet you, Pharos." "Is it? I feel like I will be forced to clean my house after you go." "Are you naturally this rude, or must I figure out what I somehow did to insult you?" "I'll help you out." They lean in, their smirk disappearing as a giant scowl takes its place, "I'm a thunderbird." You gulp. That indeed answers your question. Pharos straightens. Whether they're pleased with your recognition is unknown, the look of total disgust never wavers. <<include "2.06.1M">>
You nod as a greeting, unsure of what to say due to their hostility. Even the act of nodding seems to draw their anger. "What am I not good enough for you?" "I will answer once you tell me why you seem to hate me." "Sure," they lean in, their smirk disappearing as a giant scowl takes its place, "I'm a thunderbird." You gulp. That indeed answers your question. Pharos straightens. Whether they're pleased with your recognition is unknown, the look of total disgust never wavers. <<include "2.06.1M">>
"Then why did you rescue me?" "Superiors," they answer, dismissing your question as they turn and walk off. "My father then," you nod, but their snort tells you you're wrong. You wait for them to correct you, but they remain silent, assuring you that you will be left in the dark on this particular topic. <a data-passage="2.06.2M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Why are you even here?" Pharos questions, switching the conversation as they sit on a pillow. They flip through a book that rests close by before grabbing some parchment and taking notes on the surface of what looks to be a stump. "$name requires an explanation," Saabiq answers. You're not sure how their scowl can grow further, but it does just that, "require? An explanation about what?" "How you saved me. Are you the acolyte Moon spoke of?" Their frown remains but takes on a far more bewildered look than one of frustration, "you have seen Moon?" You nod, "she's the only reason I stand before you. She said that her acolyte saved me and unknowingly sent me to her. Seeing that only you and Saabiq were there and Saabiq has already openly confessed to not praying to her, I believed it to be you." "Well, of course, it was me." They nod at Saabiq, "does that man look like he knows anything about herbs and medicine?" The gesture that Saabiq offers Pharos is one you do not need a translator for. In fact, you may question him later on the true meaning simply to copy it. "I may need to get into contact with her again." <a data-passage="2.06.3M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Pharos says something under their breath before giving you an incredulous look, "do you believe that I have the ability to just whisk you to her land? The fact that you ended up there last time was an accident and a byproduct of me working with herbs that I knew. Herbs that do not grow here." "It sounds like you are refusing a challenge," Saabiq laughs good-naturedly. "Any other time, my good friend, I would let such a comment sway me. But not when it comes to my goddess." Their attention shifts back to you as they finish their statement, "if she wishes to see you and requires my aid, then I will call upon you. Otherwise, stay out of my home and my village. You are not welcome here." And with that, Pharos turns their back to you, and you leave. The walk back through the woods is a silent one. It feels that every time you speak to someone, a new problem unfolds and places you in the middle. "<span class="voice">You are beginning to see that you are the cause. Realizations that you should have already come to terms with,</span>" the Voice sighs sadly, "<span class="voice">it hurts to be attached to someone so slow of wit. You are a glutton for punishment, feasting on the negative thoughts others will gladly show you.</span>" The Voice's words follow you on the walk back and into the palace, they repeat as Saabiq walks you to your room, and with a nod of thanks, they continue to ring in your mind as you close the door. You fall to the ground as soon as you hear the door click to say that it is adequately sealed. <a data-passage="2.07M"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"<span class="voice">You should sleep. So much stress in so few days.</span>" You think the Voice will stop there but it continues on, "<span class="voice">you will die if Moon does not help you. You will die if you cannot beat Adachi. Your parents know better, Makaio knows better, Pharos knows better. You are nothing, simply a puppet that others don't even wish to operate. They would much rather place you in a corner where you gather cobwebs and dust.</span>" "Stop," you growl, closing your ears. But what will that truly stop when the Voice that plagues you is in your head? It is silent for a while, perhaps finally choosing to do as you say. "<span class="voice">One day,</span>" you hear it whisper, "<span class="voice">one day you will find all I said to ring true. At the best of times, you are a convenience and, at worse, a waste of space in a world already teeming to the brim. You will find that even if you were to disappear today, half of those that know you will not realize, while the other half will grow weary at how even gone, you still //plague// them with suffering. <<if $voice >=50>>But I can free you and in freeing myself, you will be free as well. <<else>>Forever lost and wandering. Screaming to be heard by those directly in front of you. They will not hear. They will not care. You are nothing, and nothing you will remain. When those in the tower realized what you were, they threw you away and cast you out. Do you not believe the same will unfold here?<</if>></span>" <<if $voice >=50>>\ "And what must I trade for that?" "<span class="voice">You must simply listen. Those around you will never care for you, and if they seem to do so, it is only so you can give them what they want. But I will never throw you away. You do not believe me now, but you will soon. Those closed eyes will finally open, and you will realize I am your only friend. And when you come to me groveling for help, apologizing for everything you have ever said to me. I will forgive you, and I will help. And when the time comes, I will free us both.</span>" <<else>>\ "I wish you to be silent so I can sleep." "<span class="voice">I will enjoy this,</span>" it snickers, the sound causing you to cringe as your heart feels like it begins to pick up pace. "<span class="voice">I will enjoy watching your deterioration as you are used and thrown. Everyone in your life proves to possess ulterior motives, and you are nothing but a groping puppet. Even more, I hope they raise you up. That your hopes begin to fly high in the sky so that when what I have foretold happens, you will fall like you did so long ago. Only this time, you will not rise again.</span>" <</if>>\ [[Story End->DemoEnd]]
<<nobr>> <<set $nc_1 = true; $prologuefin = true>> <<unset $behinddoor; $closet; $underneathbed; $drugged; $attack>> <<playlist "dark" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>> Your entire body feels like it's humming contentedly. A voice in the back of your head tells you to rise, pushes you to do so. But everything else swipes it aside, forcing it further back until it hardly has enough strength to call itself a whisper. Everything feels light and warm. It is as if someone draped a fur blanket across your shoulders and brought you all your favorite sweets while sitting you in front of a roaring fire. In a world that does everything within its power to see you suffer from torment unmeant to be yours, this is the one place you feel safe. You feel all danger is chased away, the weather cannot harm you, nor can circumstance. For as long as you are here, you will be granted all that you wish for. At first, it is but a sharp prick that acquires your attention and stirs you from your position. A nagging feeling that warns you all is not well. You want to snap at whatever it is. Not now. Not at this moment. Your innards can scream at another time, but right now you wish to retain this peace that has been carved out exclusively for you. It subsides. Upon believing it to be fleeting, it comes back, sending out bolts of discomfort that radiate from your chest and outward. Though it does not get far, it is enough to cause you to whimper and sit upright, clutching at your chest as sweat droplets slide down your forehead. You roughly scratch at your forehead and the ache that is presented. You are unable to figure out whether you shiver due to the cold or if is the drug that runs through your veins. Either way, you are unable to simply sit there as both you and your body begs for the familiar landscape and feeling to come back. You ask for so little. You just need it back. "Are you alright?" The sound of another causes the pain to fade and your mind to focus elsewhere. You glance up into a pair of flaxen-colored eyes, their concern palpable. "Yes," you reply, attempting to calm your racing heart, "just chest aches." The look in his eyes tells you that he has his doubts, but he refrains from voicing them. He presents to you his hulking hand and, with a warm smile, introduces himself, "I'm Xeno Falicihi, by the way. Crown Heir Nouritis' personal guard." [[Accept it.|N1.00Accept][$timid -=3]] [[Reject it.|N1.00Reject][$timid +=3]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Xeno noticed your reaction.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> You peer at his gloved hand but soon accept it, curious if you are touch-sensitive again or not. When his hand meets yours, you flinch, already prepared to face the excruciating pain that typically follows such an action. You let out a thankful and assured breath, not even flinching at the slight chill that coats your hand due to his glove. You only wish you knew how much time remained. Remembering that someone stands before you, you attempt to make it look like nothing has happened. Hiding what worry may remain behind a simplistic smile. "Heir?" His studying eyes give way to a frown. He wears an emotion you feel you are not familiar with; perhaps bittersweet is a word to describe it. <<include "1.00N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> You ignore it, getting to your feet on your own, "Heir?" His smile vanishes and is replaced by another, though not of concern or malice. It is an emotion you feel you are not familiar with; perhaps bittersweet is a word to describe it. <<include "1.00N">>
"I didn't think Their Majesty was lying, but I did believe they were over-exaggerating. They're prone to do that in regards to …" He gives you a look and then shakes his head, "but I see that it is true. You have lost your memory. Mind telling me how that happened?" Though you attempt not to show it, you feel a chill run down your spine regarding the way he asks. It almost feels like he's trying to figure out how much of a risk and threat you potentially are. Of course, you know how. Watcher Tyrae is a braggart and an avid admirer of her own voice. During your 'sessions,' there was little she loved more than explaining what she was doing and why. But she was careful to never wholly tell you how it all worked. How alchemy and magic became one under her so-called astute guiding hand. You look back at Xeno, who waits patiently for an answer. [[Tell him.|N1.00Tell][$leery +=2; $xhonesty = true; $team +=3]] [[Keep it to yourself.|N1.00KeepIt][$leery -=2; $team -=3]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Xeno will remember your honesty.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Naive ++</span><</if>> "There was a woman. A kreol woman named Tyrae. She was called a Watcher, all of who are kind of like the secondary leaders of the tower. She …" Screams chased into the night. A sudden chill as harsh stones come to rest against your skin. You try and answer again, shaking the sudden discomfort from your mind. "She did -" Liquid metal rushing through veins. Discoloration. The world closing in. A whisper. A whimper. And then always, the feel of something scratching at your mind frenziedly. "Hey!" Xeno shouts,<<if hasVisited("N.100Accept")>> putting a hand on your shoulder and<</if>> snapping you out of your self-induced trauma, "it's fine. Tell me when you're ready." You realize that you're hyperventilating, and sweat has once again formed on your brow. You nod, feeling far too tired to do much else besides focus your breathing. <a data-passage="1.01N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Xeno will remember your dishonesty.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Leery ++</span><</if>> What will happen if he deems you a threat? Did you even have the potential to be such? On the surface, you doubt it. Your education is limited, and the most you remember of the experiments is that they took and failed to give. But what if you are a danger? You may be missing information, and even what you did retain could be false. You shake your head, stilling yourself as you look into his eyes, "I just don't remember." He is no idiot, but that is not the question. The question here is how he will respond to you treating him as such. He continues to stare at you but does not push you any further, straightening as a second figure joins your company. <a data-passage="1.01N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The figure from yesterday, Nour, walks in. Their short blonde hair is disheveled, and the discolored circles resting under their eyes tell you that they have not slept. Or perhaps this is natural. "Xeno?" they greet. Their eyes then move to you and grow sad, "$name. Good morning to both of you." "My <<link 'igéati'>><<dialog 'Glossary'>>''igéati'' (ehj-ah-tee): a military term for generals amongst phaizarn. Though this phrase has also been heard amongst sairs<</dialog>><</link>>." Nour waves the word away as they scratch their head, "you know how I hate formalities with you, Xeno. You don't have to do it in front of $name." He rolls his eyes and straightens. Nour's attention rests on you, and their eyes tell of a profound pain that they do not wish to voice. "How did you sleep?" <<if $trust >=50>>"Decent. Thank you for the furs."<<else>>You shrug, having no wish to answer their inquiry.<</if>> They nod, "I'm sure you have questions. We're headed to a nearby village. You can ask them on the way." "You don't wish to shift to travel?" Xeno questions. Nour shoots a look towards you before shaking their head. "No. If you wish to scout ahead, that's fine. But I would rather avoid doing so. We don't know if $name's captors have charms or amulets that can detect shifting." "I'll send the twins forward and warn them to be careful. I would rather stay at your side." Though he does an exceptional job of hiding it, you have become particularly adept at facial cues and the shift in one's speech. With the life that you have lived, you had no choice. You notice the change in Xeno's body language as he decides to stay close, the subtle glance, and the way his body stiffens. <<if $trust >=50>>He does not trust you, not yet.<<else>>He does not trust you, not yet. You snort, that is fine with you. The feeling is mutual.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.02N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
He leaves the two of you alone, calling out to who you believe are the twins. They stand further off in the distance alongside two other people. Your attention then shifts to Nour, who has moved past you, picking up the fur coats that remain resting on the ground. "You're disappointed?" you find yourself questioning. Would you not be if roles were reversed? It is hard to decide what you would be, seeing that you don't know the figure well enough to form a basic idea. [[You obviously meant a lot to them. It must be hard.|1.01.1N][$nour -=5]] [[You struggle to find enough sympathy. You didn't know them.|1.01.1N][$nour +=5]]
"I'm … yea," Nour nods, "I'm disappointed. Though I still don't like the way the word sounds. You have been without for so long that I don't think you'd understand. But it's hard. More than hard to come across you, at long last, and learn that you don't remember anything about me." They turn towards you, "especially when I know everything about you. I remember every moment and," they clear their throat and sigh, "or … atleast I did, once upon a time." You frown, thinking their words over. Your eyes fall to their hand and absent-mindedly, you reach for their hand but stop yourself. "Regardless," you say, mustering up a thankful smile, "you saved me. I am beyond grateful." They shake their head and offer a smile, "don't thank me for that. It should have been done a long time ago, even without permission." They hold out one of the fur coats. "Keep this. You should stay warm." You accept it and follow them outside when the others approach. Nour clears their throat before nodding to two of them. "$name. You didn't have time to properly meet them, but this is Thana and Mikitas. The last of my group. Thana is mostly an archer, and Mikitas a highly-skilled fighter." "It's nice to meet you, Your Majesty," Mikitas bows, while Thana just snorts. "She gets highly-skilled fighter while I just get 'an archer'?" she questions with a smirk, "I know how to use a sword, Your Highness." You are reminded of Xeno's words from earlier, once again recalling that you find yourself in the company of someone else of royalty. Your gaze shifts to Nour, wondering why that isn't one of the first things they told you. [[“Just my name is fine.”|N1.01JustMyName]] [[“That's right, you're the heir.”|N1.01TheHeir]]
"Just my name is fine. I don't need any of those titles added along." Mikitas looks nervous, glancing over at Nour, who nods their head. "I see, $name it is then." She bows once more, and though you feel the need to chide her on the act, Xeno takes a step forward. He grabs Thana's attention and tells her to go before telling Mikitas and Spiros to follow him, once again leaving you alone with Nour. "That is your title, you know," Nour chooses to remind you, "?Prince $name of House Phoenix. You don't have to be scared of it." [[“I'm not affiliated with them.”|N1.01NotAffiliated]] [[“Is that why you came to get me?”|N1.01WhyYouCame]]
"That's right," you state, ignoring the others, though not purposely. Your attention shifts to Nour, "you're royalty. Is that how we knew each other?" Nour shoots a look at Xeno, who simply chuckles and gains the twins' attention, tsking them away before motioning for the last two guards to follow him. "Yes. I'm Heir Nouritis of House Griffin. Not far from your own title, ?Prince $name of House Phoenix." [[“I'm not affiliated with them.”|N1.01NotAffiliated]] [[“Is that why you came to get me?”|N1.01WhyYouCame]]
"My parents abandoned me and though something tells me that you're here because of them, that doesn't change the fact that it's after all this time has passed. So, if it's all the same to you, don't bring it up." They shake their head, "it's not that simple." <<include "1.01.2N">>
"Is that why you came to get me after all this time?" They look like your words sting, but they nod and then frantically shake their head, "yes, but no. You don't understand." <<include "1.01.2N">>
"Then explain it to me." "Your parents have been sending out patrol after patrol to find you. I don't know what happened, but they finally found the area where you were," they motion to your surroundings, "but they couldn't expend any more of their forces and sending phoenixes up here can be deadly. So they sent a message to all the houses in hopes that we could lend our aid." "And you answered that call?" "Of course, I did. I would've joined the search earlier if I had only been allowed." [[“How many other houses joined?”|N1.02HowManyHouses]] [[“Why? What's in it for you?”|N1.02InItForYou][$trust -=5]] [[“Fifteen years though?”|N1.02FifteenYears]]
"How many other houses joined after receiving this call?" "I don't know. They sent out phearns with letters that told us that the Garami Mountains and Plains were where we should begin our search. I know for sure of one other house because I came across them, House Dragon." "And I'm guessing you beat them here?" "Yes. And you should consider that a great boon. Their leader is … to put it simply, an ass." "Then there must be a reason they are out here? Did my parents promise something? A reward?" <<include "1.01.3N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> "You say that other houses were called in. I'm not entirely sure how politics work for you, but I know that no one would act if there wasn't an incentive. So, what is it?" "Excuse me?" Nour's expression states that they know what you ask but wish not to answer. Finding that staying obtuse suits their needs far more. "What is the reward?" Nour continues to seem slow to answer, now avoiding your gaze. How are you to ever trust this person and their goals if they so candidly avoid your questions and play the fool? <<include "1.01.3N">>
"Fifteen years, though? It took that long?" "You must understand, $name, they have been searching all this time." "I don't," you say, shaking your head and putting space between the two of you, "I don't understand how fifteen years could pass, and only now do I find myself free of that prison. And not even you can fully explain it to me. Can you?" Nour sighs and closes their eyes, declining to answer. "I don't know how much of this I should answer. It could do more harm than good due to your current state." "Allow me to worry about my own health, as I know it best. Tell me." <<include "1.01.3N">>
They appear trapped, opening their mouth when Xeno shouts, "Ser, come here." Nour offers you an apologetic glance before going to Xeno's side, leaving you alone and with questions not yet answered. You continue forward, staring down at the soft, fresh snow when it dawns on you. Realization eases itself onto burdened shoulders. You are free. After fifteen years stuck in a tower and dreaming of escape, you have accomplished it. Yesterday's adrenaline rush didn't allow you to stop and think about this part, about the liberation. <a data-passage="1.03N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Your feet pick up as you dart to the side, your mind nor your body knowing what for, but it just feels right. You inhale the wild wind and take in the alabaster snow. You shovel up a handful before throwing it in the air, watching as the wind carries and deposits some of it elsewhere. The majority flutters down over you, glimmering like golden stars underneath the sunlight. Your breath hitches as everything seems to burst with color. [[But then it bleeds away. This wasn't over.|N1.03Anger][$anger +=1]] [[A bounty of hues and shades.|N1.03Sad][$sad +=1]] [[And slowly, the gray moves in. What was joy?|N1.03Numb][$numb +=1]]
Your breath calms the more you look around, watching as the colors converge and then dribble. Your heartbeat steadies, and your eyes finally see this for what it is. A trick. A facade. Something that will soon be snatched from you and replaced by grime-covered walls and a stench of archaic dolor. This is but a reprieve that your heart has foolishly clung to, forgetting that the real world does not see you as the victor. The Watchers will come. They will take you back. They will tease you with the idea of freedom after that, allowing you to slip away before retrieving you and throwing you into their stone prison. They will laugh, and Tyrae will shake her head, expecting more as she injects her foreign magic. It will grip your brain and - <<include "1.03.1N">>
It is so new. A prismatic experience with shades and hues that you doubt have names. Everything seems different, and though you feel joy, you also experience sadness. For you have been without this for so long. Your life has been colorless, dull, and lifeless. To finally be amongst it again is overwhelming. For years you have prayed to once again experience this, and though your dreams are no longer just that, it also seems surreal. As if Tyrae would appear and tell you that all of it is a lie, yet another experiment. You don't realize that you're crying until the chilled wind brushes against your cheek, stinging as it attempts to freeze the tears in their place. You rub them away and bring the coat that Nour offered you closer to your form. It is all so beautiful, and yet so forbidden. <<include "1.03.1N">>
The colors, once so vibrant, slowly begin to shift. They color themselves with a doleful brush, hardly appearing different than their lighter or darker neighbors. Soon, the world is a myriad of gray, black, and white. Your heart whimpers as it calls for the color to return, though your brain merely nods in sinister satisfaction. For this is how the world is, and it doesn't wish to look upon a cruelly placed facade any longer. The emotion that once carries your heart vanishes, leaving only one behind, numbness. The most familiar. It takes hold of your heart, whispering to it that it is still its friend, that it is reliable, before dragging it back to its prison. For how dare your heart believe itself free? How dare it see the world for what it isn't? How dare it hope? <<include "1.03.1N">>
"$name?" Nour questions, their warm hand on your shoulder and bringing you back to the now. For a moment, you are aware of their touch but you still feel like you are not fully there. Instead, you continue to stare as if their hand is not merely just an appendage but something else. "$name?" they repeat again and you blink. "I …" you start, attempting to explain what just happened. The world is once again familiar, but that does not bring as much joy as you would suspect. "Are you okay?" You cling to the coat they gave you, about to answer when pain riddles your chest. Like earlier, it originates from your heart and sends a prickling feeling outwards, but it does not get far. It always seems to die once it gets to the middle of your chest, then the cycle starts anew. <a data-passage="1.03.1.0N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name!" Nour shouts as your knees give out, and they support you, "what's wrong?" "I don't know. This pain is new. I haven't felt this until I woke up." Could Tyrae's procedures have brought yet another symptom for you to fret over? It has happened plenty of times and is the most likely explanation. Nour's hand touches your cheek and your heart feels like it stumbles over itself in both eagerness and fear. There is nothing but warmth in their touch and you wish to settle into it, to never let it go. They direct your face so that your eyes meet theirs. Were they always this gold? A shimmering madness of an eclipsing yellow lies before you. It delicately reaches for you, beckoning you closer. [[Refuse it.|N1.03Refuse][$nour +=5]] [[Get closer.|N1.03Closer][$nour -=5; $connection +=1]]
You refuse it. And by refusing, the color darkens, and the shimmer pales. You move Nour's hand away and recoil away from their touch, giving them a lone nod to thank them for helping you earlier. Even if the pain has yet to return, it would not be wise to get used to their touch, to anyone's touch. It will only cause the loss of such comfort to hurt more. They don't attempt to hide any of the pain on their face, their shoulders slouching as they give you the space that you mutely requested. "You don't … never mind. The village shouldn't be too far away. We'll visit a medicine man or a shaman to make sure that you're okay." <<include "1.03.2N">>
You lean in, allowing the boldness to drag you closer. It feels safe. A cocoon that refuses to open to anyone's orders but yours, and you are in no rush. It promises to protect and serve you to ensure that your heart is always whole and your wishes granted. What is this feeling and why would you gladly let it engulf you? "$name," Nour whispers, their breath against your cheek. And then they close their eyes and cut off the connection. You blink a few times as they lean away from you, releasing and taking a few steps back as they inhale and exhale arduously. You watch as they deeply drag in the air and stiffen, "the village shouldn't be too far away. We'll visit a medicine man or a shaman to make sure that you're okay." <<include "1.03.2N">>
"A shaman?" you question, vaguely remembering what a medicine man is, as well as just surmising that it's someone who deals with medicine. Nour wrinkles their brow but does not ask about your lack of knowledge, "a shaman is a witch who deals with medicine and spirits mostly." "Why would we visit one of them?" "Sometimes an illness has less to do with nature and more to do with magic. Seeing that you are a phoenix who survived staying in the Garami Mountains for that long, I don't believe magic is not a possibility. If that's true, a medicine man won't be able to help us like a shaman can. It's wise to get both of their thoughts." "And how do you know that a village rests nearby?" You have never heard of one, though you always pondered about the servants' comings and goings. "We surveyed the area before focusing on rescuing you. We needed to figure out all the exits and what could potentially go wrong." "You thought of everything." Nour meets your eye and, without breaking contact, shakes their head, "no, not everything." <a data-passage="1.04N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The two of you walk on, Nour staying by your side this time and keeping an eye on both you and those a few yards in front. "You still have questions?" You did, but you are now unsure whether some of them are wise to ask. If their earlier silence revealead anything, it is that they aren't ready to be forthcoming about everything, despite what they say. "If you don't mind. I have one as well." Their words pique your interest, and you cock your head as you await the question. "The tower. What happened in there? If you don't want to answer, then that's fine. I'd just like a better understanding of what you went through. Especially since I found you chained in a dungeon <<if $bruises>>with bruises riddling your face." Their voice shifts in emotion and you watch as they have to pause, clenching their eyes closed as if it is the only way to calm themselves.<<else>>." Their voice shifts in emotion and you see them stiffen out the corner of your eye.<</if>> [[Be honest.|N1.04Honest][$nour -=5; $trust +=5; $nourknows = true]] [[Be vague.|N1.04Vague][$nour -=3]] [[Lie about it.|N1.04Lie][$nour +=5; $trust -=5]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Nour now knows what happened. They appreciate your honesty.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> "It wasn't the worst thing, I suppose. But I don't know how else to word my experience. Part of me believes that it could have been so much worse and that I at least was able to escape some atrocities." "That means nothing," they snort, "horror is horror. Even if your horror differs from another, it does not lessen the value of your own." You nod in understanding, "then yes. They fed and clothed me, and I ... I was experimented on." You see Nour stiffen, their hand curling into a fist. "I no longer know what is a lie and what is not. I …" Your mind blurs, and you're faced with an event. You remember this scantily. It was the first time you had been punished. It's vague. So vague that the memory doesn't even reach you in full. Faded colors and distorted voices. The more you think about it, the more you hurt, and you finally remember. This is the first memory that Tyrae toyed with. <a data-passage="N1.04Honest1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
It is incomplete, an action that never occurred again due to her perfectionist attitude. "Tyrae," you breathe out, forgetting what you had been discussing, "my memories. She messed with them." It was one thing to constantly think such thing to yourself, but completely another when speaking them aloud and to another, sympathetic being. Nour stops you by standing in your way, "she did what?" "I don't," you cut yourself off. Yes, you do. You know exactly what she did and what dark alchemy she dabbled in. You were her plaything, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you would never know just how much damage she did. How many memories did she strip from you? Did she distort any? What was her limit, and her goal? You feel out of breath, but Nour grounds you. "We will find a way to undo this." "How?" you question, "I hardly know how it's possible that one can toy with memories, but you wish to undo that madness?" "There's a way. There has to be. Magic is … well, magic." They release you and turn around, continuing on as they grumble. <a data-passage="1.05N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"It was what you would expect," you shrug, "I was a prisoner, and they were my captors." "You word it as if all people treat their prisoners with disrespect." "Don't you?" Nour glances over at you, "so they kept you locked away most of the time?" Changing the conversation. Though they aren't good at doing it, you are beginning to see that it is a favorite move of theirs. "Yes, I suppose. I was hardly allowed to leave the tower and go outside. And when I was, it was only to the garden. Mostly I stayed inside and did a few activities and chores." "They," you stop talking as an unpleasant memory once again finds you. It was the first time you had been punished. It's vague, so vague that the memory doesn't even reach you in full. Faded colors and distorted voices. The more you think about it, the more you hurt, and you finally remember. This is the first memory that Tyrae toyed with. It is incomplete, an action that never occurred again due to her perfectionist attitude. "$name?" You glance over at Nour, who waits for you to finish. [[Tell them about your memories.|N1.04TellMem][$nour -=5; $nourknows = true; $trust +=2]] [[Refuse to tell them.|N1.04RefuseThem][$nour +=5; $trust -=2]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Nour knows you're being dishonest. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> <<nobr>>\ <<if $connection >=1>> <<set $connection -=1>> <</if>> <</nobr>>\ You shrug nonchalantly as if your time in the tower isn't something that will fuel nightmares for years to come. "It was simple. I wake up, and I do what they say. I would eat and sleep, do chores and a few activities, and the day would thus start again." "You mean to tell me you were treated more like a simple guest?" "Yes." "$name, I found you in a dungeon.<<if $bruises>> Your face had — still has, bruises decorating it.<</if>> Tell me the truth." "Which I am doing. If you don't wish to accept it, then that is no problem of mine." "You tell me that your memories are gone, but that has no correlation to your time in the tower?" "Perhaps I have simply forgotten? Fifteen years is a long time." Your words are not said callously, but that doesn't stop Nour from taking them in such fashion. Nour gulps, "yes. It is." <a data-passage="1.05N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Nour now knows what happened. They appreciate your honesty.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> "Tyrae," you breathe out, "my memories. She messed with them." Nour stops you by standing in your way, "she did what?" "I don't," you cut yourself off. Yes, you do. You know exactly what she did and what dark alchemy she dabbles in. You are her plaything, and the more you think about it, the more you realize that you will never know how much damage she did. How many memories did she strip from you? Did she distort any? What was her limit and goal? You feel out of breath, but Nour grounds you. "We will find a way to undo this." "How?" you question, "I hardly know how it's possible that one can toy with memories, but you wish to undo that madness?" "There's a way. There has to be. Magic is … well, magic." They release you and turn around, continuing on as they grumble. <a data-passage="1.05N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Nour knows you're being dishonest. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> "It is nothing. Just reminiscing." "Of something so dark?" You shake your head. "$name. You can tell me the truth." "Which I am doing. If you don't wish to accept it, then that is no problem of mine." "You tell me that your memories are gone, but that has no correlation to your time in the tower?" "Perhaps I have simply forgotten? Fifteen years is a long time." Your words are not said callously, but that doesn't stop Nour from taking them in such fashion. Nour gulps, "yes. It is." <a data-passage="1.05N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour no longer seems to be in the talking mood, and though they do not wander far from you, they do keep to themselves. You allow it. Focusing on other pressing matters such as your absent memories and whether or not you still have to fear those of the tower. How easy will it be to find you? Even more so, do they care to? None, other than Tyrae, cared anything for you. You have your doubts that Tyrae will simply let you go. She has invested too much time on you. The entire time you've been there, you never quite learned why you were kept. You always presumed that it was your parent's wishes. But if they wished you out of the picture and to forget you, then why not order you killed? And why send a message to the houses to rescue you? Of course, this could be a lie, but then your time in the tower is a complete mystery. Could Tyrae have devised all of this? You have contingent memories of her answering your questions pertaining to your presence and parents but nothing substantial. All of it gives you a nasty headache, and that doesn't even count your want to question Nour. They speak to you with such a familiar and trusting air that you have no doubt that they know you. But who are they to you? Fifteen years is a long time, and the way they look at you, it is something … something you can't put your finger on. <<if $leery >=50>>You are wary of them, more so than anyone else. They have an odd way of breaking down defenses that have long since been tested and reinforced. And despite your body screaming for them to stop, they keep tearing them down, forcing you to rebuild. The problem is that you know not how to fight against this assault.<<else>>It is odd, and it causes your heart to feel as if it is prancing. A sort of confusing joy met and took hold of it, causing it to rattle in the cage that you stuffed it inside long ago. You fail to understand if it is wiser to open that door and let your heart soar or if you should find a place to hide the key, for it is all a foolish notion.<</if>> <<if $connection >=1>>And then there is the connection you feel towards them. Something vital and perhaps even captivating. They rescued you and showed you kindness like no other. Their presence and touch bring such warmth that it scares you even more to know that soon, you will no longer be able to feel them. An invisible wall that they will know nothing about will be erected, but you will. What cruel games fate plays with you. To let you be amongst someone so pure, only to snatch it away a moment later.<<else>>In the end, you feel a touch of malice towards the understanding that this has messed with what is normally the best part of Tyrae's experimentation. It lasts less than a day and instead of basking in the feeling that has cocooned you for decades, you are doing this.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.05.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The five of you continue on when you come to a stop at the top of a snowdrift. Below you, a snug village scene is depicted. Smoke drifting from a few chimneys and a few bodies making their way about, but not many. "There is a chance that this village may know your face," Xeno warns you, or perhaps he is more so speaking to Nour, who comes to a halt beside him. "Do you recognize the architecture?" "No," Xeno and Mikitas both say in unison. Spiros remains quiet. Nour says nothing for a while before sighing, "then we wait here for the twins to return." "You trust them?" Xeno scoffs, "they're probably down there getting fat off of pig hide." "That does sound tasty," Mikitas sighs, rubbing her belly as she takes a seat. "At the very least I trust Idreialis to not become distracted. We wait here for their return. In the meantime," Nour turns to you, removing their chlamys and motioning for you to come closer. "Xeno is right. You should hide your face from curious eyes." They drape the chlamys over your head and loosely maneuver it so that it covers most of your face<<if $height is "short" or $height is "very short">>, having to bend down to get it just right.<<else>>.<</if>> Only your eyes and the bridge of your nose remain exposed to the elements. <<if $eyes is "gold">>\ For a moment, Nour pauses their actions as they stare deeply into your eyes. It almost seems as if they are mesmerized. Your heart thumps wildly, unsure of how to react as you notice the awe in their expression. When they blink, they seem to remember where they are and what is happening. They glance away, inhaling and exhaling until their breath is steady. Finishing their work, Nour takes a step back and nods, avidly avoiding your gaze. <</if>>\ [[“Aren't you cold?”|N1.05.1Cold]] [[“Thanks.”|N1.05.1Thanks]] [[Say nothing.|N1.05.1Nothing]]
You feel the material, not having realized how thick it is until you are wearing it. It immediately warms your head and ears, which tells you that it was insulating Nour relatively well up until now. "Are you not cold?" "I'm fine," they say just as a chill speeds through them and they shiver. They offer you a smile before turning to speak to Xeno. You catch a view of their tail, a tail that you did not know they even possessed. It appears a dark sepia tone with a tuft of dark brown and white hair on the end. It is long enough to where it can reach the floor, but it curls just before. <<include "1.06N">>
"Thanks," you acknowledge, and they nod to you before turning to speak to Xeno. You catch a view of their tail, a tail that you did not know they even possessed. It appears a dark sepia tone with a tuft of dark brown and white hair on the end. It is long enough to where it can reach the floor, but it curls just before. You feel the material that is now wrapped around your head. Being right against your nose, it doesn't take long for you to get a whiff of Nour's natural musk, a light woodsy one with sweet-spicy undertones. The undertones are far harder to determine, especially since you don't know too many scents and can only think of common descriptors to aid you. Settling into it, you find yourself closing your eyes and basking in the fragrance, <<if $positive >=50>>a new scent that lifts your spirits<<else>>a new scent that wishes to lift you, but fails<</if>>. You stop, clearing your throat and looking away sheepishly due to your actions, even though no one's attention is currently on you. <<include "1.06N">>
When Nour finishes, you give them a simple nod, remaining quiet as you stand there. They turn their back to you and go to speak to Xeno, allowing you to catch sight of a tail that you did not know they possessed. It appears a dark sepia tone with a tuft of dark brown and white hair on the end. It is long enough to where it can reach the floor, but it curls just before. <<include "1.06N">>
You're unsure how much time manages to pass when Xeno finally stirs you all. You glance over to see that the twins are now standing at his side, speaking to Nour. Based off of their body language, you believe that nothing happened, but they could be masters at hiding their real thoughts. You approach. "There's an inn as well. We might wish to," the twin speaking, Thana, you believe, stops and turns to you. "Oh, you already covered ?his_ face. Good. Then yes, we should be all set." "Do you know if a medicine man or shaman is present?" Nour inquires. "We did not ask around," she informs, and they nod. "I would very much like to sleep in a bed tonight, so Mikitas and Idreialis, you two go and get us rooms for the inn. As many rooms as you can and be gracious either way. Xeno and Thana, head to the markets and see what goods they have for trade, also listen in. I would like to know what this village knows about that tower and the occupants. Goad if need be but do not bring attention to yourself. Spiros, you will be with me and $name. We'll visit the local healer and make sure $name is alright." "Ser!" they all shout and, without further instruction, work their way down the drift and towards the village. You stick close to Nour but find yourself drifting the closer you get to the village. You hardly recall the last time you've been to one, a distant memory, one untouched by Tyrae of when you were a child. It held great joy and a curiosity unmatched. But like most distant memories, you are unable to unveil it. Its contents much too blurry and practically elusive. The only thing you remember is that it is a positive one. <a data-passage="1.07N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Good day," a woman with two children dancing around her welcomes, a basket in her hand as she tries to settle them down. <<if $past >=50>>You smile to yourself, pondering if you and Nour did the same. The thought causing you to think about what games you would play and who would always think up the ideas. All of that was taken from you.<</if>> "May I ask for a small moment of your time?" Nour questions, partially bowing to her and smiling down at the kids that seek to hide behind their mother's long skirt. "Why, what manners," she chuckles, "well, of course." "My companions and I are seeking a shaman or medicine man. Do you have either in this village?" She frowns in thought, "a shaman, yes. Though his hours are confusing at best. He has a plague mask sign hanging above his home." "A plague mask?" Nour questions, brow raised. "He's eccentric," she snickers, her attention pulled to her children who yank on her dress. They beg for their mother to come and leave the strange people alone. "Eccentric?" you question, looking to Nour for help. "It means, odd. They don't behave like others would." "Am I eccentric?" Their face softens and they bite their lip as they gaze off, "more like exceptional." <a data-passage="1.07.0N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Before you can question them again, the woman sighs and states, "I must be going; just follow this street to find him." Nour nods their thanks and follows her directions. You busy yourself with the sights, knowing that this village, though small, holds sights that you have not experienced for at least a decade. The smells, the colors, it threatens to overload your mind. [[Follow the smells.|N1.07Smells]] [[Follow the sounds.|N1.07Sounds]] [[Continue on.|N1.07Continue]]
//It is wise to continue along the path//, you think to yourself. Your health is important, and delaying learning what's going on seems foolish. Not to mention that even though a part of you wishes to venture, your heart's interest is already fading. All of this is new, yes, but you can't muster up the energy to bask in all of it. Taking another look out across the town, you decide to continue on with Spiros and Nour. You presume that they noticed how your eyes have wandered, and they smile. "If you think this is in any way interesting. You should see <<link 'Prousena'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Prousena is the capital of House Griffin, residing on the largest mesa in the area known as the Mesas of Ascension. It is rivaled only by House Basilisk's capital in terms of population. The capital, though open to all, is majority flyers and even a few sairs.<</dialog>><</link>>." "Prousena?" <<if $nature >=10>>\ "Where I'm from," they inform, "the seat of the griffins. We have these amazingly huge mesas, and Prousena is actually built around one. So imagine buildings in the gaps, below, around, and on top. And when the sun sets," they throw their head back and sigh, "when the sun sets they almost look like they're glowing. There's not that much vegetation, but the red clay and the loam soil is an interesting combination to stare at." They laugh. "I remember this one time when we were kids, you wanted me to -," they choke on their own words. Their smile disappearing as it looks like someone had just appeared and punched them. The mood dissipates as Nour offers you a spiritless smile. <<else>>\ "Where I'm from," they inform, "the seat of the griffins. We have these amazingly huge mesas, and -" You swiftly interject, "mesas? What is that?" "They're ... well, I'm no stone expert but I can do my best to describe them. They're big flat hills, made of rock or at least ours are. They're really steep and it's hard to miss them. They stand out that much. Anyway, Prousena is actually built around one. So imagine buildings in the gaps, below, around, and on top. And when the sun sets," they throw their head back and sigh, "when the sun sets they almost look like they're glowing. There's not that much vegetation, but the red clay and the loam soil is an interesting combination to stare at." They laugh. "I remember this one time when we were kids, you wanted me to -," they choke on their own words. Their smile disappearing as it looks like someone had just appeared and punched them. The mood dissipates as Nour offers you a spiritless smile. <</if>>\ <<if $connection >=1>>You reach out to them, pausing before your hand can make contact, but thankfully, you have already caught their attention. "Perhaps after this, you can tell me more." Your words don't bring them happiness, but it at least chase away the slight despair<<else>>"Nevermind." They nod in front of them, "I think we're here."<</if>> Spiros holds the door open for the two of you before entering last. The hut's only source of light is that of the few windows that line the walls. Bowls with unknown remedies rest in odd places, burning while others seem to just be sitting idly. A collection of herbs hang from the ceiling, and on a large shelf, a few books, jars, and what you suppose are insects. The hut is quiet. The only noise originating from a crackling fire that stews something with an earthy fragrance. <a data-passage="1.09N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Impatience settle into your feet, and before you know it, you rush off, allowing your nose to guide you. The smell of something sweet is your navigator, plotting a course of mystery and fascination until you reach your destination. A cart with a plump man stands there, a gratified smile on his face as he spots you. "Crocotta strudel? Only three ruho." "What's a Crocotta strudel?" He reels back, aghast, "you don't know? You're missing out. It's only the tastiest small dessert in all of Treces!" Your eyes widen at his exaggerated speech and ask, "all of it?" "All of it," he tells you leaning in, "it's a pastry with a sweet fruity filling. Made from the crocotta plant that almost takes like honey and berries combined in one glorious fruit." "It sounds amazing." <a data-passage="1.07.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Sounds?" he laughs, "why not see for yourself?" You're about to tell him that you have no way to pay when, out the corner of your eye, you see an outstretched hand open, and coins fall into the man's welcoming grasp. You turn to see Nour standing there. They say nothing, merely nodding to the man who offers you the pastry. You take it, and though in the grand scheme of it all, this moment feels small, your heart pounds as fast as it did the other day. You carefully maneuver Nour's chlamys out the way and take a bite. There's no burst of flavor. Instead, you find yourself coming across a harmonious dance between the dough of the strudel and the taste of the fruit. It's delicious. In a couple of bites, you find yourself finishing it off, part of you almost reluctant to finish chewing. "I take it you like it?" the man questions, and you nod vigorously. "Well, I'm always happy to make someone's day. Especially someone who has never tasted one before." "Thank you," Nour tells him, guiding you away. They chuckle, "next time, can you at least tell me that you plan to run away?" "Sorry," you chuckle anxiously, "that smell was intoxicating. Still is." "Don't apologize," they correct, their smile disappearing as their eyes grow downcast, but they soon shake whatever is on their mind away. "Let's see this shaman, and then we'll venture around." You nod in agreement. <a data-passage="1.08N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Impatience settles into your feet, and before you know it, you rush off, going towards the sound of an upbeat drum and what you believe is a flute. You find the duo responsible residing in the middle of an intersection. The drummer is sitting while their partner dances around as they play the flute. They have amassed a sizable crowd, all who nod and clap along, a few dancing either by themselves or with a partner. "$name," Nour growls, "don't just run off." "Do you like to dance?" "What? Dance?" "Yes, dance," you repeat, motioning to the crowd and the few dancers that are present. "I doubt this is the best time to just go and dance." [[“Then when is the best time?”|N1.07WhenBestTime][$timid +=3]] [[“Can you not dance?”|N1.07NotDance][$spirit +=3]] [[“I shall dance alone then.”|N1.07DanceAloneThen][$timid -=3]] [["Can I at least watch them for a while?"|N1.07WatchAWhile][$spirit -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Apathy ++</span><</if>> "I don't wish to join them, only to watch. Is that so bad?" They sigh, scratching their temple, "it's not that watching is bad. But we don't exactly have all the time in the world." You shift to follow, resigned to continue the short journey to the shaman's hut when Nour signals you to stop. "Just for a bit." You perk up enough to show them that you're thankful for the change of mind, focusing your attention back on the crowd and those that dance. From your current position, you have an excellent view of the dancers and the musicians. You're enraptured by how their fingers deftly move across chords and how quickly they tap the drums to create the tune you were now hearing. While each dancer moves so freely that you would doubt they have a single care in the world. They exude happiness, and you find yourself growing envious of their laughter and smiles. Would that freedom ever find you? A form of liberation that causes you to twirl and throw your head back as you finally find yourself living a life that was yours. It feels distant, much like anything would when gazed at from inside of a steel prison. You nod to Nour, motioning that you are ready to go. "Perhaps later we can go around town. Look at the sights if you wish." "I'd be interested in looking." <a data-passage="1.08N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> "Then tell me, when is the best time?" Nour opens, then closes their mouth, and you grin in victory. "I may not know a lot, but I do know that nothing is guaranteed. If you wish to do something, then you do it now." "If I lived my life by that, then a lot of things would be different," Nour grumbles. They glance over at you and smile, shrugging their shoulders. "You better hurry before the song comes to an end then." [[Dance alone.|N1.07DanceAlone]] [[Dance with Nour.|N1.07DanceNour][$dancenour = true]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Ardor ++</span><</if>> "Ah, I see," you smirk, "can you not dance?" They look taken back, "of course, I can. Though I can't say I like it very much." "Why is that?" They roll their eyes, "you know why." Pausing, they shake their head, "never mind. Go on." [[Dance alone.|N1.07DanceAlone]] [[Pull Nour along.|N1.07DanceNour][$dancenour = true]]
You smile as you go towards the crowd and Nour stays where they are. Once there, you let the music take you. <<include "1.07.2N">>
Your smirk at their words, before capturing their hand and pulling them towards the others. Soon, this will be but another wish as your skin reminds you how much it yearns for the closeness of another. A memory that you can only recount in the silent instances you experience throughout your days. You are not sure if this song has a particular dance and some part of you cares none. For now, you let the music take you. <<include "1.07.2N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> "Then you leave me no choice," you say, already heading out towards the other dancers, "I shall dance alone then." "Fine. But we need to go to the shaman right after this." You nod in understanding and take your place amongst the other dancers. You're not sure if this song has a particular dance and some part of you cares none. You let the music take you. <<include "1.07.2N">>
<<if $acrobat >=10>>\ <<if $dancenour>>\ You sway from side to side, sometimes releasing Nour's hand to spin before returning to them. Dancing is not so different than acrobatics — the flexibility and letting your body take over. You close your eyes as you do just that, the music and your body working as one to direct you where to go and what to do. The world drops away, similar to how it did when you would practice in the study. But there is an additional element this time, the presence of another so close. The two of you move as if this is not your first time doing such an activity. It is as if Nour predicts your moves and meets you there each time, ready to grab or swing you without you having to say anything. You experience a passionate harmony. Something so freeing yet so calm at the same time. Perhaps this is what flying should feel like. You find yourself utterly captivated as countless emotions overwhelm you to the point where it feels as if you're drowning. [[And you do so willingly.|N1.07Willingly][$connection +=1]] [[You pull yourself out.|N1.07PullYourselfOut]] <<else>>\ You sway from side to side, not thinking, just doing. Dancing, it is not so different than acrobatics — the flexibility and letting your body take over. You close your eyes as you do just that, the music and your body working as one to direct you where to go and what to do. The world drops away, similar to how it did when you would practice in the study. You let go. You unleash the tension, and you, for once, relax. You only stop when you find that the music has come to an end, opening your eyes to see that the majority of those in attendance are looking at you. They applaud and whistle, and even the musicians give you nods of recognition. You don't know what you did, but you guess that it is something worth complimenting. [[Bow.|N1.07.2Bow][$spirit +=2]] [[Wave it away.|N1.07.2Wave][$spirit -=2]] <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $dancenour>>\ Both of you stick to the basics, twirling and swaying, with a few additional moves that require you to release the other before rejoining. You are mystified about what to do, but you refuse to let that take away from the fun of this moment. In the tower, there was no music<<if $music >=10>>, not unless you ask or you did so yourself.<<else>>.<</if>> So, that alone pushes you to enjoy it. To do something you haven't done in so long, relax. And with Nour, you find it almost effortless. That familiarness and knowledge of being protected overwhelm you. On top of that, you can feel their touch, to feel their hand wrap around yours as they pull you in or rest on your waist to ensure your stumbling does not lead to you sprawling out on the ground. Your heart thuds almost painfully in your chest. Dancing with them, no just being around Nour, sometimes it feels like too much. Like an overload of a specific thought and a peek into a life that isn't yours. The sensation of being burned but craving it. You find yourself utterly captivated as countless emotions overwhelm you to the point where it feels as if you're drowning. [[And you do so willingly.|N1.07Willingly][$connection +=1]] [[You pull yourself out.|N1.07PullYourselfOut]] <<else>>\ You stick to the basics, twirling and swaying mostly. You are mystified about what to do, but you refuse to let that take away from the fun of this moment. In the tower, there was no music, not unless you ask Nyana'iva to play something<<if $music >=10>> or you did so yourself.<<else>>.<</if>> So, that alone pushes you to enjoy it. To do something you haven't done in so long, relax. <<include "1.07.3">> <</if>>\ <</if>>\
And you drown in it, head first into the chilliest of water with curiosity fueling you into diving deeper and deeper. You refuse to listen to your inner screams because you know your destination will be your salvation. A part of you knows how ridiculous it is, but a louder part cares little. It wants to exist right here, with your savior. You are made aware of the no longer playing music only due to Nour squeezing your hand. They look at you as if the two of you are the only people in the world. It almost scares you how much raw affection rests in their eyes. And yet again, the wish to drown washes over you. <<include "1.07.3">>
And that thought scares you. Memories of Tyrae and how those in the tower inevitably began to treat you flood your mind. You gasp for air and do everything you can to escape. Pulling yourself away from Nour, you're at least pleased that the music has ended. A light headache overtakes you, but you push it away, turning to Nour, whose expression is unreadable. <<include "1.07.3">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Ardor ++</span><</if>> You bow with a broad smile and when you rise back up, <<if $dancenour>>turn to see Nour there. They are the only ones not clapping, but the look in their eyes tells you it is due to their amazement. You feel as if you are someone else at that moment, and your heart can hardly handle the overload that their stare alone carries. You blush as you gaze at the ground, placing a bit more space between the two of you.<<else>>see Nour there. They are the only ones not clapping, but it isn't due to irritation but amazement. You feel as if you are someone else at that moment, and your heart can hardly handle the overload that their stare alone carries. You blush as you gaze at the ground, making your way to their side.<</if>> "That was amazing," they remark. "You flatter me." "I don't mean to," they chuckle, "I only speak the truth." <<include "1.07.3">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Apathy ++</span><</if>> You wave their applause away, hiding your blush as you <<if $dancenour>>motion for Nour to leave the area and you follow behind.<<else>>make your way towards where you believe Nour stands.<</if>> "That was amazing," they remark. "You flatter me." "I don't mean to," they chuckle, "I only speak the truth." <<include "1.07.3">>
"Uh, let's go see that shaman, huh?" Nour suggests. "Yea … and sorry," you chuckle anxiously, "about running off like that." "Don't apologize," they correct, their smile disappearing as their eyes grow downcast, but they soon shake whatever was on their mind away. <a data-passage="1.08N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Though," they sing, skipping a few steps ahead and turning to you, walking backward with a smug grin, "if you think this is impressive or even interesting. You should see <<link 'Prousena'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Prousena is the capital of House Griffin, residing on the largest mesa in the area known as the Mesas of Ascension. It is rivaled only by House Basilisk's capital in terms of population. The capital, though open to all, is majority flyers and even a few sairs.<</dialog>><</link>>." "Prousena?" <<if $nature >=10>>\ "Where I'm from," they inform, "the seat of the griffins. We have these amazingly huge mesas, and Prousena is actually built around one. So imagine buildings in the gaps, below, around, and on top. And when the sun sets," they throw their head back and sigh, "when the sun sets they almost look like they're glowing. There's not that much vegetation, but the red clay and the loam soil is an interesting combination to stare at." They laugh. "I remember this one time when we were kids, you wanted me to -," they choke on their own words. Their smile disappearing as it looks like someone had just appeared and punched them. The mood dissipates as Nour offers you a spiritless smile. <<else>>\ "Where I'm from," they inform, "the seat of the griffins. We have these amazingly huge mesas, and -" You swiftly interject, "mesas? What is that?" "They're ... well, I'm no geologist but I can do my best to describe them. They're big flat hills, made of rock or at least ours are. They're really steep and it's hard to miss them. They stand out that much. Anyway, Prousena is actually built around one. So imagine buildings in the gaps, below, around, and on top. And when the sun sets," they throw their head back and sigh, "when the sun sets they almost look like they're glowing. There's not that much vegetation, but the red clay and the loam soil is an interesting combination to stare at." They laugh. "I remember this one time when we were kids, you wanted me to -," they choke on their own words. Their smile disappearing as it looks like someone had just appeared and punched them. The mood dissipates as Nour offers you a spiritless smile. <</if>>\ <<if $connection >=1>>You reach out to them, pausing before your hand can make contact, but thankfully, you have already caught their attention. "Perhaps after this, you can tell me more." Your words don't bring them happiness, but it at least chase away the slight despair<<else>>"Nevermind." They nod in front of them, "I think we're here."<</if>> "The shaman. He's this way." Spiros holds the door open for the two of you before entering last. The hut's only source of light is that of the few windows that line the walls. Bowls with unknown remedies rest in odd places, burning while others seem to just be sitting idly. A collection of herbs hang from the ceiling, and on a large shelf, a few books, jars, and what you suppose are insects. The hut is quiet. The only noise originating from a crackling fire that stews something with an earthy fragrance. <a data-passage="1.09N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
It is a grounding scent. One that reminds you who you are. The excitement from earlier disappears as you once again stand as $name, the phoenix that has been locked away for years. Sheltered and traumatized. The same person who lost their memory and is now traveling with those ?she hardly knows. Your soul cries out for the other to return, but they're like a ghost now, passed on and in a place where they may now be appreciated. <<if $timid >=50>>\ "Can I help you?" a wizened man asks, limping into the room with a set scowl and tired eyes. His skin is a faded green and cracking, wrinkles resting along his jaw and neck. <<else>>\ You shake the thought from your mind, continuing to gaze around and focusing on a few jars with oddly colored liquid. You see something move and begin to reach for it, curiosity and bravery spurring you on. "Don't touch anything," a scowling man orders, limping into the room with tired eyes. His skin is a faded green and cracking, wrinkles resting along his jaw and neck. "I don't come into your home and start putting my hands on everything. What do you want?" <</if>>\ "We ask for your help. Our companion," Nour speaks, motioning towards you, "?he<<verb "'s" "'re">> sick." "Well, I don't work for free," he grumbles. Immediately, Spiros pulls out a pouch full of ruho and shows the man. "Great. Sit down then." He points to a chair, and you go to it. <a data-passage="1.09.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"So, explain what's going on. Headaches? Nausea? Cramps?" "Sharp pains," you admit, "they start in my chest, my heart. And then spread, fading after a while before it happens again. It dies down after a while, though." Part of you almost wishes to add in all the symptoms that have formed due to Tyrae's hand but something tells you that would be foolish. "How painful?" "I feel like I can't breathe. My body goes still, and I feel like death is calling." "Ooh, scary," he mumbles. <<if $nour <40>>You spot Nour stiffen, glaring at the man with narrowed eyes. The old man turns to you<<else>>He turns to you<</if>>, "when did it start?" "This morning." "Look at you, trying to stay on top of your health. It might not be serious. Something you ate." "Or it could be life-threatening," Nour growls. "It's your ruho," the shaman reminds, shrugging as he wipes something wet against your forehead and you move away. "Calm down," he grumbles, rubbing whatever the ointment is on his forehead as well. He sits on the ground and closes his eyes. "Whatever happens. Let it. I will be unable get a read if you fight me." You're unsure what that means, but you do your best to embrace his advice of 'letting it happen.' You sit back and close your eyes, practicing your breathing when it all goes dark. <a data-passage="1.10N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
A flash of color. A voice and touch. And a broken child with terrorized $eyes colored eyes. <img src="images/divider.png"> <<nobr>>\<<set $mc +=1>><</nobr>>\ //"Kii! Wot!" you scream, gripping the metallic bars and dragging yourself closer to them. Your body feels bruised, like a living wound left to fester in the coldest place of the planet—no one to answer your scream. In a way, it feels as if your own soul has left you, tired of losing this fight and finally breaking free. You shudder as the tears form a puddle around your chin. "I'm sorry," you pant in a hoarse tone, not knowing what else to say. This has to be your fault. This terror you're living in is your own doing. You fell. You broke yourself. You are now lying here, screaming for parents that will not come. The pain hits you once again, and this time you vomit, blood spewing out and coating the floor. Your vision swims, the image duplicating itself and then swaying in a sickly fashion. You're going to die, aren't you? They sent you away and to here? You didn't want to go through this alone.// <a data-passage="1.10.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//The need to curl into a ball is budding, a small ball to shield you from the world. It is much too cold here — much too dark and empty. "Nour?" you scream out or believe you do anyway. In the past, he was always there for you. He would come running at even the slightest hint of his name being called. Standing there like a beacon, ready to defend or save you. Whatever it takes. He was your best friend, and even during the most painful part of your life, he was your strength. And you didn't even get to say goodbye. With the last bit of stubbornness within you, you focus all of your remaining energy into transforming. The action comes easy enough, your form shifting as you take on that of a juvenile phoenix. Your torn wings weakly greet you, and before you can think twice about flapping them, they turn to ash. The shift in balance sees you falling, and you lie there, not knowing what else to expect. Your heart aches with the pain of a thousand prickles. Burned and discarded. Just as weak as you. "I don't want to die," you whisper amongst the ashes. But there is no answer. From then on, there never was.// <a data-passage="1.11N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> You shoot forward, hyperventilating. Your nails dig into the chair, bleeding as you finally force yourself out of that dream … no, flashback. Before, you did not remember. But now, it comes back to you. The feeling of death accepting you. Your body shriveling, cold, and alone. And then Tyrae came. Tyrae came and helped you to your feet, telling you that it would be alright. She said that one day you won't remember any of the pain. And she was right, though you suppose that no longer holds true. "$name, look at me," Nour shouts, and you do. Finally realizing that they are right there in front of you. You remember them too, but hardly. No, you recall a name. And a feeling. But that is it. At least you know that they aren't lying. They are from your past; that much is true. You realize that their hands are grasping your face, their eyes full of anguish. [[“I'm here.”|N1.11Here]] [[“You weren't there.”|N1.11WerentThere]] [[“I don't want to die!”|N1.11ToDie]]
"I'm here. It's okay, I'm here." You withdraw away from their touch, the freedom allowing you to breathe even more now. "What did you see? Where did you go?" "A flashback, I think," you tell them, refusing to think about it. You wish that memory out of all others had remained buried, lost to the sands, "something I had forgotten." "That's possible?" they question. <<include "1.11.1N">>
"You weren't there," you find yourself saying, your mouth working on its own accord. Even your mind screams for you to stop. "What?" they question, drawing back and releasing you. "I was alone. I was dying, and you weren't there." Tears shed as a child haunt you, and they make their way down your cheeks, "I called out for you, and you weren't there." "I'm here now," they growl, bringing you close and clutching you like you will vanish if they let up. "I'm not going anywhere. I swear it." You allow this. You need this. This is something that past you, the child version, did not receive but greatly needed. <<include "1.11.1N">>
"I don't want to die," you find yourself saying, still dragging yourself out of the flashback and back into reality. You blink a couple times, removing yourself from Nour's touch and attempting to ground yourself. "Look at me. You won't. You're fine. Can you breathe with me?" You believe you nod and observe them, inhaling when they inhale and exhaling slowly. A few more times and you find yourself breathing like usual. <<include "1.11.1N">>
Spiros clears his throat, gaining both of your attention and then nodding over at the shaman who has taken a spot behind a desk. "Do you want the bad news or the good?" "Seriously?" Nour growls, and the shaman simply shrugs. [[“The good.”|N1.11.1Good][$positive +=5]] [[“The bad.”|N1.11.1Bad][$positive -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> You give Nour a look before replying, "the good." "The good news is that I didn't see whatever you saw, so your privacy is still your own. But I did figure out what the problem is." "And?" Nour further inquires, "then what's the bad?" "I asked which one you want, and I gave it. The other is going to cost you extra." "The good news was hardly news! It was simply you speaking aloud." "You asked for the good news, and I gave it. Do you want the bad or not?" Before you can remark, Nour throws two more ruho down unto the desk, "tell us." <a data-passage="1.11.2N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> You give Nour a look before replying, "the bad." "The bad news is that your health is rapidly deteriorating. If I had to guess, you're not going to survive to see Celesow." "What's the sickness?" Nour shouts unexpectedly, their entire body shaking. "That's the thing. There isn't one. This is natural, something in your blood from what I could gather." Nour is speechless, "is … is there something we can do?" "Some simple remedies may slow it down, but like I said. This is natural. Only the gods can cure that." "And the good news?" you ask, your voice oddly calm. "I asked which one you want, and I gave it. The other is going to cost you extra." Before you can remark, Nour throws two more ruho down unto the desk, "tell us." <a data-passage="1.11.2N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if hasVisited("N1.11.1Good")>>\ The shaman grins, "well. The bad news is that your health is rapidly deteriorating. If I had to guess, you're not going to survive to see Celesow." "What's the sickness?" Nour shouts, their entire body shaking. "That's the thing. There isn't one. This is natural, something in your blood from what I could gather." Nour is speechless, "is … is there something we can do?" "Some simple remedies may slow it down, but like I said. This is natural. Only the gods can cure that." "No!" they shout, pounding the desk, and no one appears the least bit surprised, "there has to be something." "You asked and paid. And I gave. I wouldn't lie." Nour still refuses to accept this, and Spiros is forced to intercept them, dragging them towards the door while Nour tells him to release them. You watch before approaching the door, finding yourself shaking as you get closer. <<else>>\ The shaman grins, "the good news is that I didn't see whatever you saw, so your privacy is still your own." The room is silent until Nour brandishes a blade. "I will cut you down, you fiend." Spiros intercepts them, dragging them towards the door while Nour continues to shout obscenities. You watch before approaching the door, finding yourself shaking as you get closer. <</if>>\ "A month to live?" you question, <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>your nails digging into your palm as you clench your fist.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>your heart beating irregularly as you attempt to keep your emotions under control.<<else>>though you don't turn to face the man.<</if>> "You have my condolences. Truly." You leave the building. Condolences will get you nowhere. Freedom, hope, all of those things are lies. You are still in that tower, forever trapped and broken just like that child. <a data-passage="1.12N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The slight wintry air is the first thing to greet you. Though you presume that Smoten is soon approaching. You vaguely remember the numerous events that your people celebrate. Smoten is the month of the phoenix. The heat against your wings and the sun looking down at you with pride. It's fitting that your last Smoten be met by snow and cold. An eternal winter. Your gaze shifts over to your two companions, Spiros making wild gestures with his hands to Nour, who scantily pays attention to him. When they see you approach, they abandon his side and make their way to you. Before Nour intercepts you, you catch the dark look that Spiros directs exclusively towards the two of you, shaking his head before marching off. "We will figure this out. Trust me, okay. This isn't the end. We'll get a second opinion. Visit a healer … something." [[“What's wrong with Spiros?”|N1.12WrongWithSpiros]] [[“How can you be so sure?”|N1.12HowCanYou]] [[“A month.”|N1.12AMonth]]
"What's wrong with Spiros?" For a moment, Nour appears confused. Turning to look over their shoulder before focusing back on you. "Nothing. Don't worry about him. Just focus on yourself." "But I don't want to," you tell them honestly. You've focused on yourself and the pain that leaks out of you like lava from an active volcano. Since you were ten, you've done nothing but focus on yourself and after all this time, where has it gotten you? You are still broken. Still defeated. And in the end, you are going to die. "If you won't," Nour tells you in an assuring voice, "then I will." <<include "1.12.1N">>
"How can you be so sure? He had no reason to lie." "Some people are just vile. You know that. The fact that I found you in a dungeon is proof enough." "But everyone has a reason, right?" "No," Nour growls, shaking their head, "that's not always the case. Some people are malicious because they can be. And reason or not, it gives no one the right." <<if $positive >=50>>You nod your head, knowing that was the case, but your insides reject the idea. Why would someone be so vile just because they could? With no reason and no motive whatsoever? Perhaps you wished for there to be a reason simply to explain it, for without then, you were at a loss. You were merely the unfortunate target and nothing more.<<else>>"Then what's to say that the next person isn't the same? Or the one after that?" Nour is unable to answer, staring into your eyes, but you glance away. There's too much running around in your thoughts. Too many demons creeping in, ready to ease you back down onto stone bedding.<</if>> <<include "1.12.1N">>
"A month," you repeat, "imagine all the things I will never be able to experience again." Try as you might, you can't think of anything. "No. Not a month. Listen to me, $name, we will find help." You move away from their touch. Still reeling at not only the part where you will not see the next month but also the part where you fail to imagine what you will miss. The smells, the scents, and sights. But would you really miss them? For fifteen years, you have lived a mundane life devoid of so much. Your memories, something that should be sacred, have been altered and ripped from you. What did you really have to lose? <<include "1.12.1N">>
"Look," Nour continues, "before you didn't have anyone to help you. Only people who wished to see you fail. Magic is strong. We will find a way to undo this." You say nothing, about to follow Spiros who has walked a few steps away before turning to wait for the two of you. But Nour stops you by grabbing your arm and turning you back to them. A numbing sensation sprouts from where they touched you and your heart slowly seems to shy away. It feels as if it says to you 'time is almost up.' Soon that pain will be back and any kind of contact will be met with a hiss. Nour's voice brings you back. "I need to know that you believe me, $name." [[“I do.”|N1.12.1Do][$nour -=5; $leery -=3; $trust +=3; $sad +=1; $positive +=3; $connection +=1]] [[“I don't.”|N1.12.1Dont][$nour +=5; $leery +=3; $trust -=3; $anger +=1; $positive -=3]] [[“I can't.”|N1.12.1Cant][$nour +=3; $numb +=1]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Naive ++ | Hopeful ++ | Trust ++</span><</if>> You nod, "I do." And though you have no reason not to, you truly believe that Nour is there to help you. That they won't rest until they find a way to save your life. And that alone manages to lift your spirits even a touch. They nod, "no matter what. I swear to you, on my life, we will find a way to save you." Nour looks like they wish to do something but after a moment of hesitation, decides against it and releases you. Instead, they give you a reassuring smile, allowing both of you to follow behind Spiros. <<include "1.13N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Leery ++ | Bleak ++ | Doubt ++</span><</if>> You sigh, "I don't." Part of you wants to. Wants to believe that this person's words are honest and that you can rely on them. But something deep refuses to. Tyrae said that she would help, that she would make you better. She has only furthered the damage. After all you learned, you do not have enough hope to think that Nour can do anything. It is fate, the will of the gods in action. Nour releases you, their mouth set in a grim line. "It's fine. Doesn't change anything. No matter what. I swear to you, on my life, we will find a way to save you." They turn and go. <<include "1.13N">>
So badly do you wish to offer them a sanguine smile that lights up your eyes as theirs did. To pull them close and confirm that with your life at stake, you will trust them with everything you have to give. But the sad truth is, you can't. You can't lie and say that you hold enough trust in your heart to accommodate them. You hardly have enough for yourself. This world, this life that you have been thrust into, does not inspire hope or trust, even with those who seem to mean well. Simply put, your heart can not take it. You shake your head dolefully, "I ... I can't." The glimmer of pride and ambition dies out in their eyes, and with a dejected smile, they nod, squeezing your arm before releasing you. "It's okay. I have enough hope for both of us, I have for a long time. I swear to you, on my life, we will find a way to save you." And with that declaration stated, they turn and follow after Spiros. <<include "1.13N">>
The village that once felt so alive now feels lifeless. And yet, people still loiter, and music continues to play though you find that it drones on. The intoxicating smells of food are less enticing and more fetid. You see Nour peer over at you numerous times, racking their brain for something to say before withdrawing. It is odd to watch the twinkle enter and leave their eyes so consistently, especially when their entire persona radiates said light. You struggle to remember them and not just the idea of them. Even in your flashback, you recall them being a beacon, the light that typically guided you out of the dark. You could have used that light all these years. <<if $connection >=1>>You stiffen at that thought. They came and saved you from the tower, they fulfilled their role as your beacon. Their words from earlier reverberate through your head. //"I swear to you, on my life, we will find a way to save you."// They are your one hope and the more you think about them, the more your heart seems to lift in belief.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.13.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Ser." You glance up and spot everyone else, appearing relaxed around one another, if not all friends, then they at least trusted each other profusely. "Everything okay?" Nour inquires, and Xeno nods. "They managed to secure three rooms. How would you like to split up?" Nour glances over at you, "we'll give one room to $name. Spiros, Xeno, and I will take one. Twins and Mikitas, you three in the other. Sound good?" [[“I can share a room as well.”|N1.13ShareARoom][$team +=5]] [[Say nothing.|N1.13SayNothing][$team -=5]]
"It's okay," you add, "I have no problem sharing a room as well." Nour raises a brow and though it is obvious that they wish to disagree, they seem to hold their tongue. "It's fine, Your Highness," Xeno replies, nodding with a good natured smile, "unlike you, we have all grown used to the company. We're all fine with the accomodations, please, enjoy your room." You don't respond but you let them go, each of them seeming to be in happy spirits. The only ones whose moods seem sour are yours and Nour's. Silently, you walk to the designated room. Nour opens the door for you, glancing over their shoulder to ask, "will you be okay alone?" [[“I'm always alone.”|N1.13AlwaysAlone][$positive -=5]] [[“I will be, no need to worry.”|N1.13NoNeedtoWorry][$positive +=5]]
You prepare for the looks you would surely receive for being the only one with a room to themselves but gain no such attention. They all nod and, in happy spirits, enter the inn. The only ones whose moods seem sour are yours and Nour's. Silently, you walk to the designated room. Nour opens the door for you, glancing over their shoulder to ask, "will you be okay alone?" [[“I'm always alone.”|N1.13AlwaysAlone][$positive -=5]] [[“I will be, no need to worry.”|N1.13NoNeedtoWorry][$positive +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> "I'm always alone," you tell them, walking into the room, "I'm used to it." Your first thought regarding the room is that the room in the tower is far grander. It feels like a shallow and shameful thought, and so you shake it from your mind. <<include "1.13.2N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> "I will be," you reassure them, "there's no need to worry." Your first thought regarding the room is that the room in the tower is far grander. It feels like a shallow and shameful thought, and so you shake it from your mind. <<include "1.13.2N">>
"I'll be … uh," they glance into the hall, "a few doors down. Just shout if you need me." Nour squeezes your arm, and that ghastly familiar pain returns, reminding you that your time is running out. By tomorrow, you will once again feel every touch. Nour, after a moment of continued lingering, starts to turn to go. //Tell them. Tell them about the touch. You must. When this returns it will be no simple task to so easily avoid.// [[Tell them.|N1.13Yes][$touch to 1]] [[Keep it to yourself and avoid their touch.|N1.13No][$touch to 2]] [[Keep it to yourself but hide your fear.|N1.13No][$touch to 3]]
You agree with your thoughts, and you call out before Nour can close the door behind them. "Yes?" they question, genuine surprise on their face at how fast you shouted for them. "There is ... there is more I must tell you about what happened to me." You are not at all shocked by how their face falls. A look of anger and fear appearing that you are glad is not directed at you. "What is it?" It takes a minute for you to confess, unsure why, until a single thought shines a light on the possible reasoning. You have craved to touch another for so long. To stop being completely ignored and to simply loved and wanted, and now you possibly have that and it will be ripped away from you forever. Without Tyrae, you will no longer experience the lapses where touch is not a foreign and frightening thing. And that knowledge rips at your heart. It is one thing to mentally understand it, but something completely different to admit it to another. "$name," Nour whispers, "it's okay. Focus on me." You do as they ask and nod. "Physical contact," you start, directing your attention to their hand, "causes a painful sensation." "What do you mean?" "Something about what Tyrae did causes me to feel an abundance of pain. As if my skin is so cold that it burns and ..." You wish to continue, you do, but it hurts. To be so close only to be slapped across the face and thrown away from the goal. So many nights spent dreaming of the day you will be free from this curse. So many days spent simply gazing at the servants as they hug or even lightly running your hand across the other and imagining what it would feel like to have another close. All of that was stricken down by Tyrae and her magic. The only familiar touch is hers, and it sickens you. "Hey, hey, hey," Nour starts, making sure not to touch you but direct you towards the bed. "It's okay. You do not have to say anything more. I will tell the others and make sure -" Their frown deepens as they think about something but shake their head, "you will be okay." "Thank you." They wave your thanks away and turn on their heel, their action feeling forced, as if they wished to stay but knew it better to go. The fact that they don't even utter a farewell tells you as much. <a data-passage="1.13.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
And yet, it will have to be. You have no intention of telling them about any of your symptoms. You're unsure if the reason why is due to pride or just not seeing a reason to do so. Or perhaps it is something even darker, something that your own psyche has pushed so far down that it refuses to acknowledge to others. What will they be able to do even if you divulge the truth? Nothing. <<if $touch is 2>>You will not say but you are confident that it will not be hard to avoid their touch altogether. When needed, you have applied such tactics in the tower, along with simply providing space at all times to make such escapes easier and more natural. That is what you will do here.<<else>>You have not yet mastered the art of hiding the pain but you have already began to walk the path. Yes, it won't be hard to grin and bear it so that you can at the very least, avoid the conversation. Clothes will help as well, you will need to be smart and perhaps crafty, but you can do it. Everything will be okay.<</if>> <<include "1.13.3N">>
Since being freed of your tower prison, you find yourself alone for the first time. Your thoughts are silent, and your body tired, similar to how you felt yesternight. Then, it was the adrenaline. All of it finally settling and leaving you far too tired to function correctly. Now, it is less due to your energy and more due to the amount of whirring your brain has gone through. You can't even think of all the things you have learned since waking. So, you don't. Instead, you focus on preparing for bed. You remove Nour's chlamys. [[Keep it close.|N1.13KeepClose]] [[Set it down.|N1.13SetDown]]
You run your hands along it, enjoying the soft yet sturdy texture of the chlamys. Though no longer right against your nose, the scent is still with you, and part of you can't bear to part with it. Not when it grounds you in such an odd way. <<if $trust >=50 or $connection >=1>>You are still unsure about your connection with Nour, but you know for sure that you trust them. And because of that, you are glad to still have a piece of them here.<<else>>You still don't know how you feel about Nour, and their effect on you is puzzling. For now, you won't let that boggle your mind.<</if>> You bring the piece of fabric close as you lay down, the darkness encroaching, but you feel as if a bit of light is within your grasp. <<include "1.14N">>
You place it on the end table. Closing your eyes and welcoming the darkness. But the darkness does not greet you with the same sincerity. <<include "1.14N">>
It's cold. The wind is unrelenting as it pounds into your anemic figure. You are once again a child, shivering and too weak to do anything more than breathe in the filth of the cell and swallow each agonizing spasm that racks your body. All through the night, you twist and turn, freeing yourself from one mental prison only to fall into another. It is an eternal cycle of torture, and with each loop, the pain becomes more familiar. Your growing cognition is not the only thing to rear itself. The pain becomes authentic, burning your lungs and rending you in two. It will consume you, and like every other time, you are incapable of stopping it. You let out a grieving howl just as you awake, and the pain in your chest subsides as if your outcry caused it to flee in fright. It is a feeling you are far too familiar with. So many nights, whether in bed or upon a stone floor, were spent with the same howlings. A need will follow. A need for something you have no name for but you can feel turning you inside out. It will slowly begin to dominate your thoughts, and only Tyrae can ease it. You choke, your mind backing itself into a corner. <a data-passage="1.14.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" you hear a drowsy voice question. "Nour? Where are you?" "I … uh," you hear a deep sigh follow the short silence, "I didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, so I decided to stay out here … in case you needed me. Or not me, something … Are you okay? I heard you shout." Your shoulders sag, "Nour, you should be in bed." <<if $nour <40>>"Don't worry about me. I've gone through more sleepless nights than you can count. Now, are you okay?"<<elseif $nour >70>>"Trust me. I'm where I want to be. Now answer the question, are you okay?"<<else>>"It's fine. During training, sometimes I was forced to stay up for days on end. But are you okay?"<</if>> "I will be." "Just know I'm here. Get some sleep if you can." [[Take that advice. It is wise.|N1.14Flashback]] [[Stay up. No point in doing something you can't.|N1.14StayUp]]
"Alright," you whisper. You lie back down and enact a ploy that you perfected in the tower. It is an odd way to dream, or more so not to dream, and it allows you to sleep. You drift right on the edge of consciousness. Enough to actually sleep, but the slightest thing will allow you to wake. And sure enough. It works. <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Disturbance"><img src="images/nour_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Disturbance" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
"No, I don't think I want to just yet." You are met by silence. "Well, then what?" You move closer to the door, placing your back against it as you breathe in deeply. There is a voice deep within that wishes to see Nour, to hold this familiar stranger close. You can imagine just how easily it would be to get lost in their protective and warm embrace. [[Ask for a story.|N1.14Story]] <<if $trust >=50>>[[Invite them in.|N1.14InviteIn][$connection +=1]]<</if>>
And just how dangerous that thought may be. Something about Nour is welcoming, yes. But your eagerness to lose yourself when they are near scares you. It causes you to shiver, and an astute voice warns you to be cautious. Regardless of them being a prominent figure of your past, they are still a stranger in your present. "Can you tell me a story? Not one about us or anything to do with the past. Just a story?" More silence. "I have one. Do you know what an eclipse is?" <<if $stars >=10>>\ "Yes. It's when the sun blocks the moon or the moon blocks the sun, right?" "Yea. <<else>>\ "No." "Well. It's rare, but it's when the moon and sun are both in the sky simultaneously, and they block the other out. Sometimes the sun is in front of the moon or the moon in front of the sun." <</if>>\ "The story is about how it came to be. You see, Sun and Moon loved each other. There was nothing Sun wished for more after a long day of shining his light than seeing his twin's smiling face. They not only lit the world for those of Jiwenia but each other as well. As time went on, they saw less and less of one another. After working, they needed their rest, and it kept the siblings from ever speaking. As soon as one went up, the other retired. It drove a dark and grievous wedge between them, neither daring to bring it up due to pride or sorrow. Yet both wished to fix it." Nour pauses as if collecting their thoughts, "but, one day, Sun had an idea. He didn't shine as bright that day, ignoring the questioning murmurs of those below. As Moon flew into the sky, ready to start her shift. He grabbed her and pulled her into a dance. Taken by surprise, Moon let Sun lead, completely ... at a loss over her brother's actions. By the time they ... allowing him to rest …" You hear less and less until you hear none. Your mind continues the story, though, picturing Sun and Moon twirling each other around in a darkened sky that threatens to be swallowed by stars. That night, you dance with Sun and Moon, all of you guided by the voice of Nour. <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Disturbance"><img src="images/nour_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Disturbance" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Neither you nor Nour will forget this.<</notify>><</if>>\ The thought warms you, and remembering that your touch sensitivity is not entirely back brings with it the realization that this may be your last night. The last night for you to ever feel another close. "Nour," you whimper, not meaning to call for them while crying, but you're unable to help it. You feel like that child from the flashback again. Trapped behind iron bars, cold and alone, and calling for a friend who was not there to answer. <<if $touch is 1>>\ Someone tries to open the door, and you move to let Nour in. Upon seeing your face, they instantly come to your side. Their face shifts from bewilderment to distress as they reach toward you but then jerk back, remembering what you had said about touching. "It's okay," you reassure, "for now. Tomorrow ..." you drift off. "Are you sure?" "Please," you say, opening your arms and immediately Nour is there, wrapping their arms around you. That numb feeling comes over you again but it does not linger and somehow, you feel no chill. You bury your face in Nour's chest, wishing they could truly chase away so much more. <<else>>\ Someone tries to open the door, and you move to let Nour in. Upon seeing your face, they instantly come to your side, wrapping their arms around you and pulling you close. That numb feeling comes over you again but it does not linger and somehow, you feel no chill. You bury your face in Nour's chest, wishing they could truly chase away so much more. <</if>>\ "Hey, I'm here. I'm here," they reassure you in a comforting tone, rubbing your back. "What can I do to make you feel better?" "Just be here," you whisper. "Alright. I can do that." You sit comfortably in the arms of someone you believe you can trust. They already saved you from the tower and Tyrae's madness. Perhaps they speak the truth. Perhaps they truly can save you from whatever illness has shortened your life. You choose to believe that they can. So much of your life has been chasing a fleeting hope, but perhaps it has not been running but leading you into Nour's arms. "Don't leave me," you mumble and freeze when their lips meet your forehead. "Never." Your heart yearns for something it doesn't truly understand or know. A feeling of giddiness enraptures you, much like that of a child being introduced to something wild and wonderous. A meekness in the face of something unexpected but possessing faith to fall without worry. Never before have you felt like you belonged somewhere, hungered for something as much as this. Even with the knowledge that this is ephemeral and tomorrow will bring momentous sadness. For tonight, you are wanted. And so there you sit, calming yourself while listening to Nour and what may be empty promises and statements. But you believe they are the foundations of something new. <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Disturbance"><img src="images/nour_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Disturbance" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<set $nc_2 = true; $xenocomealong = false; $table = false>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ //The world around you is blurry, whirring at speeds too quick for you to fathom or discern. Only one thing throughout it all is clear, and that is the constant dark color that persists. Even when other objects and colors blur past, that one thing is always there. You use that to ground yourself into the moment, suffering from a throbbing in your head soon after. When you open your eyes, you find a woman looking down at you with a curious gleam in her eye. "Move your fingers for me, $name," she orders, and though you wish to question her presence, you do as she says. They feel stiff, but otherwise, the action is painless. "Open your mouth." Again, you do as she asks. Her skin is a pale mauve tone, disrupted by harsh blemishes and aged scars. A rough life, your brain deduces, confirming said thought when her calloused hands move across your skin. She feels so cold, as if life has long since fled from her bones and found a different vessel to occupy. You seek out her eyes, and within the ecru-colored orbs lie a contorted glee and enthusiasm you have never seen before. Her eyes are soft, but the emotion opposes it, twisting and tainting it into something much more alarming. "Great, so no odd ramifications. Tell me, my dear, who am I?" It takes you a minute to answer her. Your brain has so many memories to piece together and place, but it feels like that of an abyss — vast yet empty. You compare it to that of a library, over-brimming with books and knowledge for a disquisitive mind to come and explore. But at the end of the day, that same mind walks away, absorbing no information and with no recollection of where the time has gone. Examining her face, you work your way through the people you did know and the names that reach for you. And finally, you find hers. "Tyrae?"// <a data-passage="2.01N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//"Excellent." Your answer brings a different sort of awareness to you. Abruptly, the world makes more sense, and you're far more aware of your surroundings. You're lying on a harsh slab, your wrists and ankles bound. This is not your room. You actually can't remember recognizing the place you are in at all. Bottles of elixirs and deserted papers lay strewn on countertops. Wisps and other creatures that seem far too ethereal exist in larger containers, flitting around in hopes of finding an exit. On one shelf, you notice rocks and other minerals, soil, and flowers. "What's going on? Why am I here?" "You can ask me questions soon. I just need to ask one more thing." She leans in, that gleam once again in her eyes. "Last week, you did something that garnered a lot of attention. What was it?" You think back, your brain working slowly to retrace your actions. The previous days are none too interesting, and past that, you remember doing your regular schedule. You had gotten in trouble with guards, you remember that much, but they had let you off with a warning, a generous response on their part. You go back further, your brain beginning to defect. No longer do solid and comprehensive thoughts and images come to you. These are blurred, losing color and meaning. You barely make out your shifting body as you race out a door and into a snowy landscape. The following memories blur until you once again can make out something, flying, or at least the attempt. But wings burn, and you land inelegantly in the snow, your past form weeping. You repeat this to Tyrae, and the gleam shifts to one of annoyance, and the otherwise sweet smile vanishes.// <a data-passage="2.01.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//She turns her back to you, "so it has only dimmed the memory. Perhaps a more potent dose will do … no," she paces, "that will not completely erase, just subdue it deeper into the subconscious." She continues to murmur to herself. This time, her words are said far too low to hear. She opens a notebook and begins to flip through it. "Baby steps, I suppose. No great thing was discovered and perfected in a day." She turns to you, the air whistling with magic as she grabs a vial and approaches. "So, we start again. But for now, I need you dormant." She forces your mouth open, and the contents of the vial rush past your tongue and down your throat. There, it stops and expands, coating the sides. It feels as if it's crawling northward, back towards your mouth, but the feeling doesn't stop there. It feels as if it continues on to your head. Your awareness catches up with you, and everything freezes.// [[Stop this.|N2.01Stop][$memory -=5; $mc +=1]] [[Continue the memory.|N2.01Continue][$memory +=5; $mc +=1]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Present ++</span><</if>> You don't want to see the rest or experience it. Why would you? You thrash against not just that which binds you but the memory that grips your shoulders. You scream and command to be released. <<include "2.02N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Past ++</span><</if>> Moving your awareness to the side, you press for the memory to continue on. You need to understand what was done, and if that means reliving this torture, then so be it. //The concoction spreads through your head, and you scream. It feels like a hundred tiny hands are clawing and pinching at your flesh, trying their hardest to break the skin and free themselves from their prison. A loud buzzing starts, and you feel as if someone has just placed a burning iron rod against your temple. The pain becomes so unbearable that you don't even recognize it. It prances back and forth between numb and oppressive. One minute it wishes for you to feel every inch of the torment, and another, it chooses to save you from the agony and replaces it with a form of paralysis. Your body can no longer take it, and it falls into darkness.// <<include "2.02N">>
"$name!" Nour shouts, and you glance up to see both them and Xeno now standing in your room. You glance around and find that you have landed on the floor, your body sweating and your breath escaping you in quick heaves. Though the room is chilly, you feel as if you had just visited the sun and basked in its light for an entire day. Nour takes a step closer, but Xeno grabs their arm, shaking his head and causing Nour to relent. "Are you okay?" You choose to nod, bidding the images of your latest remembered memory to leave you. Exactly how many memories did Tyrae toy with and attempt to erase? Is this why you can place them, because she never truly learned how to rid you of them? The question on your mind is, what are they buried under? False memories, or did you simply have to travel through a desolate void to reach them? But then why now? After years of her toying with you, only now are you actually realizing that the haze you thought natural, is anything but. "There is an unoccupied washroom ready for you," Xeno tells you, his grip on Nour's arm still there as he steers both of them towards the door, "fresh clothes for you are there as well. Once done, you should join us for breakfast." With that, he closes the door, and you find yourself alone once again. <a data-passage="2.02.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Sighing, you pick yourself up off the ground and head to the washroom Xeno told you of. Relief floods through you upon entry at seeing steam rising off the water in a full tub. You strip down, catching sight of your reflection in the lone mirror that occupies the room. <<if $scar is "shouder" or $scar is "chest">>Your eyes go past your features, stopping on one in particular. This one you weren't born with, but it feels like it has been with you all your life. <<if $scar is "shoulder">>A girthy, serrated scar whose beginning starts on the back of the shoulder before cresting over and ending near your collar bone.<<else>>A girthy, serrated scar that stretches across your chest.<</if>><<else>>You don't quite understand what possesses you but you turn to glance upon the girthy, serraated scar that claims your back.<</if>> A constant reminder of the day where everything in your life turned to ashes. [[You wished Tyrae had taken that memory.|N2.02NegMem][$memory -=5]] [[It isn't a happy one but it is yours.|N2.02ProMem][$memory +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Present ++</span><</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.02IgnoreReflection")>>Out of all the memories that she toyed with, why hadn't she taken those from you? Each one tainted and shrouded in darkness. Was it to simply get you to a place where there were no longer any warm memories and nothing but the dark ones? Could she be so specific?<<else>>Out of all the memories that she had toyed with, why hadn't she taken that one from you? Wouldn't that be the prize? It causes you to question her motives even more, as well as feel a sting in your gut at ever wishing for such a thing — but your resolve does not shift. Disregarding the ethics or the trauma, you wouldn't be against it …<</if>> <<include "2.02.2N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Past ++</span><</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.02IgnoreReflection")>>The memories hold nothing but horror and you would be lying if you said you didn't wish to be without them. But you also believed there to be a difference between not experiencing something and then having someone alter your mind. The latter you would rather not go through.<<else>>Despite the horror of the memory, it is your memory; no amount of negative or positive emotion will change that. That memory affected and changed you, and for that idea alone, you don't wish to part with it.<</if>>\ <<include "2.02.2N">>
Shaking the thought from your mind and wishing not to think of it any longer, you enter the bath and relax. You scrub the tower life from your skin and consider how reasonable that belief is. Will this indeed be the first step into a brighter future? As soon as the thought comes to you, the events of yesterday seek to remind you of what will soon befall you. You are sick and dying. Every step that you take is not towards a bright future but towards the end of your life. The brightness begins to dim, and you finish up. They supplied you with a typical dull white cotton shirt with eyelets, dark brown trousers that surprisingly fit you, and a pair of villager boots. You grab Nour's chlamys upon reminding yourself about the possible implications of others seeing your face. You're not exactly sure how to wrap it but you make do, telling yourself you'll ask for further guidance later. <<if hasVisited("N1.14InviteIn")>>Thinking of Nour causes you to linger on the previous night. Their arms around you, their lips upon your forehead. The safety and comfort you felt. Your hands tangle together and you thoughts venture to dare to believe that you will be able to feel them close once again. You do not want to be without that again.<</if>> Once finished, you head to the inn's dining area. Upon entry, you realize that the inn is treated not only as a weary place for those traveling but also as a community area for those seeking a hearty breakfast. A cluster of people sit at the tables, boorishly laughing with one another as they shovel a variety of food into their mouths. Spotting Nour's group is easy; their bright golden chlamys' could not possibly be hidden. You near their table, finally able to block out the other conversations and listen to theirs. <a data-passage="2.03N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Mikitas throws her head back as she laughs, "and then he just fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness. As if we were going to behead him for simply being an arrogant cub." The entire table laughs in response. Nour sighs wistfully, "how could I have missed this?" "You were too busy doing heir things," Thana giggles as she throws back her drink, causing you to grow curious about what they serve, "whatever that is." [[Sit down at their table.|N2.02SitDown][$team +=10; $table = true; $trust +=2]] [[Find a table for yourself.|2.02FindATable][$team -=10; $trust -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> Though you're unsure whether they will welcome you to the table or not, you decide that the worse thing to do is not ask. You approach and nod a greeting to all of those seated, "may I join you?" Before the words are even entirely out your mouth, Nour shuffles over, giving you enough space and then some. They are far closer to Xeno, but they don't seem to mind, and though you didn't ask for space, you are grateful for it. <<if hasVisited("N1.14InviteIn")>>Sitting, <<if $touch is 1>>Nour makes sure that they do not accidentally touch you but it is more than obvious how much pain that causes them. They offer you a faint smile.<<elseif $touch is 2>>you make sure to add enough space between you and Nour. Though you appreciate yesterday, you know that it cannot be repeated until a solution is found. Nour at least doesn't seem to mind, offering you a warm smile.<<else>>Nour's hand gently rubs against your arm and you are given your answer to the question regarding your touch sensitivity. It is back. You manage a light smile, hiding the slight pain it caused and grateful that Nour hadn't tried to truly touch you. They offer you a warm smile in return.<</if>><</if>> "Those clothes are a much better sight," Thana adds, motioning to what you now don, "but you know what you'll really look good in? Griffin colors." "There's not a soul around who wouldn't look better in our colors," Mikitas shouts, having to be hushed by Idreialis. He chuckles as Mikitas waves him off, "I can think of a few who would not. But I'm also glad to see that the clothes fit. We were unsure if they would. As well as if you would even wish for a change in clothes." "Of course, ?he would," Thana snorts, "who would want to walk around in those rags? Not to mention that they were given to ?him by that dreadful place. If I were you, I'd burn them as soon as possible." "That's because you like to burn things, regardless of what it is," her twin mumbles, and the two soon engage in an argument that sounds like it is more for the sake of one-upping the other. You shift uncomfortably, understanding this is a playful fight, but you don't know how to react. The others ignore them, even Xeno, who has proven to be the mediator of the group, or at least the one who keeps them focused. "You learn to ignore them," Nour whispers to you, "either that or you instigate their fighting." They snicker at the latter, and you have a feeling that Nour has done such a thing many times. "But let us focus on you. You must be hungry. Do you still eat meat?" [[“Not really. Mainly fruits and vegetables.”|N2.03Vegan][$vegan = true]] [[“Yes, but fish.”|N2.03Pesca][$pesca = true]] [[“I do.”|N2.03IDo]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> Not wishing to interrupt their conversation and certainly not in the mood for company, you search for a table that no one occupies. Spotting one in the far corner, you travel to it, waiting patiently for one of the servitors to make their way to you. "Didn't wish for company?" You glance up and see Nour looking down at you. They don't look surprised or hurt by your choice. Instead, they seem curious, wishing to unlock secrets you yourself wish to never learn. "I have a lot on my mind," you tell them. <<if hasVisited("N1.14InviteIn")>>\ "Did I do something wrong last night?" You're unsure what they are alluding to until your eyes meet theirs and you see a light hint of red upon their cheeks. "No," you reassure them, glancing over at the others before focusing back on Nour. "I still don't know how I truly feel about all of this yet." They sit down in one of the spare seats and lean forward, desperation dotting their eyes, "you can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you. Despite whether you come to trust me or not, I need you to know that." <<elseif $connection >=1>>\ "Did I do something wrong?" "No," you reassure them, frowning at your own words. "I still don't know how I truly feel about all of this yet." They sit down in one of the spare seats and lean forward, desperation dotting their eyes, "you can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you. Despite whether you come to trust me or not, I need you to know that." <<else>>\ "You really don't trust us, do you?" "I see no reason to. Not yet anyway." They sit down in one of the spare seats and lean forward, desperation dotting their eyes, "you can. I would never do anything to hurt you. Despite whether you come to trust me or not, I need you to know that." <</if>>\ [[“I believe you.”|N2.03Believe][$trust +=3; $nour -=5]] [[“We'll see.”|N2.03See]] [[“What's good to eat here?”][$trust -=3; $nour +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> You offer Nour a warm smile, "I believe you. I simply need time to come to grips with everything. I feel as if the only moment I've had to breathe was yesterday when venturing the town, and that felt fleeting." "No need to explain," they interrupt, holding up their hand while offering you a smile that matches your own, "I don't understand, but I do. If that makes sense." You nod, and both of your attention shifts to your growling stomach. "We can easily fix that problem at least," they chuckle, "do you know what you want? You still eat meat, right?" [[“Not really. Mainly fruits and vegetables.”|N2.03Vegan][$vegan = true]] [[“Yes, but fish.”|N2.03Pesca][$pesca = true]] [[“I do.”|N2.03IDo]]
"We'll see. I have learned that actions speak volumes. More than words ever could." Tyrae flashes through your mind and even a blurred image of your parents. You wonder if that is even their face, it could be a manipulated memory or just what you hope they look like. It has been quite some time since you've seen them. <<if $touch is 1>>\ Nour leans in, wishing to touch you but stops and sends you an apologetic look, "you must be hungry. Do you know what you want to eat?" "What do they have?" You spot the menu hanging up on the far wall just as you ask and decide to examine it. <<elseif $touch is 2>>\ Nour leans in, and anticipating their move, you move your hand from the table. "What do they have here to eat?" You spot the menu hanging up on the far wall just as you ask and decide to examine it, getting a glimpse of their bewildered expression out of the corner of your eye. <<else>>\ Nour leans in, covering your hand with theirs. Your eye twitches as you send them a thankful smile but move your hand to your side. "What do they have here to eat?" <</if>>\ "It depends on what you like to eat. You still eat meat, right?" [[“Not really. Mainly fruits and vegetables.”|N2.03Vegan][$vegan = true]] [[“Yes, but fish.”|N2.03Pesca][$pesca = true]] [[“I do.”|N2.03IDo]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> <<nobr>>\ <<if $connection >=1>> <<set $connection -=1>> <</if>> <</nobr>>\ Clearing your throat and not wishing to give Nour an answer, you nod at the menu that rests on the far wall. "What did you all order to eat?" For a few seconds more, they continue to stare at you, attempting to figure out what they have to do to get you to believe them. Soon, they sigh and shake their head, "it depends on what you like to eat. You still eat meat, right?" [[“Not really. Mainly fruits and vegetables.”|N2.03Vegan][$vegan = true]] [[“Yes, but fish.”|N2.03Pesca][$pesca = true]] [[“I do.”|N2.03IDo]]
"No, it's not that I can't eat it, but I try to avoid it as much as possible. I mainly eat fruit and vegetables now." They nod, getting the attention of one of the servers and motioning them over. "A fruit bowl, please." The server nods and performs a quick bow before speedily walking off. "I shouldn't be surprised," Nour hums with amusement, "as kids, you never truly liked meat either. You always argued with the chefs. Only eating it when your father begged you and your mother properly persuaded you with how much a growing phoenix needed it." <<include "2.03.1N">>
"Kind of. I eat meat but only fish now." They nod, getting the attention of one of the servers and motioning them over. "Do you happen to serve fish pie?" The server nods and performs a quick bow before speedily walking off. "I shouldn't be surprised," Nour hums with amusement, "as kids, you always went for the seafood dishes. Lucky for you and not so much for me, you always had a second helping since I cared nothing for it." <<include "2.03.1N">>
You provide a simple reply, "I do." They nod, getting the attention of one of the servers and motioning them over. "Your breakfast special, please." The server nods and performs a quick bow before speedily walking off. "It's small," Nour whispers, a grin tugging at the corner of their mouth, "but I am almost relieved that you still do. There's so much about you I feel like I don't know anymore. It's nice to know that some things have stayed the same. No matter how trivial." <<include "2.03.1N">>
They frown, "so, after yesterday, I didn't get a chance to ask, and I wasn't sure if it was the right time. But, do you remember?" You shake your head and glance away, not wishing to see what kind of emotion deluge their eyes, "no. It was a flashback, but I was alone. I know you're from my past, and I know that I should know you and that we were close. But that's about it." "This is good, though. It means that maybe there's hope, right?" <<if $positive >=50>>You offer them a half-hearted smile<<else>>You don't answer<</if>><<if $table>>, choosing to tune back into the conversation of the table.<<else>>.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.03.2N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $table>>\ They speak about what you can only presume is their home. Painting pictures of sprawling prairie lands and towering rock formations that spring from the ground. They talk of numerous cities sitting snuggly within those very same formations, carved from clay and rock, and a testament to the hardiness of the people who call it home. Their fondness is evident, and you wonder if your own homeland is how you left it. You remember dense forests where leaves are always brilliant shades of red, orange, and brown regardless of the season. Waterfalls are not an odd scene to come by, and neither are volcanoes, some the size of a hill, while others overlook the entire valley. In a way, you find yourself homesick for a place you no longer feel is your own, and envious at those occupying the table. They each remember so clearly their beloved home, and for them it's just that, a home. You once believed that home was merely your own soul. But then it was tampered with and became a stranger. <<else>>\ You notice Nour's team frequently glancing over at you, whispering to one another before sparing another glance. It is unlikely that you are gaining any approval with them, even more so because you have caused Nour to come over. You clear your throat, "you don't need to stay. I'll be okay." "It's fine," they quickly say. "Nour. I … want to be alone." You're not sure about the truth of those words. Part of you relishing the affable companionship that Nour constantly brings with them. But the other part of you would rather be left alone if only to think things through and not have to worry about whether you are accommodating. Releasing a deep sigh, they stand and head back to their table, their team immediately leaning in, probably wishing to know what has been said and why they returned. Perhaps they see you as the bad guy. The ungrateful phoenix rescued by their childhood friend, and yet seems to resent it all. <</if>>\ Thankfully, your food is delivered soon after, and you eat quietly, stuck in your own thoughts for the time being. It is only when Nour clears their throat that you realize where you are and that your plate is no longer in front of you. A server must have come by to grab it. <<if $table>>You also notice that the others are no longer near, and there is no sign of them in the dining hall.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.03.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Today, we'll be visiting a temple. Hopefully, to get more answers about your condition and what can be done." "But the shaman -" you begin, and Nour quickly silences you with an irritated glance. "I don't care what that shaman said," they visibly deflate, "what's wrong with getting a second opinion? The shaman used spirits, so maybe we can do the same." [[“You're challenging fate.”|N2.03ChallengingFate]] [[“What do I have to lose?”|N2.03HaveToLose][$positive +=5]] [[“I can't handle more disappointment?”|N2.03Disappointment][$positive -=5]]
"You're beginning to challenge fate. And one thing I have learned is that the <<link 'elytzi'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The elytzi is a group that is neither Celestial Deity nor High God. They exist in the elysian plane and are not known to travel to the mortal plane, unlike the other spirits. It is believed that, like all minor deities and spirits, they owe their creation to the High Gods, but even this is not certain. There are three Elytzi: En, Fate, and Chronos.<</dialog>><</link>>, especially Fate, doesn't like to be questioned." "So I should recognize this as how it must be? With no attempt to challenge or shift it? No. And you shouldn't either. Why am I fighting this more than you?" <<if $spirit >=50>>"Do not word that as if I have never fought to change my future. I've fought against currents for half of my life, and they have led me here. A body isn't the only thing that grows weary after constant fighting."<<else>>"I'm tired Nour," you admit, "and I've been tired for a long time. I've stopped fighting. Sorry, if that's not what you wish to hear."<</if>> <<if $touch is 1>>\ Nour reaches for your hand before realizing their mistake and withdrawing. "This is different. You're no longer fighting alone." <<elseif $touch is 2>>\ Nour reaches for your hand but thankfully you notice the movement and slide your hand into your lap. You behave as if you hadn't realized what they are doing. They look as if they wish to say something but shake their head. "This is different. You're no longer fighting alone." <<else>>\ Nour reaches and grabs your hand, causing you to internally whimper as you grit your teeth. You school your face as you nod and slowly move your hand away from their toxic touch, controlling your breathing. "This is different. You're no longer fighting alone." <</if>>\ <<if $positive >=50>>\ With a sigh, you nod and manage a hopeful smile, "I have my reservations, but I want to believe that you're right. And like you said, there's no reason not to try." Joy lights up Nour's features at your words, and you find yourself thinking that you wouldn't mind seeing this kind of brightness more often. "One of us will come and get you when we're ready to go. Don't forget to grab my cloak to mask your face." "Will we be back?" you ask, and they nod as they leave you, a simple yet noticeable skip in their step. <<else>>\ "It still doesn't matter. If you ever wish to walk away, you can. The only thing you will suffer from is self-inflicted negativity and doubt. I, on the other hand, will always suffer directly. Fighting or not." No matter how confident and steadfast Nour is, your words hold a truth that not even their staunch personality can rightly argue. They take a step back and nod, "we'll leave in a few minutes. Don't forget to grab my cloak to mask your face." And then they promptly walk away, leaving you alone. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> With a nod and a shrug to accompany it, you say, "why not? I don't think we have anything to lose from going." Joy lights up Nour's feature, and you find yourself thinking that you wouldn't mind seeing this kind of brightness more often, "thank you." It is almost as if you had given them permission to go and do something they enjoyed, and not that you had merely agreed to go and learn more about your predicament. A predicament that only affects you. Or no, that mindset can no longer be accurate. Though they are not going through the same thing as you, that didn't mean they would be unaffected by your passing. In the short time that you have known Nour, you have come to realize that your death would destroy them. You frown but shake the idea from your head. It would be a conversation that you would bring up later, not now. "One of us will come and get you when we're ready to go." "Will we be back?" you ask, and they nod as they leave you, a simple yet noticeable skip in their step. <a data-passage="2.04N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> You run your hand down your face, looking into the distance as negative thoughts plague your mind. "Nour … I, I can't handle more disappointment. I don't want to be told yet again what I heard yesterday. I can't handle it." "Then I will speak to them privately. But I don't want to lose this chance. You're right, it could be the same thing we already heard, or it could be something good, something that can help. Shouldn't you want to take that chance?" You shrug, not wishing to say no but also not believing that yes is truly what you want. The action seems to appease Nour enough that they at least drop the line of questioning and take a step back. "We'll leave in a few minutes." And then they promptly walk away, leaving you alone. <a data-passage="2.04N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With that, you head back up to the room and prepare yourself for the trip to the temple. You tell yourself to organize your things, but a quick look around the sparse room tells you that you have nothing more than the cloak given to you by Nour. A possession that isn't even yours at the end of the day. Wandering outside, you spot Nour off to the side, looking to be in a heated discussion with Xeno; both of them brighten when they see you. "I'm glad you're here," Xeno does a slight bow to accompany his greeting, "I ask for your help in telling this stubborn cub that they need to choose an escort to accompany the two of you to the temple." "Stubborn cub," Nour snorts, "now I really feel like I'm twelve years old again. I don't need an escort. I'm an adult who can fight for themselves." They point to you, "plus I have $name. Aren't they escort enough?" "No offense to ?His Highness but ?he <<verb "has">> no combat skills or knowledge. So no, ?he <<verb "is">> not an appropriate escort." "Good thing I have both then," Nour huffs, using their tail to cause the sword at their hip to shift, "and look, I even have a weapon. Do you want me to guess which end the pointy tip goes into." Xeno grits his teeth, refusing to pay Nour the attention that they seem to hope for. His eyes land on you. "Your Highness, please." [[“I don't see why they need one.”|N2.04WhyNeedOne][$team -=5]] [[“He's right, Nour.”|N2.04XenoRight][$xenocomealong = true; $team +=5]] [[“Can't you just follow anyway?”|N2.04JustFollow][$xenocomealong = true]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Xeno disagrees with you. Your words will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ You shrug, shaking the chlamys at Nour to get their attention. Realizing what you are silently asking for, they approach and begin to weave it around your head. You look to Xeno, "I don't see why they need one. The temple is on the outskirts of the town, so we won't be far." He rubs his forehead, mumbling something under his breath about stubbornness. "Xeno, I'm not the ten-year-old child you were teaching techniques to. I can handle what comes." "I do not look at you like that child, Nour. You're one of the best fighters I've ever seen, but that's beside the point. You're also royalty, and therefore you need an escort." "One would think you'd be used to it by now," you point out, looking towards Nour, who rolls their eyes and grimaces. "Their sister abdicated the throne only recently, meaning Nour was stuck with only me, not a contingency of guards like they are now," Xeno informs you, "but I agree. One would think they'd be used to it by now." "Well, I'm not. Being alone is sometimes a need. Will you respect my wishes?" Xeno nods. <a data-passage="2.04.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Xeno is glad you agree. Your words will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ "He's right, Nour. One of them should at least come with us, even if you know how to fight. Putting your life in that kind of danger isn't wise. I'd feel safer as well." They roll their eyes as Xeno straightens up, smiling at Nour with a look of contentment in his gaze. "You wouldn't feel safe with just me?" Nour inquires, they said such thing in a teasing way, but their skill at hiding their emotion is abhorrent. It is evident that your lack of agreement has hit them personally. "One would think you'd be used to it by now," you point out, looking towards Nour, who rolls their eyes and grimaces. "Their sister abdicated the throne only recently, meaning Nour was stuck with only me, not a contingency of guards like they are now," Xeno informs you, "but I agree. One would think they'd be used to it by now." "Well, I'm not. Being alone is sometimes a need. Will you respect my wishes?" Xeno shakes his head, "I am coming. And that is the end of the discussion. Weep and moan as you must." <a data-passage="2.04.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Your words will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ "Does it matter what I say? You could just follow behind us regardless and stay out of sight." Nour throws Xeno a look that dares him to try such a thing, and as a result, Xeno simply sighs. "Yes, I can. But I was trying to be forthright in my actions." "Same as you and the others, I like my privacy," Nour informs. "Be that as it may. I like knowing that my soon-to-be Ruler, not to mention, my friend, is not in any danger that my presence could deter." "One would think you'd be used to it by now," you point out, looking towards Nour, who rolls their eyes and grimaces. "Their sister abdicated the throne only recently, meaning Nour was stuck with only me, not a contingency of guards like they are now," Xeno informs you, "but I agree. One would think they'd be used to it by now." "Well, I'm not. Being alone is sometimes a need. Will you respect my wishes?" Xeno doesn't answer, turning to head back inside. <a data-passage="2.04.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Also, Xeno," he pauses and glances over at you, "you don't have to use honorifics with me." He blushes and clears his throat, "that's quite alright." He doesn't necessarily state whether he will stop using such titles or not before walking away<<if $xenocomealong>> to prepare for the short walk.<<else>>.<</if>> "There's no point," Nour shares, "in griffin culture, using honorifics is more than just about respect. It's as important as one's own name most times. Not to mention Xeno grew up in a military household. He'd cut his own tongue out before he'd stop." "Do they still use honorifics with you?" "Xeno, at times. The others, not really. But I'm more sure that's because they were with me when I went <<link 'yaffalo'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The yaffalo has the body and build of both a yak and buffalo, and the attitude of a hot-tempered rhino. Typically, the creature is passive and due to its calm temperament many use the creature as cattle and transportation. It doesn't take much to please a yaffalo, grass and peace is all it really requires. The easiest way to anger it and turn it into a killing machine? Yank its tail. One of the most sensitive areas of the beast, when pulled or yanked, the beast comes alive and levels its two massively curved horns for charging. And if unable to skewer, then a powerful kick works as well.<</dialog>><</link>> yanking. You don't watch something like that and still use honorifics later." "Should I be worried? About whatever //that// is?" "No. It left minimal scarring. I actually think all the scars I did get disappeared." You glance over, and they flash you a broad, toothy grin that shows off their canines, "maybe when we get home, I'll show you. It's almost like an initiation for the soldiers. Childish, highly dangerous, but," they shrug with a proud smile. Their posture straightening at the thought that they passed whatever the initiation asked for. <<if $xenocomealong>>The conversation comes to an end as Xeno comes back outside, motioning that he is ready to head out. With him now at your side you start your path towards the temple.<<else>>"But come on, let's head over to the temple."<</if>> <a data-passage="2.05N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The majority of the walk is silent and filled with you once again taking in the scenery of the village and its inhabitants. You spot a group of people walking, each wearing similar clothing and sniggering amongst themselves. The understanding that you will never have that is the first thing to start orbiting around your mind. You were born to be a leader but such a task will never be yours, such a power never yours to wield. It is far more likely that you'll die as a stranger, always gazing on from a distance and never amongst the throngs as one of them. These thoughts stay with you until you reach the temple, a decently-sized wooden building whose roofs are busy collecting snow. A few trees rest around the area, some bearing snow and red fruit whose skin appears smooth. A few children dart around, throwing snow at one another and building up strange objects that wear faces and accessories. All of it gives an otherwise bleak scene some life, life that you never equated to snow and winter. Closer towards the building, a few people draped in long navy and gold robes stand near the entrance, their hands clasped together as if in prayer, but their demeanor says differently. "Good day," <<if $xenocomealong>>Xeno greets to the one of the women, "are we free to enter?"<<else>>Nour grumbles, clearing their throat as if realizing that at the last second their words came across harshly, "is the temple free to enter?"<</if>> "The temple is open to all souls. Be they curious or lost." Her eyes glance over your group, halting on you. <<if $xenocomealong>>"I'll stay out here, you two enter," Xeno tells, taking position off to the side.<<else>>"Thank you," Nour comments, bowing their head to all of the women who look on.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.05.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour holds the door open for you, and you briskly enter, wishing to get away from the woman's probing gaze. The interior is modest and, unlike the outside, lacks a friendly aura. The bland walls and solemn mood comes off as nothing but serious, a place to either pray or leave. A few benches are placed up against the wall, but most of the objects within are small mats. From observing those within, they are used to kneel upon. Those doing so all have their eyes closed, and their heads arched back. At the head of the room are two giant statues, one you know to be Sun and the other a woman who you've never seen before. She contrasts Sun's light with darkness, though not one of malicious intent, you note. It feels as if she is just softer, whereas Sun is more direct. "I'll be right here," they mumble, and after taking in a deep breath, you approach an open mat and kneel. A few seconds pass of you sitting soundlessly, uninformed about how exactly you should go about asking the spirits for help. Are they simply meant to come to you, or are you to pray? It feels odd to pray to spirits en masse. Perhaps speaking to Sun specifically is the best idea. [[Utter a prayer.|N2.05Prayer][$charisma +=2]] [[Just exist in the now.|N2.05ExistNow][$stealth +=2]] [[Abandon this.|N2.05Abandon][$force +=2]]
Taking a deep breath in, you begin to utter a silent prayer. "Sun, if you can hear me, then I request your guidance. I'm told that I have a spiritual disease, and I'm not sure what that means. If I am to be honest, I'm not sure what anything means anymore. I feel lost, whereas before I was just trapped." Your heart feels like someone squeezes it, "I'm tired. I'm tired of not being strong enough or not being smart enough. I'm tired of being plagued with questions and believing that I won't ever receive an answer. I just want to understand. I want to smile and see this world for its beauty and not for every dark thing hiding in the shadows. I … I want to not be afraid." Nothing happens. And though a part of you had doubted you would find some kind of enlightenment, you at least feel a tad bit better. You have no idea if Sun or anyone else heard you, but to admit things, even to yourself, relieved you of a burden. You open your eyes, expecting to come face to face with Sun's statue inside the temple, not that of an erupting volcano. <<include "2.05.2N">>
You relax your body and your mind, letting your awareness spread and take in all of that which surrounds you. You can hear the casual conversations of those nearby, as well as the soft-spoken prayers of those directly behind you. They ask for guidance and for reassurance, selfless in their inquiries, and wishing only for clarity. There are chimes; though you don't remember seeing them, you hear them. They exude a rhythmic clattering each time they collide due to the wind, their pitches sometimes changing, but that was all. The smell, you could not describe. It was incense, that much you knew, but that was all that you could grasp. The distinctive aromas were much too subtle, and the lingering smoke hindered your senses. And then the impressions change. The incense is replaced by brimstone. The chimes turn into the singing of birds. You are no longer cold as warmth spreads across you, the breeze being the only thing that keeps such warmness at bay. <<include "2.05.2N">>
This feels silly, all of it. What do they expect you to do? Pray to Sun and hope for a miracle? Sun has never answered you in the past, so why would today be any different? Is it because you are in a temple? You doubt that will make any real difference, and if it does, then a lie rests outside these walls. The healer said you will need to invoke spirits, giving you the impression that Sun isn't needed at all. But then what spirits? It would have been much wiser to have him come along. Or maybe he is unable to do anything more than advise. Growling, you begin to move and open your eyes, expecting to come face to face with Sun's statue inside the temple, not that of an erupting volcano. <<include "2.05.2N">>
Despite the closeness of the flowing lava and the fiery mountain before you, everything feels peaceful. Spirit creatures fly through the sky, twirling and dancing around each other with no care existing between them. The atmosphere is clear; the smoke from the volcano exists but doesn't disrupt the lackadaisical clouds or the magic ore shower. <a data-passage="2.05.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Ah, I have been waiting for you for some time." You turn to face the gruff-sounding speaker, immediately dropping to your knees when you look upon the great man standing before you. He wears but a simple robe that displays not only his gleaming golden muscles but also the many scars that have affixed themselves to him and claimed that patch of skin, theirs. His long crimson red hair drifts on a calming current, and intense eyes that appear like fireballs give him a dangerous, spirited demeanor. He exudes the combined idea of both fire and earth. Chaotic nature brought under control, reigned in by his hand alone. "The Great <<link 'High God Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods, and twin brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged with the forming stories, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them.<</dialog>><</link>>." "Titles are fine, but just Sun will do." He sits on the ground, and even still, his height dwarfs you. You feel that even if he is to shrink down to a mortal size, his presence will still cause you to feel meager. "You said you have been waiting for me?" He holds up his wrist where you see a tight binding rope. The longer you stare, the more you even believe to see it pulse. "Indeed. Long ago, before you were even a thought by parents not yet born, a vindictive woman who had nothing left to lose placed a curse upon your people." <<if hasVisited("N2.05Curse")>>“A curse?”<<else>>[[“A curse?”|N2.05Curse]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05Phoenix")>>“My people? The Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”|N2.05Phoenix]]<</if>>
"A curse? One can be that strong? I also didn't think they involved the gods." "On most occasions, you would be correct. The majority of curses are simply for petty revenge or stretch no further than a small group of affected people or generation. But there are few who go farther. They give their entire essence away to enact what we refer to as a divine curse. These curses are the strongest of its kind and can only be undone when the conditions of said curse are met." He closes his eyes, scratching the hair along his chin in disgust, "they are a pain." He again holds up his hand, "and are a constant reminder as they bind us to the curse." "Why go that far? Besides angering the gods, I fail to see what one accomplishes." "They accomplish what a regular curse may not. Find yourself a powerful witch or a loophole, and the curse can be reversed or shifted. A divine curse has no such things. The curse feeds off of the energy of the immortal. So the only way for you to stop it would be to destroy the immortal." "Which is impossible?" "Very much so," he chuckles. "What do they give up for something so strong?" "They give themselves to the immortal, body, soul, and mind. Some regular curses call for blood and death, but the soul can be reincarnated or, at the very least, find itself in the elysian plane. For those who give themselves to us, upon death, their entire essence belongs to us. They will no longer exist in any form. A curse with a High God though," he shakes his head, "that sees the end of your entire line." You take a moment to think through the information you had just been told. For someone to go so far as to make this deal, they wished for you to suffer. No, your people to suffer. They — she had waited centuries for this moment. It wasn't hard to conclude that this person was whoever had brought you to the tower. The one who everyone refers to as the Shadow. <<if hasVisited("N2.05Curse")>>“A curse?”<<else>>[[“A curse?”|N2.05Curse]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05Phoenix")>>“My people? The Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”|N2.05Phoenix]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|2.05.4N]]
"My people? The Phoenix? But what did we ever do to deserve a curse such as this? What wrongs did we cause that centuries have passed, and her vengeance remained strong?" "I cannot answer that. Only she can." "But why me then? If her gripe is with my people, then why didn't this fall on any other or all of us? Why a single child? A child!?" "Again, something I cannot tell you. I am only the overseer of your curse, the one who will make sure that the curse is fulfilled. All I know is that the curse was meant to befall the brightest phoenix. And seeing that you're standing before me, that's you." <<if hasVisited("N2.05Curse")>>“A curse?”<<else>>[[“A curse?”|N2.05Curse]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05Phoenix")>>“My people? The Phoenix?”<<else>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”|N2.05Phoenix]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|2.05.4N]]
"What must I do then? Can I stop this?" "Yes. The answer is a location that is buried deep within your memories. You must work your way through them to learn of this place. Once you have it, make your way there and call upon me. If I answer, you're right. If not, then you must keep searching." "So simply sit somewhere and try to gather all my memories?" He snickers and spares you an amused grin, "you make such a thing sound so trivial. In reality, it will not be as easy. As you have no doubt noticed, your memories are either a consequence of what's going on around you or come due to a relaxed state and a questioning mind. They will not simply appear because you wish them to. You must also be careful. The witch who did this to you has used alchemy, a form of magic and science that is strange to even me. Pushing yourself could wield unfortunate conclusions." "Must I recover these memories?" Sun frowns, cocking his head to the side, "explain yourself, and I may be able to answer you." "These memories," you sigh, telling yourself that it is acceptable to be truthful. This is a god. It is more likely that if he needs anything, he can just peruse your memories himself. His actions should be seen as generous and out of respect for your own privacy. "These memories hurt. They force me to relive the pain all over again, and part of me hopes that this can be avoided." "Sate my curiosity. If I told you no, that they have to be revisited in full, would you still attempt to save yourself?" [[“No. There are worse things than death.”|N2.05WorseThingsThanDeath][$memory -=5]] [[“Yes. I would have to deal with it.”|N2.05DealWithIt][$memory +=5]] [[“That is something I can't answer yet.”|N2.05CantAnswer]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Present ++</span><</if>> "No," you shake your head, fighting off a shiver that seems oddly placed due to your surroundings, "the woman who's the cause of all this once said that there are worse things than death. I found that phrase silly, but after reliving the memories, I now know what she means. I would rather accept death." "There is another phrase as well, that choosing death is taking the coward's way out." Sun's expression gives nothing away, causing you to wonder if he is deeming you as such or if he simply is challenging you to think of another side to it. Either way, he doesn't give you time to verbally provide a response, already moving on. <<include "2.05.5N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Past ++</span><</if>> "Yes. It's not something that I look forward to, but if that's the only way, then I will." "You're a brave soul. Either that or you're lying to save face." You open your mouth to answer, but he has already moved on, giving you no chance to defend yourself but causing you to contemplate his words farther. <<include "2.05.5N">>
"That is something that I can't answer yet." "You may wish to find an answer soon," Sun warns, "you may find that indecisiveness is more of an enemy than a friend." <<include "2.05.5N">>
"The answer is no. When revisiting these memories, they will always begin to play out, but you can stop them with enough willpower. By the time you realize that you need to pull yourself out and muster up the energy to do so, you will have gathered the information needed to find the location you seek." You take what you believe to be a calming breath in and reflect on what he has told you. At least there's a chance—a chance to save yourself and potentially leave all of this behind. <<if hasVisited("N2.05YouHeardMe")>>“You heard me?”<<else>>[[“You heard me?”|N2.05YouHeardMe]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05HowMuchTime")>>“Do you know how much time I have?”<<else>>[[“Do you know how much time I have?”|N2.05HowMuchTime]]<</if>>
Words that he has spoken when you first arrived trickle back into your thoughts. He's been waiting for you, bound to this curse the same as you. This entire time, it's impossible for him not to have heard you, not to have seen what has befallen you. "This entire time," you begin, "you have heard my cries? Have seen the horrors and watched my agony?" He does not reply but his demeanor is all the response that you need. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>\ Your anger roars to life. Your hand clenching into a fist as the only thing that keeps you from lunging forward is the understanding that this being is a god. "You're a god. You could have brought all of this to an end! You could have helped me!" you scream. "That is not my role," he states simply. He looks upon you with indifference, neither offended by your outrage or saddened. "I have heard tales of how you beings wish to interfere. But when one needs you most, you choose to step back? You're monsters! You toy with us for your own amusement." You grit your teeth, wishing to hit something, to let all of what burns through you to be released. "At the very least, you could have given me a sign. Something! But you chose to remain quiet! You did that." "I will not explain myself to you. Not because I believe you petty or weak, but because you will understand none of it. And when you do understand it, there will be no need for me to explain." He bows his head to you, "if you wish to take your anger out on me, then do so. If you need someone to blame, then I am willing to shoulder it." You glance away, knowing that is what you wish but disliking the fact that he has agreed. <<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>\ You close your eyes, attempting to see this through numerous stances but come back to your own. And your own screams at the neglect. "You're a god," you whimper, "I … I know it couldn't have been avoided but you could have helped me! You could have at least given me a sign. Told me that I wasn't alone. That there was a light at the end and that things could get better. That someone … at least one person heard me and … " The pain floods through you, all this time. To know that you could have potentially not been alone but you were. That this spirit in front of you has been with you but has chosen to remain anonymous and has let you go through all of this. "I don't know," you weep, "something." You close your eyes, reining your emotions back in but it was too late, the sadness has embraced you. You were once again one. Sun does not answer, a response that though you were all too familiar with, still left you feeling cold and lonesome. <<else>>\ Your mind huffs even though your heart whimpers at the realization. Your heart understood what this meant and what it has led to. In a way, the lack of a sign and Sun's guidance has caused this sort of numb response. How much different would it have all been if he had, at least once, shown himself or support. "You heard," you find yourself saying, "and you did nothing?" "That's correct." You don't show it, or at least you hope you don't, but the frankness to his words sting. Maybe it would have all been the same. But maybe it wouldn't, all if you had known that a god at least heard you. <</if>>\ <<if hasVisited("N2.05YouHeardMe")>>“You heard me?”<<else>>[[“You heard me?”|N2.05YouHeardMe]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05HowMuchTime")>>“Do you know how much time I have?”<<else>>[[“Do you know how much time I have?”|N2.05HowMuchTime]]<</if>> [[“Is there anything else?”|N2.05AnythingElse]]
"A shaman said that I have until the end of Smoten. Is this true?" Sun glances at the binding, allowing a few seconds to go by before peering back up at you and nodding his head. "Give or take. It would be wise to not push yourself past physical constraints and into stressful limits. Do what you must, and you'll bring an end to all of this." You are unsure of how to feel. You can correct this, save yourself. But you have only about a month to do it. Granted, Smoten is lengthy, but who knows how long it will take for you to rake through your memories, decipher the clues, and then get to the area you need to be at. <<if hasVisited("N2.05YouHeardMe")>>“You heard me?”<<else>>[[“You heard me?”|N2.05YouHeardMe]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("N2.05HowMuchTime")>>“Do you know how much time I have?”<<else>>[[“Do you know how much time I have?”|N2.05HowMuchTime]]<</if>> [[“Is there anything else?”|N2.05AnythingElse]]
"Is there anything else you can tell me?" you ask just as your surroundings begin to shift, parts of the temple coming into view, and the sounds of chimes reaching your ears. "No, you have everything you need to save yourself." He stands and nods, "I look forward to seeing how you do. Impress me, little phoenix." <a data-passage="2.06N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Your eyes open lazily, and you find yourself glancing up at wooden boards that make up the rafters of the building. Your eyes sliding from one before gliding to the other. You allow yourself some time to think before walking over to where <<if $xenocomealong>>Xeno and Nour sit, both uncomfortably quiet. You note that Xeno, as far as you remember, had decided to stay outside but obviously did not stay.<<else>>Nour sits.<</if>> "So? Were the spirits any help?" <<if $leery >=50>>You're tightlipped at first, not knowing how wise it is to tell them about what you discovered, not to mention who bestowed this knowledge upon you. But, if Nour is truly from your past, then isn't it likely that they can help you uncover memories far quicker than if you were on your own?<<else>>For a minute, you wonder if it is wise to tell them what you learned and who told you. But one glance at their <<if $xenocomealong>>faces<<else>>face<</if>> and you know that it will be fine.<</if>> "Spirit and yes. High God Sun came to me and told me what was going on." <<if $xenocomealong>>\ Xeno is the first to voice his doubt, glancing from Nour to you with a raised brow and confusion in his eye. "Sun came to you? If true and it was not trickery, then why do you say such a thing so casually? Is this common?" "No," you admit, "but the way he explained everything made sense. So I suppose I am over my shock." That or along with everything else, it seems trivial. Nour questions with a careful air to their words, "what did he say?" "That there is a curse set upon me and that it is indeed killing me. The only way to undo it is to search my memories for clues on a location. Sun says that when I find said location and go to it, he will answer me once again." "A treasure hunt?" Xeno scoffs, "this is silly. You don't have time." <<if $positive >=50>>"Despite how silly it sounds, this is my only hope. The least I can do is make an attempt." Nour nods vigorously in agreement,<<else>>"I agree but it doesn't really seem as if I have many other options here." Nour rolls their eyes but nod in agreement,<</if>> and Xeno grumbles about childish games but ultimately agrees as well. Nour nods and gets to their feet, you and Xeno following their lead, "then we shouldn't waste time. Come, did he say how you can access these memories? It seems impractical due to your slight amnesia." <<else>>\ Nour is quiet for some time, digesting the words and glancing at you periodically as if they were afraid they would miss something. Once sure that they wouldn't, they glance away and start the entire cycle over again. Finally, they speak, "okay. Sun … what did he say?" "That there is a curse set upon me and that it is indeed killing me. The only way to undo it is to search my memories for clues on a location. Sun says that when I find said location and go to it, he will answer me once again." They chuckle, "I should have mediated over the Sun part a bit more. This is becoming a bit much. So, Sun wishes for you to garner clues from your memories in order to find a location, all before Smoten is up?" "That is what it seems like. Yes." Nour nods and gets to their feet, and you do as well, "then we shouldn't waste time. Come, did he say how you can access these memories? It seems impractical due to your slight amnesia." <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.06.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
As you walk to the exit, you explain to them what Sun said, making your own assumptions about how you should go about it and how long it will take. "Do you think we have a chance?" Nour asks. [[“Yes, I think so.”|N2.06ThinkSo][$positive +=3; $spirit +=3; $nour -=3]] [[“No, but where's the harm in trying?”|N2.06HarmInTrying][$positive -=3; $spirit -=3; $nour +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++ | Ardor ++</span><</if>> "Yes, I think so." And for the first time in a long time, you feel as if you aren't simply lying to yourself for the sake of being able to sleep soundly at night. You honestly believe this to be doable and that you can save your life. You have hope. And though it is dangerous, your life is finally yours to control. You can give this your all, and even if you fail, you have a say, and though external sources do not make this easy, you can only look at your own deeds to adequately explain the outcome. <<include "2.06.2N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++ | Apathy ++</span><</if>> "No," you admit with a heavy sigh, "but where's the harm in trying." You are no longer strong enough or perhaps foolish enough to let hope beguile you again. Remaining pragmatic about all of this seems the wiser course, especially since the idea of scouring your memories for clues seems so foreign. You have no doubt that it is doable, but the more you think about it, the more unlikely it seems. As if all of this is part of some cleverly thought out scheme that involves misdirecting you until Smoten is to arrive. <<include "2.06.2N">>
<<if $touch is 1>>\ Nour takes a step closer only to retract their steps. "I swear to you, I will help however possible." You nod your thanks. <<if $xenocomealong>>The three<<else>>The two<</if>> of you head outside, freezing when you catch sight of those that stand before you. <<elseif $touch is 2>>\ Nour takes a step closer to you and you take three back. An inquiring look appears but they shove it to the side. Thanks to your actions, Nour doesn't seem any the wiser. "I swear to you, I will help however possible." <<if $xenocomealong>>The three<<else>>The two<</if>> of you head outside, freezing when you catch sight of those that stand before you. <<else>>\ Nour takes a step closer to you and grabs hold of both your hands. You squeeze their hands in return but then swiftly move away, biting your tongue to quiet the pain. "I swear to you, I will help however possible." <<if $xenocomealong>>The three<<else>>The two<</if>> of you head outside, freezing when you catch sight of those that stand before you. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.06.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Imagine my shock," Watcher Tyrae sighs wistfully as if reminiscing about a lovely dream she had, "when I hear that my little birdie not only escaped ?his cage but sought solace in the nearby town." "How did you find me?" you question, <<if $timid >=50>>your voice far shakier than you predict it to be.<<else>>attempting to steady your shaky voice.<</if>> "No doubt you see how small this town is. When new faces spring up, the townspeople talk. And tongues wag honestly to a face that they respect. You must miss your cage terribly, come along." Nour shifts so that you are no longer in Tyrae's field of vision, their hand hovering over the sword resting at their hip. "?He <<verb "is">> not going anywhere with you. <<if $nourknows>>Count it a courtesy that I don't arrest or cut you down for kidnapping a member of the royal family.<<else>>I don't know who you are but count it a courtesy that I don't arrest you for kidnapping a member of the royal family.<</if>>" "Kidnapping," she huffs, "so dramatic. It's hardly kidnapping when ?he <<verb 'was'>> given freely to my care." "I very much doubt those words," Nour barks, pulling their sword free of its sheath. <<if $xenocomealong>>\ Xeno follows suit but still seems remarkably calm even as he speaks, "I ask you this time only. Leave us or suffer the consequences. Not only will you be arrested for kidnapping but as well as attempted murder on the Crown Heir's life." Her eyes sparkle with unconcealed mirth, looking Nour over with renewed interest. <<else>>\ "And who might you be to even dare bring up the idea of an arrest?" "I am Crown Heir Nouritis Gryps of House Griffin." Her eyes sparkle with unconcealed mirth, looking Nour over with renewed interest. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.06.4N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"So you are the one that our lovely phoenix used to go on and on about. The griffin boy, correct? Nour, I do believe ?he would scream out. Yes, that was the name. You were a great help in my experiments. Imagine my joy when the name Nour no longer caused a reaction." "You're a monster," they seethe. "Is that what you told him, $name?" she glances at you, the excitement wearing off quickly as she peers on dispassionately. [[“That's what you are.”|N2.06YouAreTho]] [[“Why? Just tell me that.”|N2.06JustTellMe]] [[“Are you the reason I'm dying?”|N2.06ReasonImDyingBruh]]
"You speak as if I spoke falsely of you. You are a monster. The things you did to me were inhumane and abusive." "And if you come back, then you won't have to worry about it. What I am trying to accomplish will serve you far more than hinder you in the end." <<include "2.06.5N">>
"Why? I don't ask for much, but I do want to know why you did this. What was this supposed to accomplish?" "Oh, my poor little bird," she coos, taking a step forward, considering you much like an adult would a defenseless toddler who just said something silly. "The fact that you don't know just proves that you were not ready to leave that cage. Come back with me, and all will be clear." <<include "2.06.5N">>
You're about to take a step forward when you remember that Nour is disallowing such an action. You resign to staying in place as you focus your gaze on Tyrae, "are you the reason that I'm dying? Those experiments you did on me?" "Oh, you know about that now?" she hums and shrugs, "that's one less tool in my arsenal, but no. My experiments did nothing to shorten your life expectancy. You are dying due to your own foolishness." <<include "2.06.5N">>
<<if $timid >=50>>"No," you whisper, shaking your head, "you're lying." She stiffens.<<else>>"Liar," you yell, and she stiffens.<</if>> "You and me both know that I am many things, but I am no liar. What purpose do I have? Do you forget what happens to you if too much time passes before a visit from me?" <<if $xenocomealong>>\ "That is enough!" Xeno bellows, all attention moving to the large man who takes a threatening step towards them, "Nour, get you and $name out of here. I will handle them." Tyrae squints, "I have no doubt that you probably could. But I have no wish to back down either. I not only have my own ambitions but also my orders." She bows her head, "do what you wish with the Crown Heir and guard. Leave the phoenix be." She snaps her fingers, and the guards at her side, with no hesitancy, rush forward to meet Nour and Xeno. "Get out of here!" Xeno growls, grabbing Nour and pushing them towards you. Nour does not argue, and they grab your hand, yanking you away and towards the town. "But Xeno -" you yell, looking back over your shoulder to see all three guards attacking him. "Can take care of himself. My focus is on you." [[“It shouldn't be.”|N2.06ShouldNot][$nour +=3]] [[“Where can we hide?”|N2.06WhereHide][$nour -=3]] <<else>>\ "You're a snake," Nour bellows, "that is reason enough." "This coming from a griffin. Your people murder, rob, and rape their way through this country and expect to be seen as heroes and saviors. Wrong recognizes wrong, I suppose." "I am nothing like you. Neither are my people." "Enough of this," Tyrae snaps her fingers, and the guards at her side, with no hesitancy, rush forward. There are three of them and only one of Nour. [[Help Nour.|N2.06Help][$nour +=3]] [[Stay back.|N2.06Stay][$nour -=3]] <</if>>\
"It shouldn't be," you shout, almost wishing to stop your retreat and go back and help him. You are led to believe that Nour agrees when they release your hand, but they do so only to shift, motioning for you to mount them. Far quicker now than before, Nour darts through the streets attempting to get back to the inn. <<include "2.07N">>
"Where do we even go to hide? These streets are too spacious." They are words that Nour have probably already considered and are dealing with. They remain quiet, leading you until they release your hand to shift, motioning for you to mount them. Far quicker now than before, Nour darts through the streets attempting to get back to the inn. <<include "2.07N">>
You see nothing but a blur when something rams into your side, sending both of you sliding across the snow and causing you to be thankful for its airiness at the moment. If hardened, the fall would have been much more disastrous. You hear the sound of a bear grunting and look to see Tyrae dismounting the phaizarn. "Simply come with me. Save your friends an unfortunate death." Nour answers before you, screeching loudly as they place themselves between you and the bear. Onlookers keep their distance but are much too curious to flee, peering at the growing tension that happens in the middle of their street. "Your griffin against my bear then?" She sighs and taps their side, and the battle begins. Raw strength on the side of the great brown bear gives them an advantage. But Nour quickly causes anyone who easily decided on the bear as victor, to doubt. Nour moves far too quickly for any of the bear's more serious strikes to hit and each attack is precise. Removing your attention from the fight, you search for Tyrae who walks the outskirts, heading towards the bulk of the townspeople. <a data-passage="2.07.1N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Look what they do. This so called House Griffin rains its hatred upon your village," she points to you, "that being is a prisoner who is paying for crimes and we have come to take ?him back. This is what we face, injustice!" The crowd mumbles and many roar, shouting as they raise their voices in support of Tyrae. "They defile your temple with violence!" "She's right! There's a griffin up there fighting as well," you hear a woman cry out and the anger of those surrounding you mount. You feel the air grow thicker and a fog begins to descend upon your mind. Breathing becomes a struggle and though you think it, you hardly get the words out. <<if $force gt $stealth and $force gt $charisma>>\ "Nour, stop. Now," you command. But they continue on, blood coating the crystalline snow as they tear into their opponent. "You're doing what she wants," you shout, hoping to get through to them. You feel someone grab you. <<elseif $charisma gt $force and $charisma gt $stealth>>\ "Nour, listen to me. You must stop," you attempt to persuade. But they continue on, blood coating the crystalline snow as they tear into their opponent. "You're doing what she wants. Nour, get a hold of yourself!" you continue. You feel someone grab you. <<else>>\ "Nour, stop. Now," you manage to whisper. Also attempting to signal to them if they wouldn't hear you then maybe they could see you. But they continue on, blood coating the crystalline snow as they tear into their opponent. "Nour, you're doing what she wants," you mumble, speaking more to yourself than to them. You feel someone grab you. <</if>>\ [[Fight them off.|N2.07Fight][$spirit +=3; $timid -=3]] [[Don't bother to fight.|N2.07FightNo][$spirit -=3; $timid +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Ardor ++ | Brave ++</span><</if>> You turn around, pushing the figure away, only for two more sets of hands to descend upon you. "Grab ?him!" "Prisoner! Return ?him to Tyrae!" You thrash and scream out at the pain as bare hands meet your neck and shoulder. Panic rises in your throat at the fear of what happened to your wrist, the black death gripping you tightly. You won't be able to fight off an entire town. Not to mention that they're pulling you closer towards a waiting Tyrae. She opens her arms to you, as if within them is where you are meant to be. <<include "2.07.2N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Apathy ++ | Timid ++</span><</if>> Within your bones there is no energy. You focus mainly on the pain that spreads through your body, hissing as prolonged touch causes the area to feel inflamed. The black death will once again greet you as it has your wrist, only this time no one will be able to heal the damage. Hands after hands grab and help pull you to a waiting Tyrae, and you allow it to happen. Too good to be true, that is indeed the thought you always knew to be the most real. It is honest and even when you believe it to be false, it waits patiently for you to come back to it. <<include "2.07.2N">>
Before you are deposited into her embrace, Nour slams into the townspeople. Their fur covered in an abundance of blood that can not possibly be theirs. "And there you are," Tyrae screams, "House Griffin has killed a guard simply for doing their job. Do you know why?" You do not stay to learn why. Nour has already grabbed you and is darting off as she continues to stir the townspeople's anger. She cares nothing for the guard or the people that she now finds herself preaching to. Her only care is for you, but this will aid her. Now word will travel. What problems will this create for not only you but House Griffin? How will the other houses respond when they hear of this? <a data-passage="2.07.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour travels on. Past the inn and the town's outskirts and deep within the forest. Onward until all that you hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sound of their paws meeting the snow, and their ragged breathing. When they finally do come to a stop, you dismount and walk a little ways off, covering your face and wondering if the others would run into any problems. Did Xeno successfully deal with the two guards after him? How much would Tyrae's words affect your journey? It is only when you hear Nour groaning that your mind abandons all other thoughts, focusing on them. They have transformed, and you learn that they have indeed suffered from an injury during their scrap with the bear. A decent-sized gash rests along their arm, and though it is bleeding, the way Nour handles themselves caused you to believe that the wound could be worse. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," they huff, straightening and taking numerous deep breaths to center themselves, "just need Spiros to take a look at it. But it's nothing life-threatening." They shake something and their gaze becomes fixed on you, "how are you?" [[“I'm a bit shaken.”|N2.07Sad][$sad +=2]] [[“I'll be fine.”|N2.07Numb][$numb +=2]] [[“I thought this was over.”|N2.07Anger][$anger +=2]] [[“Me?! You're the one injured.”|N2.07NourInjured]]
You manage a small, albeit weak, smile, "I'm a bit shaken by it all." You believed that admitting such a feeling would cause at least some of the tension within your bones to lessen; instead, your body stiffens more. You are then reminded of the many times you felt the same on Tyrae's examination slab. Your entire body stiff and awaiting a procedure that feels alien despite the many times you've undergone it. <<include "2.07.4N">>
"I'll be fine," you sigh, giving them a tired smile that you hope seems more hopeful than it probably is. You truly need a breather due to everything happening too fast: the rescue, learning more about your memories, or more so the lack thereof, then the town and Sun, and now Tyrae's resurgence. Your emotions are a mess, and you are losing your grip on that which makes sense and that which is more of your own thoughts and fears come to life. <<include "2.07.4N">>
"I feel foolish," you admit, hanging your head and sighing, "I thought this was over, that besides accomplishing Sun's quest, I was free of this." "You are," Nour attempts to say encouragingly. You shake your head immediately. "I will never be free." <<include "2.07.4N">>
"I know you said you're fine but you should be far more concerned with yourself. You're injured," you point out. "And again, it's not life threatening. I suffer more when I'm sparring against Xeno. And you're avoiding the question." "I'm simply checking on you," you correct, "<<if $positive >=50>>But I'll be fine. It's a lot to take in and I'm doing my best.<<else>>I'll ... I don't know. It's a lot to take in.<</if>>" <<include "2.07.4N">>
<<if $connection >=1>>\ Nour had placed their life on the line for you, again. "You could have been killed," you say, the words scaring you more than you thought they would. "$name." You shake your head, wishing to hug them and bury your face in their chest. Twice have they saved you now. "Thank you." "I told you," they whisper, straightening up and peering over at you, "I will never let anything happen to you again." Your eyes rise to meet theirs and you find them far closer than before. <<if $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>This person alone has been able to chase away your numbness, to invoke emotions you have long since thought dead. They stir something foreign and albeit scary within you, but with them near you have the bravery to face it.<<else>>In a matter of two days, this single person has changed your entire life. They have freed you from the tower you have long accepted as your tomb and kept you from the clutches of the woman who brings forth nightmares. And they have asked for nothing but your trust in return. They have brought warmth and a smile to your face ever since they entered, and awakened something you have long since vanished.<</if>> <<if $trust >=50 and $connection >=2>>[[You realize you would do anything for them.|N2.07DoAnything][$connection +=1; $toxic to true]]<</if>> [[You are grateful, but fear exceeds it.|N2.07GratefulButFear]] <<elseif $nourknows>>\ "I promised you that I won't let anything happen to you. I intend to keep that promise, $name." You glance up at them just as noise to your right catches your attention. Both of you look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <<include "2.07.5N">> <<else>>\ "That woman, who was she?" Nour continues, hardly allowing you to answer the first question that they posed, "is she the one who kidnapped you? The one who kept you in that tower? Obviously, she's the one who messed with your memories. Why didn't you tell me?" [[“I wasn't ready to.”|N2.07WasntReady][$nour -=5; $trust +=3]] [[“I didn't trust you.”|N2.07TrustYou][$nour +=5; $trust -=3]] <</if>>\
The realization hits you as if it has always been fact, never something to doubt or ponder upon. Just like how they have established you as the most important thing to them, you have done them the same way. The understanding tears at you, almost to the point that it scares you. After all this time of being treated poorly and so cold, the thought of being away from the one person who has shown you great care and admiration is something you do not wish to lose. Your heart aches at the thought of doing something wrong, of somehow losing them due to your inability to remember a past that eludes you. "$name," they question and it takes everything not to throw yourself into their arms. Not due to what will happen to you but the pain Nour now experiences. And it is all your fault. "You're a hero, you know," you chuckle, whispering the next words so lightly, "my hero." Nour says nothing but you can see their cheeks turn a deep red as they look away. <<if $nourknows>>\ You glance up just as noise to your right catches your attention. Both of you look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <<include "2.07.5N">> <<else>>\ "That woman, who was she?" Nour finally questions after they get over their initial embarrassment. "Is she the one who kidnapped you? The one who kept you in that tower? Obviously, she's the one who messed with your memories. Why didn't you tell me?" [[“I wasn't ready to.”|N2.07WasntReady][$nour -=5; $trust +=3]] [[“I didn't trust you.”|N2.07TrustYou][$nour +=5; $trust -=3]] <</if>>\
But there is a fear that accompanies all of that. You are terrified of the reaction that they bring forth, even if you're not completely sure why. There is something about how they make you wish to act that causes you to shy away. <<if $nourknows>>\ You glance up just as noise to your right catches your attention. Both of you look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <<include "2.07.5N">> <<else>>\ "That woman, who was she?" Nour questions, "is she the one who kidnapped you? The one who kept you in that tower? Obviously, she's the one who messed with your memories. Why didn't you tell me?" [[“I wasn't ready to.”|N2.07WasntReady][$nour -=5; $trust +=3]] [[“I didn't trust you.”|N2.07TrustYou][$nour +=5; $trust -=3]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> "I wasn't ready to tell you. I hardly wished to think about it myself." Nour inhales deeply and quickly exhales before nodding their head in understanding. "That was perhaps too much on my part. My apologies." The conversation comes to an end as noise to your right catches both of your attention. You look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <<include "2.07.5N">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> "I didn't trust you," you tell them plainly, seeing no reason to lie. <<if hasVisited("N2.07DoAnything")>>\ "And now? Please tell me that a lack of trust is no longer an issue now?" They almost beg you. "It is not an issue." Nour's eyes lighten and they relax as they examine you. A noise to your right catches both of your attention, ending the conversation. You look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <<else>>\ "And now? Or must I remain in the dark even now? How am I supposed to understand what's going on and how to protect you when you constantly fight me?" "Perhaps patience should be administered." "Trust as well," they hiss. Neither of you manage to get in another word as noise to your right catches both of your attention. You look to see five griffins breaking the tree line, landing in the clearing that you find yourself in. Spiros jumps off the back of one of them and rushes over to Nour, looking over the wound while grunting in disapproval lowly. <</if>>\ <<include "2.07.5N">>
"Stop exaggerating," Nour grumbles, "I've had worse." Spiros performs a series of hand movements, ending the action with flicking Nour in the middle of the forehead and causing the griffin heir to hush. "What happened after we left?" you ask Xeno, who seems in a far better state than Nour. Either that or he is far more proficient at hiding his injuries. "Tyrae roused the townspeople. As soon as I got to the inn, the rest of the team were coming out to see what was going on. Nothing more happened, but I would not test our luck with neighboring villages. Not until we enter griffin territory." <a data-passage="2.07.6N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"So, we're headed home?" Thana questions in excitement, but Nour dashes her hopes away with a shake of their head. "Unless $name's memories lead there, then no. Though I suspect it's only one of two places." "What do you mean?" you inquire. "You said that High God Sun spoke of a location buried within your memories. The Phoenix or Griffin territory, I surmise. You have not had the chance to be many places." "That is a bold and fairly optimistic conclusion," Xeno argues, "this witch has twisted ?His Majesty's mind for years. This location could be anywhere and ?he just not remember it." He narrows his eyes on Nour, "remember that ?his life did not suddenly end when ?he was captured." Nour clenches their jaw, but you find that Xeno's words hold truth, and that truth causes a lull in the conversation. It does not fill you with happiness, but it is a small comfort to know that hope does not only look at you as a foolish being; it set its sights on others as well. <a data-passage="2.07.7N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour clears their throat, now sporting a fresh bandage. "Let's move out then." <<if $team <40>>"To where?" Thana questions, "aren't we waiting for the phoenix to guide us with their memories?" No one says anything about how she says it, but you can hear the skepticism and the uneasiness in her tone. You are winning no points with her, and the way the others fail to chide her, you believe that the same can be said for all of them.<<else>>"To where?" Mikitas questions, "I thought we were waiting on ?Prince $name for proper guidance." The others nod, peering over at you.<</if>> "We should at least find a more stable place for a camp," Nour grumbles, no longer waiting around for the thoughts of others, already moving on. Xeno huffs with a smirk, and everyone moves forward in action. You release a breath of air. The race for your life seems to have now truly begun. [[Story End->DemoEnd]]
You remain at Nour's side, though the constant thought about what you will do and how your presence can alter this predicament is steady on your mind. "$name?" Nour questions, just now realizing that you are still there and haven't moved, "run, go to the temple." "I'm not leaving you." They push you to the side just as one of the guards swings her blade, clearly not bothered by skewering either of you. Kicking the guard away and then throwing a feigned punch at another, they reach over and grab your arm. Though the shirt impedes some of the pain, <<if $touch is 1>>Though the shirt impedes some of the pain, you still release a hiss that Nour can only answer with an apologetic glance.<<else>>the pain from their touch still causes a reaction and you are just barely quick enough to mask it. If their focus had been solely set on you, they would have noticed the way you flinch, thankfully that is not the case.<</if>> "It wasn't a request. Go!" Before they can release you, a guard grabs Nour's tail, causing them to shriek in both shock and pain, and they turn around, forgetting about you as they pounce on their opponent. Thankfully, Nour is not alone. The sound of a creature roaring garners all of your attention, and you turn to see a black griffin diving towards you, ineptly landing but successfully causing those near Nour to back away. <a data-passage="2.08N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Like Xeno has pointed out, you are no fighter. You have no combat experience, and only due to the obviousness did you even know which end of the sword should grace another's skin. You are unable to do anything but be a hindrance, and no doubt if you charge in, then Nour will be unfocused. And so, you stay off to the side, attempting to watch the fight when the sound of a creature roaring garners your attention. You turn to see a black griffin diving towards you, ineptly landing but successfully causing those near Nour to back away. <a data-passage="2.08N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I don't want to hear it," Nour growls, wiping a trace of blood from their upper lip. The three guards shift, two proving to be wolves and the other a bear. Nour is the only one who does not transform, and they charge forward. The scene becomes bloody, and somewhere between it beginning, and now, you lose sight of Tyrae. You take a cautious step back, your heart hammering as you glance for any view of the woman who means to do you harm. Your back hits the temple's door, and before you can decide if you wish to seek sanctuary within or not, it opens, and someone grabs you. You land with a harsh thud, the pain echoing through your body as a figure places their knee on your chest. "Always such a hassle," Tyrae grunts. She holds up her finger, and an unrecognizable symbol appears in the air. It begins to glow before dissipating, and a new force overpowers you, keeping you down. She grabs a small vial, places it in her palm, and whispers some words so that the contents boil and steam. "I have come too far for it all to mean nothing, all because you have found yourself a savior." [[“Get off me!”|N2.08GetOff][$anger +=3; $ch2drunk to true]] [[“Please, don't.”|N2.08Please][$sad +=3; $ch2drunk to true]] [[Black out.|N2.08BlackOut][$numb +=3; $ch2drunk to true]]
You thrash, though the force is unbudging. You waste energy but move nowhere, causing all of it to feel rather pointless in the end. "I am so close," she growls, opening the flask and holding it to your mouth. There is little you can do besides keep your mouth closed, and that is what you do, pressing your lips firmly together and focusing all of your efforts into keeping it that way. "I don't have time for this." You feel a sharp, reverberating pain in your leg, and instinct takes over. Your lips part, and you scream in agony just as Tyrae pours the contents of the bottle into your mouth and then places her hand over it. Your only option is to swallow, lest you wish to choke due to your angle and the pressure she applies. "You will not take this from her," she says through gritted teeth. <<include "2.08.1N">>
"Please don't," you cry out, feeling the tears that wish to be shed. You escaped nothing; agony and despair will constantly follow you no matter where you go. It will only leave once death has appeared, claiming you for itself and putting an end to it all. "Do not behave as if you have not done this before," she growls, opening the flask and holding it to your mouth. There is little you can do besides keep your mouth closed, and that is what you do, pressing your lips firmly together and focusing all of your efforts into keeping it that way. "I don't have time for this." You feel a sharp, reverberating pain in your leg, and instinct takes over. Your lips part, and you scream in agony just as Tyrae pours the contents of the bottle into your mouth and then places her hand over it. Your only option is to swallow, lest you wish to choke due to your angle and the pressure she applies. "You will not take this from her," she says through gritted teeth. <<include "2.08.1N">>
This is the worse time for such a thing to happen, but your body has grown accustomed to it. You go stiff, all emotion and feeling faltering until they completely froze. Your body tenses enough to await what is to come, doing its best to numb your pain sensors and to keep the worse of it from wracking your body. "This is for the betterment of all," she growls, opening the flask and holding it to your mouth. You don't fight her as she works your lips apart and pours the contents of the bottle into your mouth. She places her hand there, keeping you from spitting the concoction back up. Your only option is to swallow, lest you wish to choke due to your angle and the pressure she applies. "For her," Tyrae whispers, more to herself than to you. <<include "2.08.1N">>
This pain is familiar, unlike the pain you felt earlier. Like molten lava spreading through you, coating your insides before burning and clawing at what remains. Only this pain also seems to cause parts of you to hum, as if some part of you has now been satisfied. Agony fills you, and though you're not sure, due to you not remembering, you believe that you do the same thing every time this fate befalls you. Your body shuts down, and your world goes black. <a data-passage="2.08.2N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $mc +=1>><</nobr>>\ Something nudges you and languidly your eyes open, only to clamp back shut due to the sun streaming down from overhead. //"Come on, $name, I'm bored," you hear the figure beside you whine. Soon following that is the feeling of something tickling the bridge of your nose. You move away, swatting the tail out of your face and grinning up at the boy sitting beside you, his face portraying his earlier words. "Well, take a nap," you sigh blithely, sitting up and stretching out your slowly awakening body. "I did that this morning!" he complains, throwing his head back to add a comical twist to his theatrics. "No," you stand and lean in towards him, "that was sleep. I'm saying you should take a nap." You flick his nose, and he scrunches it up. For a while, he sits there saying nothing. And then, he pounces. You shriek, far too slow to avoid his lunge and the two of you go tumbling, fighting for the upper hand while giggling all the while. The contest drags on for a few minutes later, and in the end, a far more energetic Nour finds himself the champion. He sits on your chest with a triumphant grin, his prize, the knowledge that he has bested you once again. "Get off me," you giggle, shoving him weakly until he finally rises, extending his hand to help you as well. He peers at you, and with a quick shove, he darts off, and you give chase. You rush across arched marble stone bridges and through speckled cobblestone streets. Narrowly avoiding the passersby that simply dodge and sigh, shouting after you to slow down, and those who merely chuckle for kids will be kids. When your legs begin to burn and your lungs yearning for not only a break but air as well, you find yourself in a field of lava lilies. Their mid-afternoon blush darkening as they make their transition into a more rustic shade.// <a data-passage="2.08.3N"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//The two of you head to a tree and sit, leaning against one another for a kind of support that the tree itself could not provide. "Are you still bored?" you ask. "No," he pouts, "I'm tired. Kind of hungry." "You can never just sit and enjoy the day," you chuckle. The sullen look on his face redoubles, and when you laugh, he looks away, wrapping his tail around his arm. "I can too." "It's okay. I like doing things with you. Whether it's just relaxing or having fun." You nudge him, and like you thought, your words cause his glower to vanish, replaced by his radiating smile. "I do too," he whispers, and the two of you descend into silence, watching as the wind rehearses with the lilies, directing their petals and stems.// [[Story End->DemoEnd]]
<<nobr>>\<input type="checkbox" id="fullscreen"><label for="fullscreen" class="gofullscreen"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'FullScreenGo_white.png'" alt="Go full screen" title="Go full screen" class="fullscreenImg"></label><label for="fullscreen" class="exitfullscreen"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'FullScreenExit_white.png'" alt="Exit full screen" title="Exit full screen" class="fullscreenImg"></label> <a data-passage="Compendium"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'Codex.png'" alt="Settings" title="Compendium" class="fullscreenImg" style="top: 75px; left: 250px;"></a> <</nobr>>\
<a href="https://13leaguestories.tumblr.com/"><img class="img-invert" src="images/logo.png"></a>
© 2022-2024 Bum Studios LLC DEMO //Throne of Ashes// contains violence, gore, strong language, sexual content, and sensitive topics such as trauma, sexual/physical/emotional abuse, suicide, depression, etc. that may be disturbing to some readers. This story is intended for mature audiences only. Reader discretion is advised.~~
<<link '<i class="fas fa-feather-pointed"></i> Stat View' "Stat View">><</link>> <<link '<i class="fas fa-book-skull"></i> Compendium' "Compendium">><</link>>
/* Personality and Skills */ <<set $name to "Unknown"; $surname to "Unknown">> <<set $gender to "Not Chosen"; $trans to false>> <<set $timid to 50; $leery to 50; $positive to 50>> <<set $stealth to 0; $force to 0; $charisma to 0>> <<set $stars to 0; $acrobat to 0; $nature to 0; $music to 0; $art to 0>> <<set $anger to 0; $sad to 0; $numb to 0; $trait to "unknown">> <<set $region to "not chosen"; $markings to "present"; $eyes to "not chosen"; $hair to "not chosen"; $length to "not chosen"; $type to "not chosen"; $height to "not chosen"; $beard to "not chosen"; $scar to "not chosen">> <<set $vegan to false; $pesca to false; $prayer to false>> /* Relationships and Affiliates */ <<set $prologuefin to false>> <<set $fbond to "undecided">> <<set $ruben to 50; $ozara to 50; $nour to 50; $zarik to 50; $makaio to 50>> <<set $rubendraco to false; $ozarakallippos to false; $nourgryps to false; $zarikalasherath to false; $makaiosisou to false>> <<set $lockR to "na"; $lockO to "na"; $lockN to "na"; $lockZ to "na"; $lockM to "na">> /* Ruben Variables */ <<set $vigor to 50; $smart to 50>> <<set $clan to 20; $draxmil to 10>> <<set $r_nn to "NA">> <<set $runruben to false; $runruben2 to false>> <<set $arrangement to false>> <<set $shift to false>> <<set $mauveokti to false; $r_bet to false; $r_bet_dress to false; $r_bet_suit to false>> <<set $lutegiven to false>> <<set $handwarm to false; $flamefound to false; $flame to 0>> <<set $invitation to false; $abusetalk_level to 0; $tozhelp_level to 0; $stage to 0; $kiss to 0; $top to 0; $bl to 0>> <<set $chunaecomment to false; $hurtcomment to false; $towerknown to false; $remember to false>> <<set $besobad to false; $accepted to false; $refused to false>> <<set $rubentent to false; $rubentent2 to false; $r_sex to false>> <<set $brallyesu to false; $brallyesu_won to false; $leiksword to false>> <<set $sword to false; $burnlaurens to false; $laurenskill to false>> <<set $family_ruben to false; $twin1 to "unknown"; $twin2 to "unknown">> <<set $rc_1 to false; $rc_3 to false; $rc_4 to false; $rc_5 to false; $rc_6 to false; $rc_7 to false; $rc_8 to false; $rc_9 to false; $rc_10 to false>> /* Ozara Variables */ <<set $guilt to 50; $heart to 50; $tower to 50>> <<set $trio to 30>> <<set $o_nn to "unknown">> <<set $nyana to "unknown"; $nyanatrust to false; $nyanabetray to false>> <<set $fear to "not chosen"; $mastery to 0>> <<set $llecknown to false>> <<set $goback to false>> <<set $stone to false>> <<set $oc_1 to false; $oc_2 to false>> /* Nour Variables */ <<set $spirit to 50; $memory to 50; $trust to 50>> <<set $team to 50>> <<set $connection to 0; $toxic to false>> <<set $xhonesty to false>> <<set $nourknows to false; $touch is 0>> <<set $dancenour to false>> <<set $ch2drunk to false>> <<set $twinstatus to "nothing">> <<set $pform to false>> <<set $dead_mikitas to false; $protector to "unknown">> <<set $nour_kiss; $toxickiss to false>> <<set $nc_1 to false; $nc_2 to false; $nc_3 to false; $nc_4 to false; $nc_5 to false; $nc_6 to false>> /* Zarik Variables */ <<set $action to 50; $trouble to 50; $cold to 50>> <<set $dp = false; $jal to 20; $unit to 50>> <<set $purpose to "unknown">> <<set $leopard = false>> <<set $nametold = false; $monster = false; $avenged = false; $culturerumors = false>> <<set $basilisklake = false; $zariksun = false>> <<set $language to 0; $earlylearning = false; $songstory = false>> <<set $joinme_ruben to 0; $joinme_ozara to 0>> <<set $zc_2 to false>> /* Makaio Variables */ <<set $mouthy to 50; $loner to 50; $lost to 50>> <<set $family to 50; $voice to 50>> <<set $phearn_rescue = false; $phearn_sick = false>> <<set $saabiq_teach = false>> /* Misc Variables */ <<set $nosa to false; $notouchy to false; $sexneg to false; $aro to false>> <<set $route_ruben to false; $route_ozara to false; $route_nour to false; $route_zarik to false; $route_makaio to false>> <<set $vO = false; $vN = false; $vR = false; $vZ = false; $vM = false>> <<set $visit to 0>> /* Music */ <<cacheaudio "theme" "audio/freedom_in_fire.wav">> <<cacheaudio "opening" "audio/remember_me.wav">> <<cacheaudio "opening2" "audio/sad_story.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "opening3" "audio/wash_away.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambient1" "audio/soft_ambient_piano_drone.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambient2" "audio/deep_dreamy_piano.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambient3" "audio/ambient_indie_folk.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambient4" "audio/dramatic_indie_folk.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambient5" "audio/morning_skies.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark1" "audio/dark_ambient_cinematic_piano.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark2" "audio/a_dark_mind.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark3" "audio/dark_atmosphere.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark4" "audio/minimalist_drama.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark5" "audio/dark_tension.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark6" "audio/knowing.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "romance1" "audio/relaxation_piano.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "romance2" "audio/romantic_minimalist_piano.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "phoenix1" "audio/mirrors.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "deathofadragon" "audio/calming_ombre.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "death" "audio/sad_funeral_march.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "afterlife" "audio/still.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ending" "audio/inspiring_emotional.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "epilogue" "audio/village_ambiance.mp3">> <<createplaylist "ambient">> <<track "ambient1" volume 0.40>> <<track "ambient2" volume 0.40>> <<track "ambient3" volume 0.40>> <<track "ambient4" volume 0.40>> <<track "ambient5" volume 0.40>> <</createplaylist>> <<createplaylist "dark">> <<track "dark1" volume 0.40>> <<track "dark2" volume 0.40>> <<track "dark3" volume 0.40>> <<track "dark4" volume 0.40>> <<track "dark5" volume 0.40>> <<track "dark6" volume 0.40>> <</createplaylist>> <<createplaylist "romance">> <<track "romance1" volume 0.40>> <<track "romance2" volume 0.40>> <</createplaylist>> /*Story starts here*/
You are a child of the illustrious House Phoenix. A beacon and a reminder of all the strength and pride that your house possesses. But running through your blood is a vile curse, one that will not only see the end of you but spell the end of your family and line. Ripped from the life you knew and with an uncertain future looming ahead, you must decide for yourself how strong you are and who truly steers your destiny. Save yourself and help change the fates of those you find yourself holding close to your heart as you fight to break a curse and uncover your fire. //Throne of Ashes is rated Mature. It contains violence, traumatic events, sexual content, and sensitive topics such as abuse, suicide, depression, etc. and may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion advised.// <img src="images/divider.png"> <table class="center"> <tr> <th><a data-passage="Play the Game"><img src="images/playgame.png" alt="Play the Game"/></a></th> </tr> <tr> <th><a data-passage="Credits"><img src="images/credits.png" alt="Credits"/></a></th> </tr> </table>
Before you delve into the game, let’s get a few character-building choices out of the way. To start, please choose your intended pronouns as well as your gender. Be sure to ''choose your pronouns first''. You can also change these pronouns any time you like by viewing the left sidebar and going to ''Settings''. ''For the //looks// choice. Feel free to add whatever adjective you please.'' <<link 'Choose your pronouns here.'>> <<pronouns>> <</link>> And now onto your gender and sex. Both the sex and chest option is needed exclusively only for sexual content. Note that if you choose ''No Disclose'' as your sex then sex scenes, regardless of the explicit content being on/off, will be modified. //Remember to view ''Settings'' located on the left sidebar to make sure all notifications and that explicit content is where you wish it to be.// <<set _gender = ["Cis Male", "Trans Male", "Cis Female", "Trans Female", "Nonbinary"]>>''Select gender:'' <<listbox "$gender">> <<optionsfrom _gender>> <</listbox>> ''Gender:'' <span id="gender-info">(nothing)</span><<script>> $(document).one(":passagerender", function (event) { /* Initial display of text pulled from the "gender Info X" passages. */ $(event.content).find("#gender-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Gender Info " + State.variables.gender + "'>>"); /* Trigger text display upon listbox change. */ $(event.content).find("#listbox-gender").on("change", function (event) { /* Fade out text. */ $("#gender-info").fadeOut(500, function () { /* Update text and then fade it back in. */ $("#gender-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Gender Info " + State.variables.gender + "'>>").fadeIn(500); }); }); }); <</script>> <<set _sex = ["No Disclose", "Vagina", "Penis"]>>''Select sex:'' <<listbox "$sex">> <<optionsfrom _sex>> <</listbox>> ''Sex:'' <span id="sex-info">(nothing)</span><<script>> $(document).one(":passagerender", function (event) { /* Initial display of text pulled from the "Sex Info X" passages. */ $(event.content).find("#sex-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Sex Info " + State.variables.sex + "'>>"); /* Trigger text display upon listbox change. */ $(event.content).find("#listbox-sex").on("change", function (event) { /* Fade out text. */ $("#sex-info").fadeOut(500, function () { /* Update text and then fade it back in. */ $("#sex-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Sex Info " + State.variables.sex + "'>>").fadeIn(500); }); }); }); <</script>> <<set _chest = ["Breasts Present", "Breasts Not Present"]>>''Select chest:'' <<listbox "$chest">> <<optionsfrom _chest>> <</listbox>> ''Chest:'' <span id="chest-info">(nothing)</span><<script>> $(document).one(":passagerender", function (event) { /* Initial display of text pulled from the "Chest Info X" passages. */ $(event.content).find("#chest-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Chest Info " + State.variables.chest + "'>>"); /* Trigger text display upon listbox change. */ $(event.content).find("#listbox-chest").on("change", function (event) { /* Fade out text. */ $("#chest-info").fadeOut(500, function () { /* Update text and then fade it back in. */ $("#chest-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Chest Info " + State.variables.chest + "'>>").fadeIn(500); }); }); }); <</script>> <a data-passage="Name"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Next, a name. You will be able to choose both your first and surname. [[Ryze.|Surname][$name = "Ryze"]] [[Genesis.|Surname][$name = "Genesis"]] [[Solaris.|Surname][$name = "Solaris"]] [[Lumino.|Surname][$name = "Lumino"]] [[Jaresiah.|Surname][$name = "Jaresiah"]] [[Azaliah.|Surname][$name = "Azaliah"]] [[Rei.|Surname][$name = "Rei"]] [[Noranti.|Surname][$name = "Noranti"]] [[Corban.|Surname][$name = "Corban"]] [[Input your own.|InsertName]]
Please insert a name. <<textbox "$name" "" autofocus>><<button "Enter">><<replace "#name">>Nice to meet you, $name.<</replace>><</button>> <span id="name"></span> <a data-passage="Surname"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
And now your surname. Though you may choose whichever surname you see fit, those given all have to do with fire due to your family being ancient and of royal line. It is similar for all head of houses. [[Brand.|Appearance][$surname = "Brand"]] [[Eld.|Appearance][$surname = "Eld"]] [[Pyre.|Appearance][$surname = "Pyre"]] [[Vulcan.|Appearance][$surname = "Vulcan"]] [[Azar.|Appearance][$surname = "Azar"]] [[Input your own.|InsertSurname]]
Please insert a surname. <<textbox "$surname" "" autofocus>><<button "Enter">><<replace "#surname">>Nice to meet you, $surname.<</replace>><</button>> <span id="surname"></span> <a data-passage="Appearance"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Now it is time for your appearance. In order to stay close to the ethnic appearance of what House Phoenix looks like, not all colors are given. Different appearances will change some of the flavoring of the story, as well as how the LI's react due to them having their own preferences. There are also three different regions that you can be from: Jaro, Reno, or Adero. This will mostly change your markings and in certain routes, add more conversation. Your name is $name $surname with ?she/?her pronouns. You are a $region Phoenix with $markings markings. You have $eyes eyes and <<if $length isnot "bald">>$length, $type and $hair hair.<<else>>are bald.<</if>> You are also $height for your height. <<if $gender is "male" or $trans>><<if $beard is "none">>You cannot grow a beard.<<elseif $beard is "nb">>You don't have a beard.<<else>>You have a $beard beard.<</if>><</if>> //Tip: On the left sidebar is a [[Stat View]] that gives you a more in-depth look at yourself and the choices you've made thus far.// ''Type of Phoenix (Click here for [[Marking Info|Lore]])'' <<if ndef $region>><<set $region = "Jaro">><</if>><<listbox "$region">> <<option "Jaro / Southern" "Jaro" `$region == "Jaro" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Reno / Coastal" "Reno" `$region == "Reno" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Adero / Northern" "Adero" `$region == "Adero" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Phoenix Markings'' <<if ndef $markings>><<set $markings = "present">><</if>><<listbox "$markings">> <<option "Present" "present" `$markings == "present" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Absent" "absent" `$markings == "absent" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Eye Color'' <<if ndef $eyes>><<set $eyes = "gold">><</if>><<listbox "$eyes">> <<option "Gold" "gold" `$eyes == "gold" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Black" "black" `$eyes == "black" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Grey" "grey" `$eyes == "grey" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Red" "red" `$eyes == "red" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Brown" "brown" `$eyes == "brown" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Peach" "peach" `$eyes == "peach" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Length of Hair'' <<if ndef $length>><<set $length = "long">><</if>><<listbox "$length">> <<option "Bald" "bald" `$length == "bald" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Short" "short" `$length == "short" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Medium" "medium" `$length == "medium" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Long" "long" `$length == "long" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Color of Hair'' <<if ndef $hair>><<set $hair = "black">><</if>><<listbox "$hair">> <<option "Black" "black" `$hair == "black" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Brown" "brown" `$hair == "brown" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Red" "red" `$hair == "red" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Ginger" "ginger" `$hair == "ginger" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Blonde" "blonde" `$hair == "blonde" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "White" "white" `$hair == "white" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Type of Hair'' <<if ndef $type>><<set $type = "dreads">><</if>><<listbox "$type">> <<option "Straight" "straight" `$type == "straight" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Curly" "curly" `$type == "curly" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Wavy" "wavy" `$type == "wavy" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Kinky" "kinky" `$type == "kinky" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Braids" "braids" `$type == "braids" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Dreads" "dreads" `$type == "dreads" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Height'' <<if ndef $height>><<set $height = "average">><</if>><<listbox "$height">> <<option "Very Short" "very short" `$height == "very short" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Short" "short" `$height == "short" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Average" "average" `$height == "average" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Tall" "tall" `$height == "tall" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Very Tall" "very tall" `$height == "very tall" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> <<if $gender is "male" or $gender is "nonbinary" or $trans>>\ ''Beard Length'' <<if ndef $beard>><<set $beard = "short">><</if>><<listbox "$beard">> <<option "Cannot grow beard" "none" `$beard == "none" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "No beard" "nb" `$beard == "nb" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Short" "short" `$beard == "short" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Medium" "medium" `$beard == "medium" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Long" "long" `$beard == "long" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> <</if>>\ [[Reload this Page.|Appearance]] [[Move on.|Triggers]]
This story contains a great deal of dark themes and content that may be triggering to certain individuals. Areas will be flagged appropriately but there are times where both routes will still lead to such content due to being an integral part of the game. //E.g., on Ruben's route you are presented with two choices but both hold content dealing with physical abuse.// The list below details what content can be seen in each route. Sensitive topics such as depression and suicide can be found in all. It should also be noted that each path, save for Makaio's, includes the presence of an abuser, please exercise caution and know your limits. * Ruben's Route: Heavy physical abuse. * Nour's Route: Addiction, withdrawal, and experimentation. * Ozara's Route: Emotional and mental abuse as well as gaslighting techniques. * Zarik's Route: Grooming, physical abuse, and possession. * Makaio's Route: Heavy focus on anxiety and emotional abuse. If any of these themes bother you then please exercise caution and keep them in mind when choosing a route. On certain routes, the main character can be a victim of sexual abuse in this story. If you would like to opt out of anything dealing with such theme then please reflect that with your choice below. Otherwise, this theme and conversations surrounding it will be featured in the story. This story ''DOES NOT'' contain rape scenes and always stops at physical sexual harrassment. Furthermore, neither Nour's, Zarik's, or Makaio's route holds this theme while Ruben and Ozara hold different variations of the issue. [[I wish to NOT see sexual abuse in the story.|ReadyUp][$nosa = true]] [[I am okay with seeing sexual abuse in the story.|ReadyUp]]
<<nobr>> <<audio "opening" volume 0.4 loop play>> <</nobr>> <a data-passage="Opening"><img src="images/title.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
@@.center; <span class="quote">Hear me, Sun. Be my witness on this somber and mournful day. I swear a curse on the House of Fire. A curse that will see the end of their flame.</span> @@ "Are you ready?" Jada questions, holding you close to her bosom. Despite the overwhelming glee in her voice, she's trembling as she keeps you near, quite against releasing you. "<<link 'Kii'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Jawsīc'>>found in the Jawsīc language. (kiː/ n.) mother. <span class="sidenote">Should also be noted that in certain circumstances this is not always used for birth mother.</span><</dialog>><</link>>," you draw out, fidgeting uncomfortably in her grasp. You look up at the sky, and the colors of dusk stare back—the coming of another sunset and the promise of another nightfall. The land will sleep until the sun once again shines its light to awaken all. You take in the faded pinks and the effulgent golds. The stretches of red that vehemently clash against the more demure, deep seafoam greens. A hearth of color for the eye to explore and grasp for its own amazement. "A sky of fire," your father sighs, now standing beside you and working carefully to separate you from your mother. "Let ?her go, <<link 'kěamo'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Jawsīc'>>found in the Jawsīc language. (kɛumo/ n.) A term of endearment used amongst phoenixes and dragons. Means 'the flame of my heart.' Has also been known to mean 'the blaze of my soul.'<</dialog>><</link>>. Or do you wish to keep ?her_ fire contained?" His words cause her to drawback immediately, almost as if she was burned by your touch. She glances away, part of her appearing bashful for her actions. <a data-passage="0.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
@@.center; <span class="quote">Let it taint the lands and mar the air. For as long as there is a line, let this curse flourish and grow. Let it infect their wombs and run rampant through their blood.</span> @@ Guided by your father, the two of you approach the other children who are lining up before your instructor. “Are you ready to soar, my little light?” [[Be anxious.][$timid +=10; $positive +=10]] [[Be excited.][$timid -=10; $positive +=10]] [[Be aloof.][$timid -=10; $positive -=10]] [[Be terrified.][$timid +=10; $positive -=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ Hopeful ++</span><</if>> "I … I'm nervous," you state, kicking up particles of dirt and watching as the wind catches them, depositing them elsewhere. "Now, why would my brightest light be nervous? You have waited for this day for so long." "It's different," you manage to squeak out. You glance over at the others. All of them were ready to fly and show their loved ones that they, too, would be joining the ranks of great phoenixes. <a data-passage="0.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ Hopeful ++</span><</if>> Hardly able to control yourself, you tremble in place. You are more than ready to transform and greet your mature wings. The same wings that will be with you for the rest of your life. This day will mark the first of many. “I want to be up there already,” you tell him, and he squeezes your shoulders. “Patience, you will,” he chuckles deeply, and leans in to whisper, “and when you do, try not to embarrass the others.” With a pause, he shakes his head, “too much.” <a data-passage="0.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ Bleak ++</span><</if>> You glance at the sky and try to evoke some kind of feeling, but you continuously feel indifferent. You weren’t excited, but you also weren’t nervous about what was to come. Everyone went through this, and whether you were primed would soon be seen. Backing out of it wasn’t a possibility, and even if it was, you were far too interested in your own self-growth. You glance back at your father and shrug, “I am ready, I suppose?” “That’s my little flame,” he chuckles, “keep that fair-minded attitude. It shall take you farther than you know.” <a data-passage="0.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ Bleak ++</span><</if>> "I'm scared. What if something happens? What if I'm not ready?" The despair in your chest broadens, ready to swallow you whole as the time to act closes in. Adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream, your heart pounding as if finally prepared to escape its cage. You inhale slowly, but every breath following was done in rapid succession. "Look at me," your father says, softly grabbing your hand and kneeling, "you are ready. I have known no one more prepared for this than you. No longer will you just hop and flutter. For today," your father brings you close and offers a warm hug, "you will fly." The hope in his voice is contagious, spreading through you and calming your frightful heart. <a data-passage="0.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
@@.center; <span class="quote">I curse the brightest light that shall crawl from the wicked womb of the Phoenix. Let them know nothing but pain and torment.</span> @@ With one last squeeze, your father retreats as you take your place at the end of the line. "Cadets," your instructor shouts, attempting to hide his gratified smile. Ultimately, he fails. You even believe to see a tear roll down the captious man's face. "Today, you graduate in the most reputable way possible. On the first night of Bright Soul, you prove to all of us that you should be counted amongst the great phoenixes. Whose fire not only lights the sky but also soothes it." He inhales and closes his eyes. "Are you ready?" "Yes," you all shout in unison. "Then fly. Transform and take to the sky!" Like rehearsed, the first person rushes forward, transforming and flapping their wings vigorously as they go. Soon, the next shoots forward, and then the one after that. Some take off quicker than others, causing their families to roar in approval. For, it is always the first of those in the sky that grab the most attention. They are believed to be the most talented and develop into the best flyers. A few have not yet taken off, their struggles evident as they push themselves harder. Perhaps it's too early for them, or it's just that fate has chosen for them to remain grounded. One after another, those you call classmates rise up into the sky. But you can feel it; the pull of everyone's eyes on you: you, the brightest amongst them. The one everyone believes will outshine all those nearby. It's your turn, and with a deep breath, you spring forward. You transform. Behind you, the roar of the crowd, the many eyes watching as you flutter and flap your wings. You gain velocity. The land is no longer underneath your feet. You flap wings not yet truly tested nor used, and thus your muscles burn and ache due to the discovery. But your adrenaline drives you forward and skyward. <a data-passage="0.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
@@.center; <span class="quote">Let their soul be as dark as the smoldering sky above and their wings be like the ash of those whose pleas went unheard.</span> @@ “That is my ?daughter!” you hear your father shout, his voice distant but audible. This is a freedom you did not expect. You have listened to the older generation speak about it, each of them comparing it to something different. But their words weren’t enough. The feeling of the wind as it strikes the fire along your wings or the act of inhaling the parting of the day. It feels like you are as part of the sky as the distant stars and the hovering clouds. [[Just keep flying.][$timid +=10]] [[Do some tricks.][$timid -=10]] [[Test your speed.]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> You are far too focused on staying elevated in the sky to even begin to imagine yourself doing anything more. Your muscles are not accustomed to this exercise, and despite how many times you trained, they are not yet ready for more. <<include "0.02.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> Your muscles are perhaps not ready, but you are. This new sensation and the knowledge of eyes on you causes your excitement to soar farther than you know it can. You envision yourself darting through the sky, flipping and fluttering your wings as you do aerial acrobatics. There is a limit, and you exercise some caution, but mostly you do what you envision. <<include "0.02.1">>
You are curious how fast you can go. You know your muscles, despite your training, are not yet ready for strenuous activity, but perhaps you can push them. You take in a deep breath and surge forward, flapping your wings to a new and faster-paced rhythm. You're doing it. The speed is nothing to brag about, but for your first flight, it's exceptional. <<include "0.02.1">>
The coming seconds are met with confusion, a rush halted by a sudden wall. It appears out of nowhere and brings severe bewilderment and devastation with it. The smell is caustic and vile, infiltrating your nose and threatening your altitude. When you glance back, you see that it is coming from you. Your once beautiful wings of fire and plume are no more, bit by bit, feather after feather turns into the blackest of ash. Until there is no more. The feeling of being choked overwhelms you. You have somehow flown into the clutches of an obstinate adversary. Their grip tightens, and your eyes widen in shock as you fight to breathe. They pluck at your feathers, skinning you. Leaving only that of your skeleton, a charred outline that can only hint at what is meant to exist there. You fall. And the pain blossoms ... [[... along your shoulder.|0.03][$scar = "shoulder"]] [[... on your back.|0.03][$scar = "back"]] [[... across your chest.|0.03][$scar = "chest"]]
@@.center; <span class="quote">Let only His mighty light be the savior for only He, the true light, can take away what I curse them with.</span> @@ You close your eyes as your body quivers. Scathing pain, humiliation, terror all pelting your prone form with a viciousness you have never encountered. A misery so vile that it will haunt you for years to come. A foreign metallic taste teems into your mouth, growing immensely to where you have no other choice but to let it spew out. You can hear muttering. Gasps and whispers of bad omens and the coming of dark days. Somewhere amongst the voices, you believe you even catch talk of curses. It matters little to you. Your mind is far too tumultuous, jerking from one realization to the next before finally stopping on the one you know to be true. Your wings have turned to ash. Where once you can feel every part of your phoenix form, you now feel an emptiness. It feels as if someone has set fire to your back, clawing at it with savage intention. And the fire … the fire should not phase you. You are the epitome of it. The feeling of fire against your skin should be as natural as your own touch. Tears creep along your cheeks as you lay there, unable to even curl up due to your injuries. You wish to hide your face, thus veiling the agony and shame. It hurts. Everything hurts. <a data-passage="0.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
@@.center; <span class="quote">Only then will I consider my payment done. When the last of their line is reborn before Sun.</span> @@ <a data-passage="0.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<audio "opening" fadeout>> <<audio "opening2" volume 0.4 loop play>> <</nobr>>\ Time begins to show its true essence to you after that. Days of pain went by, and those days morphed into weeks. The seasons keep shifting, and some are far better than others. There are times where you feel the air rush through your lungs, and the sudden ingrained desire to fly overcomes you. Only to be quelled by the reminder of why you're in pain and of the lasting scar that no amount of magic can rid you of. Time has shown you your fragility. That you, all of you, is the weakness. Your mind, your body, and even your spirit. All of it can be broken and trampled upon, kicked and toyed with until time is content. You feel like a fragile puppet, waiting for someone to walk in and take hold of your hands to direct you appropriately. But you have since found your own personal ether, your mind, no matter how frangible it is. Away from the world and its machinations. Away from those who speak with strange words for which you have no translation. Away from your parents' sobs and harsh tones and the gaze of familiar eyes as they look upon you with pity. <img src="images/divider.png"> The carriage jolts, stealing your current line of thought and causing you to tune back into your surroundings. You carefully breathe in the frigid frost of <<link 'Celesow'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Celesow is the last month in the year and is also the coldest and one of the longest. It is the month of trials. When Celesow strikes, it is much like Monsuna, striking without care. It's cold weather rushes in and chills the bones of all. Celesow challenges those living, testing their preparedness and all that they learned that year. Many see Celesow as the season that will make or break an individual. //Forbidden Lands roughly sees near 145 days of Celesow.//<</dialog>><</link>>, gritting your teeth when the dreadful chill settles into your already weak bones. You glance over at the servant there to help you. [[Ask her for another blanket.][$positive +=10]] [[Withstand the cold.][$positive -=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> You clear your throat, and she immediately looks up, putting down her embroidery hoop. "Can you give me another blanket?" "Of course, Your Highness. I am terribly sorry." She continues to apologize as she grabs another thick blanket and, with careful movements, tucks it around you. A new wave of warmth begins to overtake you. "Whoa," you hear one of the drivers shout loudly, followed by skeptical shouts from who you can only presume are the other escorts. <<include "0.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> You grumble to yourself and pull the blanket that you did possess closer. A jolt of pain rocks your body, and after riding the galling wave, you settle back down. You disliked how much they fussed over you already and aren't enthusiastic about bringing more of said attention. You will just focus and hope that this blanket will create enough heat for the remainder of the ride. Heat. Though phoenixes abhor Celesow, they are still able to warm themselves. All of you have been created with a fire buried deep inside you, a never dimming kiln that is brighter and stronger than all others. You believed your brush with death two years ago an anomalous accident. But, your wings never returned. Your fire, nothing more than an obscure pocket. You have heard the healers say that your body still retains a blaze, but they know not how to get it back to what it once was. <<include "0.06">>
"What's going on?" you question. The servant turns to you, but before she can say anything, an explosion rocks the carriage. You scream as you go flying through the air, your ears ringing and pain eclipsing all other feelings as you land in the fresh snow. Your vision is blurry as the distant screams and shouts envelop you. You attempt to center yourself when a pair of arms harshly grab you. [[Fight them off.][$leery +=10]] [[Cling onto them.][$leery -=10]] [[Do nothing.|0Nothing]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Leery ++</span><</if>> You bare your teeth, twisting as you claw whoever it is away. A spark of heat in your abdomen tells you to stop, and you fall to the ground in a contorted heap. You can only glance up to see who it is, shocked when you spot the colors of your house and the wide-eyed soldier who only wishes to help. You begin to apologize when a bolt of lightning hits them square in the chest, and they fall to their fate. You hardly have time to react as another explosion goes off. Burying your face in the snow, you beg for everything to stop, to calm down, and for clarity to reassert itself. <<include "0.07">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Naive ++</span><</if>> You cling onto them as tightly as the fear grips you. They grunt but follow it up with soothing shushes, one hand supporting you while the other rubs circles on the back of your neck. You glance up to see who it is, nonplussed to see a soldier. You form your mouth to thank them when a bolt of lightning hits them square in the chest, and they fall to their fate. You hardly have time to react as another explosion goes off. Burying your face in the snow, you beg for everything to stop, to calm down, and for clarity to reassert itself. <<include "0.07">>
You make no move, neither hindering whoever grabbed you nor assisting them. You are a limp body; this made evident through their desperate grunts. They handle you gently, moving you just enough for you to see their face — a soldier. You attempt to stand when a bolt of lightning hits them square in the chest, and they fall to their fate. You hardly have time to react as another explosion goes off. Burying your face in the snow, you beg for everything to stop, to calm down, and for clarity to reassert itself. <<include "0.07">>
You once again remember that day that never quite feels as far away as it should. How the pain ravished your body, full on your wails and drunk on salty tears. How blood blinded you and the darkness, no longer fearful, snaked in from the edges. How your fall not only burdened your body but also your soul. One minute you were invulnerable, a master of the skies and a predator weary of none and above all. And then, just like now. It all burns away. <img src="images/divider.png"> Your consciousness goes in and out. Fire surrounds you, raging war with the carriages but nerveless when forced to face the snow. "Is this ?her?" someone asks. "Looks like it. Grab ?her and come on. We're done here." <a data-passage="0.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<a data-passage="0.08.1"><img src="images/openinglater.png" alt="15 Years Later" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<audio "opening2" fadeout>> <<audio "opening3" volume 0.4 loop play>> <</nobr>> And with the last instructions given, the Caller of the Birds release the final <<link 'phearns'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Phearns are an aerial creature that can be found throughout most of the Forbidden Land besides the arctic and prairie biomes. It can also be found in the jungles of Pryce. They are mainly trained as messenger birds but are also highly sought after pets. They eat mostly large nuts and fruits but are also known to go after insects. They can be found mainly in trees and burrows, any place that gives protection from both the sun and predators. With this said, they are mainly nocturnal creatures, and their tail feathers will produce a light glow during this time.<</dialog>><</link>>, watching as the vibrant sangria bird flies off into the night. The glowing markings along its tail fading as the distance increases. "I am still shocked over the letter," one of the handlers speak, turning to his colleagues with a raised brow, "we have yet to hear anything from the Arch Flames and then suddenly, multiple messages for all the houses?" "You question that while I still question why they care," another huffs, "they have not cared for that child since they were taken." The eldest growls, "hush, you know that to be a lie." Their voices raise and carry as each handler gives volume to their opinions. Only one stays silent, the Caller of the Birds who first brought the messages to the cage. Years ago, the phoenixes went quiet. The torches stayed unlit, and though times are prosperous, a dark storm has settled over the House of Flame. Rumors have escalated, whispered amongst servants and guards in the dimly lit halls. They find their way outside the walls and to the ears of the townspeople and even beyond theirs. But life carries on, the phoenix heir a mere story to speculate and theorize on over dinner by a humming fire. The only truth known is that ?she <<verb 'is'>> gone, presumed dead if the never again seen guard patrols are anything to go off of. Now, after years of silence, they finally speak. <a data-passage="0.08.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//'Send a phearn to every house. Let none go without hearing this call.'// "But why?" she questions aloud, the entire room now silent and gazing at her. "Do they believe the heir still lives? Or is there something else at play?" "Something else," the pessimistic handler smirks, "come now. We all know that they sent the heir to their death. They are only now wanting to make sure it has been done so they can move on." "But there was no funeral," his objection points out. "You say that as if one is needed. If I had a bone-winged child, I would erase proof of their existence as well. That is what they did, forgoing some of our own too. There were innocents with that caravan." The conversation swiftly shifts to a more mournful one, the handlers speaking of the ones whose lives were lost when the caravan was found attacked. No survivors. The Caller listens, but her mind is on something else, the sky, watching as the sun begins to depart. She knows not what the truth is, and frankly, she cares none. She sends a silent prayer to Sun and Moon to watch over her phearns, praying that they make their journey and return home. <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/chooseplace.png"> <table class="center"> <tr> <th><<if $vN is false>><a data-passage="Nour0.8"><img src="images/circle_grif.png" alt="Griffin Landscape" width="60%"/></a><<else>><img src="images/circle_grifgrey.png" alt="Griffin Landscape" width="60%"/><</if>></th> <th><<if $vO is false>><a data-passage="Ozara0.8"><img src="images/circle_peg.png" alt="Pegasus Landscape" width="60%"/></a><<else>><img src="images/circle_peggrey.png" alt="Pegasus Landscape" width="60%"/><</if>></th> <th><<if $vM is false>><a data-passage="Makaio0.8"><img src="images/circle_pho.png" alt="Phoenix Landscape" width="60%"/></a><<else>><img src="images/circle_phogrey.png" alt="Phoenix Landscape" width="60%"/><</if>></th> </tr> </table> <table class="center"> <tr> <th><<if $vR is false>><a data-passage="Ruben0.8"><img src="images/circle_drag.png" alt="Dragon Landscape" width="60%"/></a><<else>><img src="images/circle_draggrey.png" alt="Dragon Landscape" width="60%"/><</if>></th> <th><<if $vZ is false>><a data-passage="Zarik0.8"><img src="images/circle_bas.png" alt="Basilisk Landscape" width="60%"/></a><<else>><img src="images/circle_basgrey.png" alt="Basilisk Landscape" width="60%"/><</if>></th> </tr> </table> <a data-passage="0.9"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $vN to true>><</nobr>>\ One to fly to the land of far stretching plains and lone, bold mesas. A great land where agile winged beasts find themselves perched on steep flat tops, overseeing the setting and rising of the sun. <img src="images/divider.png"> A pair of golden eyes take in the situation around them: four soldiers, two coming from the rear and two from both sides. The only clear path is directly in front of them. Staying is foolish as they are currently being flanked, an exposed back being their greatest weakness. Two steps forward, a pivot, and then charge towards the first soldier before the others can make a move. One … two … three. Swivel. Charge. Every step roughly planned out, appearing like a hand sketching out an image's rough outline. And like that hand, with its long and quick strokes, the attack is much the same. Their bo staff an extension of their arm, making long sweeps while their feet dance to an intimate tune. Less calculation, and more instinctual. Less thinking and more of allowing the body to move whichever way it sees fit. One. Two. Three. End. They close their eyes as they breathe, long inhale through the nose and out through pursed lips. Repeat. "Nour!" a woman shouts, interrupting the breathing exercise as she approaches. She didn't seem the least bit bothered and, with a condoling glance at those who have yet to rise, turns her attention to them. "Father needs you." "For what reason? I'm not yet done with training." The woman points at the downed soldiers, "they perhaps would disagree. A letter came in. I have not read it, but apparently, it was sent by House Phoenix." Nour's eyes widen at their sister's words, passing her by as they race to the castle. <a data-passage="Nour0.8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
They care little for etiquette, much too consumed with the thought of why a letter would've been sent. For almost ten years House Phoenix has been quiet. After the first few troop implosions, they had removed themselves from politics. All that kept them safe was the proud and loyal griffins who refused to let those of weaker minds and marrow get close to dethroning them. The thought, even after all this time, still riles Nouritis up. Who would dare attack a family in mourning? No, an entire province? Ever since the disappearance of $name, all had shifted. Though, despite their recent misfortune, House Phoenix still carried as much weight as any other. Their land is spacious and their hold strong. The past few years have been kinder to them than others, allowing them a harmonious period. "Father?" Nouritis shouts, walking into the solar and spotting him at the table, "what news? Did the letter say?" "Calm yourself," their father laughs, taking their overwrought appearance in, "did you run here from the training grounds?" "Father!" "You will be heavily disappointed, Nouritis," he sighs, handing the letter over. Nour snatches it, though making sure not to rip it. Their eyes glance over the paper, their racing heart cowering before slowing. They collapse in the nearest seat. "Told you so," their father sings. "This is still good," Nour challenges, "there's still hope." Their father raises his hand, bringing an end to their muttering, "no, this," he taps the letter harshly, "is blasphemy. There should be no competition. You were promised to $name. We had arrangements." "Those arrangements ceased as soon as $name went missing. And shame on you for such thoughts. If you truly cared, then you would be as invested as they, and yet, this is the first time you have even dared say the phoenix name." <a data-passage="Nour0.8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Watch your tongue, Nouritis," their father calmly reminds, "we have spoken about this before. I will not send my son, the -" "Child." Their father pauses, and Nour shakes their head with a disparaging wave of their hand, "sorry, a force of habit, some of the soldiers still -" He rolls his eyes, "I care not. The point is that I refuse to send you out when you are the heir of this house. Your sister has abdicated, and your brother is far too young." "Look at it this way," Nour growls, "waiting for him will allow you and mother to rule longer." "Though it may shock you. Neither of us wish to. Your mother wishes to return to her family soon, and I simply wish to play the role of advisor. It's this little thing we like to call emeritus." Nour rolls their eyes, sliding the letter closer to their father, "then what shall we do with //this//." Their father sips at his tea, "for someone who has only known a soul for … what? Four or five years? You have grown an unhealthy obsession with ?her well-being. You were children, Nour, you have no allegiance." "You speak as if those //seven// years were petty encounters at best. I spent most, if not all, of my time, with $name." "What do you wish to do then, Nour?" "I wish to join the search." "Tell me, my child, is it because of the boon they offer or simply because you wish to be reacquainted with an old friend?" Nour raises a brow, not truly understanding what their father is attempting to get at. He continues, "fifteen years is a long time. And who knows what that poor child has been going through." He sips at his drink, "if they even still live." Nour pounds the table in rage, their father continuing to drink with indifference. "You will speak no such thing." "Dampen your emotions, it's unfitting for an heir." <a data-passage="Nour0.8.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Such a thing is impossible; both figures know that. It's one of the reasons why their father never spoke of $name. He knew that Nour would have scoured all of the lands for their betrothed, forgetting province and home. Nour rubs at their eye, commanding tears not yet shed to cease their development. "Father … I must. I have sat idle for too long. Allowing others to do what I should." He glances at his child, taking in their features as if it would be his last. Nour is far from the young lad he remembers. They had grown into a person suited to rule, capable of leading an army and even a nation. They had not only the people's love, but the troops respect. "You must promise me two things if I agree." Nour lunges forward, encompassing their father's hands with their own, "anything." "One, take a retinue with you, your finest and most trusted soldiers. Or atleast let Xeno choose. And two," he switches their hands so that it is now he who clings onto Nour's. "Do not blame yourself if the worse is to happen or has happened. Promise me that you understand." "I promise, father." Nour proclaims in great excitement, kissing their father's head before sprinting out of the room to prepare for such journey. Their father watches them go with a pensive smile, his heart dropping, "no, you don't." <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $vR to true>><</nobr>>\ One to fly to the land of frost and snow. Forests and mountains that stretch on endlessly. A silent land but one that harbors great life and danger when the time calls for it. Mighty beasts with steady and keen eyes rule the sky and land. <img src="images/divider.png"> The mead hall sounds grow closer as the sizeable crimson dragon lands in the clearing a few yards away. The harsh thumping of a lur intermixing with the guttural sounds of those chanting inside call to him. Each beat reminds him of what he has missed since the start of his hunt. Releasing the elk in his claws, he shakes his sore muscles and begins the transformation. The majority of his iridescent scales are shed and traded for rosy skin, and facial spikes turn to long maroon-colored hair. Heaving the buck onto his shoulders, he steps into the building and breathes in the mingling scents of mead, smoke, meat, and spice. The hall immediately breaks off from singing to cheer as he enters, many approaching to offer their greetings as he wanders farther in. "Ruben!" a man with hair blacker than any raven greets him, "the triumphant hunter returns. But with nothing more than a lone elk. How disheartening." "Watch it," Ruben laughs, "or I'll agree and feed you to the juveniles. Draconis knows you'll be a proper meal." "I'm a seamy little thing, far too tough to go down." With a harsh shove out the way, Ruben lays the elk on the floor, taking a step back and allowing the incoming cooks to grab and haul the carcass away. "The elk have yet to return. The only other I found was a doe and her calf," Ruben's brow rises, "and you know our rules." "Kill no doe and babe," his friend laughs, taking a seat and raising his mug. A new song begins that grabs the hall's attention, the men hitting the tables harshly whilst they chant, and the women intercept ever so often to screech in a high-pitched, musical tone. Ruben nods along as he grabs hold of a mug of his own and goes to the seat at the front, the seat of the leader. Wordlessly, he fiddles with the cup but makes no move to drink. Instead, he focuses on his core, warming himself enough to chase off any lingering chill. He snorts, tilting his head back and allowing the fumes of smoke to escape, dispersing as it mixes with the air. And with that, he relaxes. This is indeed what he needs after such a long day. <a data-passage="Ruben0.8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The mead hall doors open, and with a predatory grin, he watches as his sure-footed <<link 'd'uun'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Jawsīc'>>found in the Jawsīc language. (ɗuːn/ n.) aunt.<</dialog>><</link>> approaches him. Those who she passes bow their heads in respect before focusing back on their meals; others simply gaze away, reluctant to draw her attention and therefore her ire. "You return and choose to drink?" she questions when she gets to Ruben's side. "Good day to you too, d'uun. Nothing makes my day more fulfilling than being shrouded in your cheerfulness." "Enough. Do not toy with me, boy," she growls, "was your hunt successful?" "The elks have not yet fully returned despite the order of hungry stomachs. So, I did manage but pray to The Six that they guide the claws of the others." "I shall. And while I pray for them, I shall also bow my head for you and your journey." He snorts, finally taking a sip of his drink, "and what journey would that be?" With a sleight of hand, a rolled-up letter appears in her grasp that she passes on. Leisurely, Ruben takes it and skims over it with quick, disinterested eyes, pausing as he glances back at the woman who now wears a smug smile. "And this is for us?" "A messenger bird brought it in. Draxmil took it before eating the forsaken thing. What a pity," she chuckles, lovingly petting the jade amphiptere lounging on her shoulder. Ruben ignores her, rereading the letter but this time deliberately. He digests every word, reads every sentence twice, and once finished, he tosses it to the side in revulsion. <a data-passage="Ruben0.8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Because I know you will. Tell me why I should care for the contents of that letter?" Fire appears in her aging stone-grey eyes, and before she can speak, Ruben raises his hand, "and please, if you may, skip the part where you call me an idiotic boy with no sense." "Can you not see what this boon will grant us?" "You hate the phoenixes," he points out, swirling his drink around before gulping down every bit of it. He tosses the mug to the side and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "why help them?" "The boon, you silly, silly boy." "Rescue and then forced to marry some privileged brat? I see no boon. Only eternal suffering." "Because you choose not to see. You get control of House Phoenix, and you shall have a force great enough to rival that of the Chunae. Or do you forget who sits at your family's ancestral table?" Ruben leaps to his feet, causing his d'uun to stumble back in shock. He harshly grabs her arm and yanks her forward, ignoring the hissing of Draxmil. "Do not dare lecture me on what //I// lost. Lest I remind you that you were here getting fat on mead and brawn while my family bled." She swipes him away, fearing him none, "then you should not forget who rescued you when you also were bleeding out. All dragons have paid for what was lost. When was the last time any of us sipped on liquid honey and ate to our stomach's content?" Ruben turns away, pleased that the hall is more focused on themselves than the issues taking place a few feet away. Either that or they're doing an excellent job at feigning disinterest. He retakes his seat, holding his head and praying for a remedy, for his d'uun is the ailment. <a data-passage="Ruben0.8.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"And if I find a corpse?" "Then you drag that corpse to Erastus's feet and command him to send a legion of his finest with you. I care not for the heir's state. In fact, it would be better if ?she was dead. Just be the first and grab that power." "I have my doubts." "Do you want your ancestral home back or not?" she hisses in question. "I shall rescue the poor, defenseless flaming bird to put a cease to your chattering. I will do it my way, though." "I have already said that I do not care, Ruben. They are but a key to something we must unlock. Remember this and find ?her." "I shall leave in two days." "Look at the letter, Erastus is not specific in who the letter is addressing. This means that all the Houses received such a notice. Those closest to the phoenix province, and not as bullheaded as a certain dragon, will be the first to act. You must be swift." "Tell me, d'uun, what beast can ever hope to outrun a dragon?" he questions as he stands from his seat. "Ruben!" He chuckles, "when do you wish us to depart then?" "Now." He grunts, turning his back to her to not show his discontent. He makes for the exit, attempting to wrap his mind around how they will achieve their goals with the information he has received. He points at the black-haired man from earlier, "Toz, go and gather the others. Deshir, too. She will be needed. For tonight we hunt a different kind of prey." <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $vO to true>><</nobr>>\ A phearn to travel to a land of towering, steep cliffs and sparkling lagoons. Where serenity is key and beautiful creatures born of freedom and grace lounge and watch over nature. <img src="images/divider.png"> Ozara takes in the letter's contents one last time before returning it to her lingering mother. Morosely, she places her attention back on the unwavering line of refugees, held up due to her as they wait for her offering of food. She passes the box to the family of three with an apologetic smile, wavering when she notices the burns on the child. The woman behind her questions, "what do you think?" "I think you should give your condolences to the rulers, and we continue with our business as they continue with theirs." "Ozara," her mother chides. "Mother," Ozara sighs, mimicking her tone as she passes another box to the next in line, "I have more important things to worry about than recovering the body of some dead heir." "You will watch your tone. What if that was you?" "Then none would care," she huffs, "you would send that letter, and at most, two minor houses would appear. They would perhaps even tell you to begin working on another." "You speak ill of those who have lost much." <a data-passage="Ozara0.8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"No," she sighs, calling over another to take over her duties in the line. Grabbing her mother, she walks her to a secluded corner, leaning onto the wall as if carrying a heavy load. "Look out there, mother, and you will see a steady stream of never ending refugees. To say they are lucky to live would be an understatement. And ask any of them how it became so, and they will tell you the same." "Do not, Ozara." "A wall of flame came down upon them. And they watched as mighty birds with wings of fire swooped low, destroying their lives." "What is your point, child?" "My point is that you speak of them as if they are some benevolent, amicable rulers who have had the misfortune of getting their child stolen. They are not. They are tyrants and murderers." "What do you expect one to do in war?" "I expect one to hold honor and leave the villages of those innocent out of the fighting." Ozara stiffens. "But it is far easier to go after those who can only run and scream, is it not? To attack those whose blood will easily fill your wine glasses in the great hall. Do you think they sing mournful songs of those they have wrongly killed?" Her mother clings to her face, searching her daughter's eyes with a desolate gaze. "You wish to right all the wrongs so badly that you forget the most important thing. Forgiveness." Ozara moves away, huffing. She holds her tongue, refusing to say what is on her mind. "Doing this, getting that power, can help us." <a data-passage="Ozara0.8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Getting that power? You talk as if we are dying." "Look around you, my filly, we are. Your mother and I did not imagine this outcome, but it is far too late to conciliate it. You wish to see the phoenixes pay? Then go, find their child, and win this boon. And once our houses merge, give these refugees reparations. You can do so much more than what you are now." "Do not speak of mother as if she is in a state to make any decisions," Ozara growls, "too late for //you// to correct it." She calms herself, staring out as her insides rage on. She continues to feign listening but is now focused on watching the procession of refugees as they appreciatively receive fresh blankets, food, and clothing. Their homes burned, their lives taken, all that they knew ripped from their grasps. //To late to conciliate. You can do so much more.// Those are the words of someone who refuses to carry the burden of their own mistakes. Ozara closes her eyes as if that act alone will cause her mother to recede from her presence. "Mare Basine," an advisor calls, bowing a couple of times before straightening, "you are needed in the study." Ozara silently prays to the High Gods, thanking them for the distraction. <a data-passage="Ozara0.8.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Think about it, that's all I ask," she says to Ozara, prompting her with raised brows for her to answer. "Of course." With a nod, she leaves with the advisor. No longer wishing for company, Ozara aimlessly allows her feet to carry her away. She repeats the contents of the letter, analyzing each line. The intensity of the words never lessen, and her thoughts on it fail to waver. She didn't care to help, especially not for political means. Her mother could be right, may have a point, but Ozara refused to fully see it. Her time is better spent here, coming up with ways to help her people and even those who aren't. She scoops up a rock as she goes, relishing the absence of chatter, which is replaced by the sounds of nature. A distant creek whose presence she almost wishes to uncover, the clamoring of birds in the few trees that dot the path, and the relentless yet joyous wind as it rustles everything it can touch. She pauses and sits on a large stone, taking a deep breath in and focusing her mind. Justice is odd. She is learning that more and more. Sometimes, justice comes in the shape of soldiers and other times, a lone person. It seems that for her, though, justice is a journey. A journey she knows will pester her senses and mood. She will go. She will search for this heir, but not for the same reasons as her mother or others. No, she cares nothing for the boon. And perhaps somewhere along the way, she will hope and strive to make a difference for those that need her. She will try. <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $vZ to true>><</nobr>>\ One heads to the land fraught with mystery and danger. Of dismal swamps and eternal jungles. A land of ancient secrets and prowlers that slither across the ground and spit balls of poison and fire. <img src="images/divider.png"> The assembly hall was quiet that evening, a fact that did not sit well with Zarik. The sun has set, yes, but these steps are typically busy with eventides workers even then. Servants bustling back and forth to get messages delivered and quarters prepared for overnight guests. All the while hoping that the watchful eye of those higher up did not settle upon them. Or the guards and their constant shifting as they eye everyone uneasily for the sake of staying awake. At the moment, there is none but the occasional soldier that daydreams of their time being spent at a brothel or at least in a warm bed. It causes Zarik to ponder what he would be doing at such a time. Perhaps burying himself within books, studying the profuse nature of the arcane. He can also see himself sparring with the few soldiers whose ambitions for greatness matched his own. Those who neither seek out sleep nor welcome it as occasionally as others. But instead, he finds himself pushing open the doors to the Great Assembly room, taking in those gathered under the collective name of the Patriarchy. Once he makes it to the middle circle, he bows slightly before lowering himself into a kneeling position. The entire time his head remains bent and his eyes on the ground. "My respects. May ''She'' continue to enlighten and guide your eyes." "And may ''She'' continue to guide your hand." With the formalities finally done with, Zarik's head rises, and he takes in the five fathers before him. Each revered as a saint amongst the people in their own way. If they once deserved such high esteem, Zarik failed to see it now. He looks upon five men whose lust for power has quelled any rightfully given deference. "Khan Zarik. We require your attendance to fulfill a purpose. Travel to the northern land of Treces, to the Garami Mountains, and bring back the Phoenix Heir. Do so in haste." Zarik's eyes narrow, questions filtering through his mind that he dare not ask. <a data-passage="Zarik0.8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"We have already chosen those who you will be traveling with. But as tradition, you may choose no more than three of your own desire. We have prepared information for you to look over on your own time." A servant approaches and lays a folder made of fiber and thatch before him. "That is all." Zarik's bow deepens, his head barely touching the floor before he grabs the folder and leaves. To sit on a throne and lord yourself over others as if destiny chose you, he thinks to himself. Delusion has seeped into the actions of those once perhaps were worthy. For all he knows, they had been chosen by ''Her'', but even so, this rang true no longer. They have grown fat off of the spoils of power, but that only means they are slower and blind to the actions of snakes in tall grass. "Khan Zarik." He glances up to see his brother stepping from the shadows, his dark green and gold robe shimmering whenever the moonlight strikes it. "Niquth, you weren't in the assembly. I was curious." "Ah, yes. I had made myself scarce to not make it seem odd when I left at the same time as you. I know you have questions." Zarik rolls his eyes and shakes the folder in front of his brother's face, "what in the pits is this? This sounds like a task for someone from Mamba. Why is my division being sent?" "It is far more crucial, and the success cannot be trusted in the hands of just anyone. It was either you or Khan Soehadi, be honored that they chose you." Zarik's face remains impassive, gazing at his brother for the information he had promised. <a data-passage="Zarik0.8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Walk with me," he orders, and the two set off. Once an adequate distance away, Niquth reveals a letter, "we received this letter two suns ago." Curiosity piqued, Zarik grabs and examines it, snorting upon his finished read. "So you mean to tell me that the Phoenix has finally called for our aid in search for their beloved babe?" "Not just us, all houses," Niquth informs, tapping the letter, "which is why they wished to send a larger team than normal." "And what do they hope to get from this venture? A frightened phoenix to manipulate to their heart's content?" "They wish to get the boon." Zarik shakes his head, his barely concealed anger flaring as he studies the man before him, "for what? What tradition do they wish to abolish now? Patriarchs have given themselves to Jaquajeh. They can't marry." "You look for malfeasance when there is none," Niquth begins, ignoring the glare that his brother gives him, "and besides, when have you ever cared for tradition?" Zarik remains silent. He despises feeling like he has rested his trust in the hands of the wrong person, especially when that person has been beside him for so many years. Niquth continues, "they seek to marry the highest advisor off to the phoenix." He pauses to see if his brother had any knowledge of whom he spoke of, but upon being faced with a blank expression, he continues on. "The highest is already married with two wives, and they do not wish to force a third into their household. So, it comes down to another." <a data-passage="Zarik0.8.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Zarik's eyes widen as he goes through the advisors he knows and their rankings, "you?" "Indeed," Niquth nods and walks once more, "I am to be married off to the phoenix, and then the houses will join." "And tell me, why would they need such a thing to be?" Niquth doesn't answer, an action that Zarik takes note of. If secrecy wished to show its face, even between brothers, then so be it. His once impatient smile tempers itself into a benign nature, "so this retrieval, what must I be aware of? You said that all houses will be searching. What am I to do if another house beats me to my objective?" Niquth stops and turns to face his brother, his face grave as he regards him, "you have free rein. The Patriarchy would not state such a thing so brazenly but trust me when I say they want this heir. Do what you need to bring them back." "You seem determined. I didn't think you wished to be married off so easily." Niquth pushes him as a broad smile appears, "we all can't be like you, seeking adventure and answers to things not there. Perhaps I do wish to settle down." <a data-passage="Zarik0.8.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Yes, and I wish to become a Father," Zarik mutters. He watches as his brother leaves, walking back towards the Assembly as Zarik allows his feet to carry him elsewhere. He walks without purpose, thinking over the information gifted to him and what it will all mean. This heir can be in several situations, and who knows if they are even still alive. Even more, they find themselves confused as they are thrusted from one situation to the next. What good can they be for any? //Easier to manipulate//, he thinks with a scowl. Through all of this, he still can not release the feeling of there being something he does not know. Niquth, as of late, has begun to hide more from him. Doors once open, now locked, and silence has descended. Again, Zarik glances down at the letter in his hands. He has not heard much about this phoenix heir, only the common knowledge that the child was kidnapped and something dark has found its way onto phoenix territory. He didn't have time to dwell in the connivance of houses he cared little for. But perhaps that should change. He was to leave post-haste, but he needed to do something first. There was someone he needed to see. He isn't sure why. Perhaps it is how the breeze suddenly seems to shift or how purpose floods and fills his veins. Maybe it is simply because the calming sensation of a game he does so love to play is coming back to life. Whatever the reason, a significant shift takes over, a defiance of the natural way of life. And he will be at the helm. <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\<<set $vM to true>><</nobr>>\ The time to bid farewell to the temperate and sometimes even chilly weather approaches. Most people are ecstatic for such a change, no matter how little said change is. Their actions make such excitement clear. Gardeners revitalize the land, preparing the soil for the flowers that will soon come into blossom. Civilians set out candles and other decorations that the colder air usually disallows. Even certain parts of nature seem eager to do away with the last remnants of the fading season. The leaves and blossoms resprout on the antlers of the Harvest Deers and the Sunset Fish burrowing up from their short-lived hibernation. Though Makaio will one day look back and scoff at herself, she cannot say she feels the same. Sitting in the garden, quietly observing her favorite flowers, she is far too reluctant to utter the parting words she had initially come to deliver. She had waited most of the year to see them due to Celesow's short lifespan. An intrigue she believes trivial when there are far greater spectacles to occupy her attention. But here she is, admiring the stark shade contrast of the parchment white to that of the coral resting closer to the core. It seems as if the notorious lava flower has just taken on different colors to the unknowing eye. Perhaps some kind of survival technique for the changing seasons. But the truth, that no one other than fellow florists and gardeners typically care for, is much more specific. She chuckles to herself as if she shouldn't be as awestruck as she was. <a data-passage="Makaio0.8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Admiring the flowers once again?" Makaio glances at the entrance to see her lover approach, a broad yet tired smile on her face. "Aurora," she blushes, not knowing why. It feels like dozens of feathers tickle the sides of her stomach. Or perhaps the feeling can best be described as approaching the next take-off. Giddy but nervous, questioning how this flight will go. "I did not think you would be by today." "I gained free time. The monotony of the court seems to have finally subsided, for a time anyway." "And why is that?" She takes a seat, reaching forward to lazily touch the velvety petal of the nearest flower. "The Arch Flames actually sent out phearns today to all the houses." Checking to see if she had Makaio's attention, she continues, "asking for all the houses to join in the search for the missing phoenix heir." "Truly? They think ?she<<verb "'s" "'re">> still alive?" "I guess so. The attendants and others don't know much. Some are actually in an uproar, but it's a minority. Many think ?her dead, and others just took to spreading rumors from before. You know? About how all of this was planned." "That's horrible," Makaio snorts, the touch of humor in her voice not reaching her eyes. The entire thing was tragic, to say the least, and the whole territory was in mourning for a while. But as they do, rumors take hold, and all sense of mourning is dispelled for idle gossip and theories that make no logical sense. <a data-passage="Makaio0.8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"But enough of that. Why do you look so heartbroken?" She scoffs in reply, "I do not." Aurora gently touches her face, "I'm the one person you can't fool, beautiful." "Truly? Because sometimes I feel as if I even fool myself." Makaio shakes her head, ridding herself of that line of thought and nodding to the flower before her. "Did you know that these flowers only bloom during the winter?" "And what winter is that?" Aurora questions, trying to hide a yawn. Perhaps it is Makaio's current mood, grieving for something that feels like it doesn't need such a display. Or maybe it's something else. Something she refuses to think about, lest she wishes for problems that once didn't exist. She feigns a smile and chuckles, "yes, that is a good point. This one seemed even less exciting than the last." "That's because during the last we at least had bits of snow," Aurora sighs, her attention on the subject lessening. "Come. Let us not just sit here in this garden when I have time, and no one is here. We should do something while the opportunity is ours." She stands, turning to grab onto Makaio's hands and bringing her to her feet. "And what are you thinking of?" "Privacy," Aurora chuckles, "we hardly ever have alone time, not with you being courted by a certain noble." Makaio hums, "we should run away." Aurora's mouth opens and then closes, attempting to understand why Makaio has just said this. "Don't look at me like that. It was your idea." "Yes, I know. But there is a reason why you never agreed. You love your home and your family and the people." <a data-passage="Makaio0.8.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Can I not love you more?" Aurora glances away, a deep frown on her face that causes Makaio to turn into herself. "It's not that simple, Silver. Love is about compromise, and neither of us is willing to meet in the middle. I'd rather go, and your solution is for me to simply marry you and become a noble," she gestures to herself, and a look of doubt enters her eyes, "I am not made for that lifestyle. The political landscape here is too much for me, and I'm nothing more than a guard." Words of encouragement form on her lips, but that is the most they do form. Aurora is right, and Makaio prepares to bring the argument to a close, to let it sit and fester for another day. Perhaps that is all that it will take, another day. More time to think and contemplate. Aurora continues, "come, let's do something, please. And forget about problems neither of us can solve." Makaio hums, her heart racing for reasons unknown. She silently tells it to calm itself, that it has no reason to be doing this, but it never slows. A part of her wishes to cry, but she can't figure out why. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. It is these damned flowers and the melancholic mood, nothing more. Before either woman can say something more, the door to the nearby house opens, and a figure approaches, hissing for them to separate. "We have talked about this," she sighs, rubbing the headache that wishes to visit her away. "I should take my leave," Aurora murmurs, exchanging glances with Makaio but saying nothing more. With a weak heart, she watches as her lover leaves the garden. Her attention shifts, again placed on the woman who has interrupted them. "Kii -" "No. We have talked about this," she moves forward to grab Makaio's hands, "what will people say if they see you with her when the Cinder heir is actively courting you?" She supposes that a few modish gifts should cause her heart to rupture and for her to feel desired. Because that is indeed all she has ever wanted. Of course, such trenchant words will earn her mother's ire. Instead, she bites her tongue, her heart aching as she manages a small yet pitiful smile that causes her mother to sigh tiredly. <a data-passage="Makaio0.8.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I apologize, kii. I did not think about the consequences." "I understand," her mother nods, "it is early days. I believe it takes time to get over Fye's … affections." Makaio's smile instantly shifts as she releases a laugh, "that sounds like the kind way of putting his attempts, kii." "It does, doesn't it? The boy is odd. Not in a bad way, mind you. I would be remiss to speak so flippantly about a royal line. Just," her mother huffs, unable to think of the right words to frame her thoughts. With a gentle hand, Makaio nods. "It's fine, kii, I agree. And I will speak no word of this conversation in polite company." Her mother places a grateful kiss on her forehead, "you should pack for the trip to the house seat." And with that, she turns to leave. As her mother takes her leave, she bumps into the flower bush, disturbing the already weakened buds. Quietly, Makaio watches as a few of the petals fall. Each incapable of holding on for just a bit longer. They come to rest against the trodden path, the dirt shifting to lighter colored gravel, but the petals fail to get that far. She reaches for them at the last minute, halting her actions and pulling back. They were going to die in a matter of days anyway? What difference did it make that such an end comes quicker? Was her whole reason for coming out here not to bid them farewell? These thoughts pile on top of one another. Each statement holds truth and enough sense to cause her to nod and agree. Yet, she still finds herself mourning them. A tear for every single wilting white and pink petal. <a data-passage="TableChoice"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Rejuvenation. Purpose. An end to a beginning that even she can no longer remember. She stands atop a mountain staring out at the tranquil landscape with detached eyes. The sun begins to set, but for her, it feels as if it is just now rising. As if everything is just now starting to line up. A gust of wind races by, but she feels nothing. Neither the chill wind gracing her skin nor the frost that has moved past her bones and frozen her blood. Her beating heart thumps for the sole purpose of seeing a single goal come to fruition. "At long last, your judgment," she sighs in a jaded tone. Watching as flames long put out, rise on the horizon, and even after the many centuries, the screams of those she once held dear are crisp, "begins now." <a data-passage="Prologue"><img src="images/prologue.png" alt="Prologue" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<set $ozarahelp to false; $handhold to false; $shirt to false; $suntalk_curse to false; $suntalk_phoenix to false; $suntalk_parents to false; $suntalk_3 to 0; $stayininn = false>> <<unset $idcparents>> <</nobr>> The walk up to the temple was quiet, only disrupted by one of the others questioning Ozara about something that you weren't able to make out. It seems that they purposely speak at a volume to exclude you, that much you figured out from the numerous times they would glance your way. <<if $cloakgiven>>You bring your new cloak closer to your frame, craving the heat that it emanates.<<else>>You bring your new cloak closer to your frame, Rivenee having handed it to you a few minutes ago, reassuring you that she would keep an eye out for clothing as well.<</if>> Your mind is swarming with thoughts of Fennore and what you now knew about yourself, death. That was what awaited you. She hadn't said when, if there was even a known date, but you could already feel the mighty shadow encroaching. These thoughts stay with you until you reach the temple, a decently-sized wooden building whose roofs were busy collecting snow. A few trees rest around the area, some bearing snow and red fruit whose skin appears smooth. A few children dart around, throwing snow at one another and building up strange objects that wore faces and accessories. All of it gave an otherwise bleak scene some life, life that you never equated to snow and winter. Unlike you, the others don't stop to admire their surroundings, and by the time you're done with observation, they have already entered the temple, Auri holding the door open for you. You rush after them, once again joining Ozara and Rivenee as they approach a man in a long, plain navy robe. <a data-passage="2.01O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Lay Priest," Ozara nods, making some kind of hand movement where she touches the tip of her lip and then swoops her hand down to her side. He blinks, sincerely confused at her knowledge, before he shakes off his awe and bows. "May I help you with something? Anything?" "We seek the shaman of your village. We were told that he would be here." "Are you in need of healing?" "No," Auri snickers nodding to Rivenee, "we just heard that he's the sexiest stallion in these pastures, and my friend here wanted to take a ride." Ozara nudges Auri's wound, and he shrieks as he goes down, her gaze back on the priest, "ignore him. His hay maiden did a terrible job." The priest seems genuinely unaffected and motions for the four of you to follow him to a man who is fiddling with a few herbs. "Lenias," he addresses, "you have patients." The shaman turns with a scowl, and the priest chuckles, "have fun." He leaves you in the presence of the shaman, who naturally seeks out the wound on your two companions. His eyes linger on Ozara's bandage, and with a heavy sigh, he grabs a blade. <<if $timid >=50>>You stiffen but notice that she allows him to cut the dressing without care.<<else>>You watch, glancing over at Ozara for any signs of stiffness but she allows him to cut the dressing without care.<</if>> <<if $help>>\ "This looks sloppy. Who cauterized it?" "Who cauterizes a wound in a hurry and cares about if it's sloppy or not?" Auri grumbles. The shaman grumbles back in the same tone as Auri, "obviously not you." <<else>>\ "This looks like it was cauterized and then split back open," he gazes up at Ozara and raises a brow. I didn't know much. I had just learned what cauterizing meant a day ago. But just hearing the words and gazing back at the torn flesh of Ozara's shoulder allowed me to imagine the pain that must've caused. And she was somehow to muscle through that on the entire walk here. It was admirable. If not also stupid. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.01.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
As the three of them discuss their wounds and the shaman aids them, you wander around the temple. The interior was modest and, unlike the outside, lacks a friendly aura. The bland walls and solemn mood comes off as nothing but serious, a place to either pray or leave. A few benches were placed up against the wall, but most of the objects within were small mats. From observing those within, it was used to kneel upon. Those doing so all had their eyes closed, and their heads arched back. At the head of the room were two giant statues, one who you knew to be Sun and the other a woman who you've never seen before. She contrasts Sun's light with darkness, though not one of malicious intent, you note. It felt as if she was just softer, whereas Sun was more direct. You come to a stop in front of them, your eyes taking in Sun's stern face. [[This was his fault.->O2.01HisFault][$guilt -=5]] [[You hope he heard you.][$guilt +=5]]
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Innocence ++''</span> <</if>>\ What was the purpose of gods if they couldn't help out those they watched over? This being was known to have created the world, and yet, the people he also designed were left to suffer. It was a concept that you fail to understand and grasp. If you held such power, you would do things differently. All this pain would be nonexistent. And though selfish compared to your previous thoughts, //your// pain and need for answers would be absent. Maybe that was the thing though, you gaze up at his face once again. Perhaps the High Gods weren't selfish beings. It was impossible to know, and since you were in no way saying you weren't worried about you first and foremost, you're unable to give a non-bias opinion. <<include "2.01.2O">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Guilty ++''</span> <</if>>\ There were a few times that you've sent illogical prayers to Sun's ears, hoping that he had heard them. Most times, you don't even know what you're asking for. Hope? The truth? Understanding? Guidance? Perhaps all of them or none of them. They all sounded nice in theory, but you wonder what receiving them would do. What would change, and how would your life continue from there? Did a being as great as he even hear those like you? A random voice that had to be lost amongst an ocean of those who probably spoke louder and longer. <<include "2.01.2O">>
Behind you, someone says your name, and you choose to rejoin the group who are all bandaged up. "You can have your own opinions," Auri grunts, rolling his eyes and turning slightly away from the unimpressed appearing shaman, "but I still don't see the point in paying for your //healing//. Spiritual healing is a fraud." "You speak such bold words in a place that spirits seek out," he points out, and Auri shrugs as if the statement was something minuscule. "That itself is a problem as well. Spirits should be separated from the world. They stay where they belong on the elysian plane with all the other greater beings." You note the tone in which he speaks of the deities, a contemptuous manner that does wonders in informing you of his thoughts on spirits. "He's already paid, Auri," Ozara sighs, "drop it and move on." She sees you and jabs her thumb in your direction. "This is the last person we need you to see. The one who we were told is dying." He rolls his eyes, looking off as if he had better things to do. Perhaps so. "I can only sense spiritual sicknesses, just so you know." <a data-passage="2.01.3O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Here we go," Auri groans. Ozara shoots him a look, then one at Rivenee, who nods in understanding. The kelpie grabs his hand and pulls him towards the entrance, entertaining his rant as they go. Turning his back to you, the shaman fiddles with something on the table, "you're lucky I got everything I need here. Otherwise, you'll be paying me for the trip back to my hut." Ozara sighs tiredly but says nothing in response to his rant. When he turns back to you, he wipes something wet against your forehead that causes you to pull away, the action taking you by surprise as well as the feeling of the thick liquid against your skin. "What is that?" you ask in disgust, about to touch it when he slaps your hand away. "Hush." He wipes the same thing onto his forehead and then motions for you to sit. "Whatever happens. Let it. I can't get a read if you fight me." You're unsure what that means, and you feel a nervous air surround you. <<if $notouchy is false>>\ [[Seek out Ozara's hand.][$ozarahelp to true; $handhold to true; $ozara -=5]] <</if>>\ [[Take deep breaths.->O2.01DeepBreaths][$ozara +=3]] [[Ask Ozara to talk to you.][$ozarahelp to true; $ozara -=3]] [[Fiddle with your shirt.][$shirt to true; $ozara +=5]]
The actions were done absentmindedly. You needed something to keep you grounded through whatever the shaman was referring to, and her hand just happened to be the closest. You grasp it, realizing far too late that this was Ozara, the woman who didn't seem to like you much. You prepare for her to pull back her hand, but the action never comes, and instead, she squeezes your hand encouragingly. The action causes you to take a breath, and you relax, feeling yourself being plunged into a world of darkness. <<include "2.01.4O">>
You practice breathing, inhaling, and exhaling slowly to ground yourself to this place and moment in time. The actions relax you, and soon you feel yourself being plunged into a world of darkness. <<include "2.01.4O">>
"Ozara," you start to say, the words uttered underneath your breath, but she hears you, her eyes urging for you to continue, "can you talk with me about something … anything, as this happens?" She nods, looking over at the shaman, who gives her a nod of confirmation. "Close to our shores, we have a creature known as the Golden Sea Glider. The creature has a general shape of a manta ray but has six cute little stubby legs. They live out at sea, but they migrate from the oceans and inland to the freshwater lakes right before the cold season. They raise their young their before migrating back out once Hat'ein is complete. But, they are, playful creatures and we found out that they have great memory recently. Auri was …" You to take a breath as you listen to her tale, feeling yourself being plunged into a world of darkness. <<include "2.01.4O">>
You needed something physical to ground you, to cling to if whatever was about to happen became too much for you. And so, you decide on your shirt. Pinching it between your fingers, you focus on the coarse material, letting it sidetrack and relax you. The cloak was new, but you would need to shift your clothes out as well. Maybe the next village would have a proper tailor or wider variety. Your train of thought continues, and you soon feel yourself being plunged into a world of darkness. <<include "2.01.4O">>
You're falling, and along with that sensation, a shock of pain rocks your body. Your heart feels like it's thumping against your chest, screaming to be let out. You want to give it that freedom. No, you have to. You couldn't contain whatever was going on out of fear that it would tear you apart. This torment was going to destroy you. There was no doubt there. The deeper you fall, the more you see a sickness along the edges of your vision. The descent was too fast for you to get a good look at it, but it was there, and it was only growing thicker. The air was getting thinner, and you frantically rip at your throat. No, no more. You had to get out of here. This place would be the death of you, your entire life wasted because of this one moment. You didn't need to know about the future. <a data-passage="2.01.5O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $ozarahelp>>\ "Shh," a distant voice speaks softly, and a warmth joins them. A warmth that reassures you that no matter how fast or far you fall, something would be there to catch you. "Let go. It'll be alright." You're not sure about the truth in their words, especially when everything around you was screaming that those were lies. But, you choose to believe them. You yearn to do so. You let their softness take over you and embrace whatever comes next. <<if $handhold>>\ Your eyes flutter open on their own accord, and the first thing you do is gaze over at your hand that is still in Ozara's embrace. "We're done," the shaman affirms, and as if your touch was acidic, Ozara releases your hand and brings it back to her side. She gazes at the shaman, ignoring your presence altogether. <<else>>\ Your eyes flutter open on their own accord, and the first thing you do is gaze over at Ozara, your smile thankful but dampens when you see the apathetic look residing in her eyes. "We're done," the shaman affirms, and her attention shifts to the shaman, ignoring your presence altogether. <</if>>\ <<elseif $shirt>>\ A harsh sensation touches a part of your skin, and you recall your shirt. That thought once again reminds you that this wasn't real. That though death may soon greet you, it wouldn't at that exact moment. This was momentary, and you would soon leave this wicked site. "We're done," the shaman confirms, and your eyes flutter open, the temple once again coming into view. <<else>>\ You fall and sink until you find yourself wondering if there was ever light or if eternal darkness was all there was and would remain. The reminder that this wasn't real strums against your conscious but gripping that reality was near futile, not even wishing to be near enough to grasp. Getting out of this, freeing yourself from whatever this was, would be on you. You take a deep breath, not knowing if this would aid your descent or stave off what awaits you at the end - if there was an end. "We're done," the shaman confirms, and your eyes flutter open, the temple once again coming into view. <</if>>\ "You were told true," he yawns, the action irking you, "your health is declining rapidly. So, make your peace with whatever demons you still got floating about." [[“This is my life you're talking about.”][$heart +=3]] [[“That's it?”->O2.01ThatsIt][$heart -=3]]
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Heart ++''</span> <</if>>\ "This is my life you're talking about," you growl, "how about you show a bit more sympathy, even a tad bit." "You're right," he snaps, getting to his feet, "it's your life, not mine. And however you lived it must've not been all that it's cut out to be." <<include "2.01.6O">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Mind ++''</span> <</if>>\ "That's it," you question, an almost whimper-like tone seeping into your words. You were dying, and he treated it as nonchalantly as discussing what you wanted for dinner. He gets to his feet and shrugs, "I don't know your story. Come to think of it, I don't even know your name. So, no, I'm not about to behave as if I care." <<include "2.01.6O">>
"What is the sickness?" Ozara interjects, scratching her brow. "I wouldn't be able to say. This is natural, something in your blood from what I could gather. You could probably slow it down with some remedies, but like I said. This is natural, and only the gods can cure something like that." You peer over at Sun's statue, wondering if he was gazing at you with empathy or disdain. "If that's all, leave me be." Ozara opens her mouth to say something but shakes her head, thinking better of it and motioning for you to follow her outside. The winter air against your face holds a tinge of sadness, reminding you that you would never see another like it. You pause, your heart slowing as that thought permeates throughout you. You would … you would never see another Celesow. [[Tear up.->O2.01TearUp][$sad +=3]] [[Push it away.->O2.01PushAway][$numb +=3]] [[Scream.->O2.01Scream][$anger +=3]]
You squeeze your eyes shut, not knowing why you bother to fight the tears that would fall regardless of your wishes. So, that was it. There was nothing you could do. Your world was crumbling, and besides rubbing some ointment or swallowing a herbal remedy, you were defenseless. Always … always vulnerable. The tears rush down your face, some freezing against your cheeks. "I … I'm guessing it's bad news," Auri questions, summarizing what was said based on your face. <<include "2.01.7O">>
You pause and consider what you had been expecting, unable to actually figure that out. Half of you was hopeful, the other side doubtful. It seemed unlikely that Fennore would throw something as grievous as this out only for it to be a lie. Yes, it was always a chance, a remarkably high one, that the man would only confirm. "What's the news?" Auri questions, studying your face, but when he's unable to decipher your expression and thoughts, he turns his attention to Ozara. <<include "2.01.7O">>
The rage that empowers your scream takes away from your care about those that surround you. Let them look on. Look at you with concern or annoyance. You no longer cared. You were about to die. "It was bad then?" Auri questions cautiously as he approaches, avoiding your gaze. <<include "2.01.7O">>
"From what the shaman said, $name is going to die, and there's nothing that can be done. Remedies to slow it but nothing more." "When?" Auri questions, "maybe we can get ?her to healers." "That sounds like fighting the inevitable? Don't you think?" Rivenee sighs. "It sounds better than sitting here and counting down the days. Idle behavior saves no one." "We take ?her back to Phoenix territory," Ozara interjects, cutting Rivenee off from uttering her comeback to Auri. They continue speaking, but you drift off, replaying Ozara's words and planned actions. Phoenix territory, back to the arms of those who wished you dead. Who sent you away for who knows what. Again, this entire thing was for their own benefit. You are reminded that their presence was all tied to the boon they would receive. Nowhere in there did caring for your future and outcome come into play. [[“This is all your fault!”->O2.01YourFault][$anger +=2; $guilt -=3; $trio -=5]] [[“Does your cause matter that much?”][$sad +=2; $guilt +=3; $trio -=3]] [[Walk on.->O2.01WalkOn][$numb +=2]]
<<if $choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>The trio doesn't appreciate your words.<</notify>><</if>> <<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Innocence ++''</span> <</if>>\ "This is all your fault!" you scream at the three people standing before you. You run your hands <<if $length is "bald">>across the top of your head, grabbing onto the fabric that sits there to center you.<<else>>through your hair as you glare on at them.<</if>> "You should have never come. I had nothing to do with this world, and you threw me into it. I was fine. I was safe. And I was living. And then you three came and ruined it! You're the reason I'm dying!" Auri is the only one who shrinks away at your words, Rivenee's eyes, if possible, darken, and Ozara continues to stare at you like you hadn't said anything. You fume, your fists clenching as their silence fuels that ferocity. They should be yelling back or at least looking guilty for their actions. Your words held truth. This was their fault. "Better?" Ozara asks, cocking her head to the side, "now that you have names and faces to direct your anger at?" [[“Yea, I am.”->O2.01IAm][$ozara +=3]] [[Walk away.->O2.01WalkAway2][$ozara -=2]]
"Yea, yea, I am," you remark, attempting for the words to bite as much as hers did, but you were growing tired. The simple reply has you craving a bed. You yearn for a reprieve from this. "Whatever," you add in next, "can we just set up camp already?" Ozara walks past you, "there's an inn. We can get a room." That was even better, a bed to rest your head along with a bath. Yes. You don't bother to say anything and simply follow her to it. <a data-passage="2.02O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Without another word said, you walk away. You have no idea where you were walking, but you didn't wish to ask. After a while, you simply slow, saying nothing as they overtake you and begin to guide you. Your energy was depleted, an action that is becoming quite familiar. Your thoughts wander to a camp, noting that there was a scarcity of caves to seek cover in, but you also don't question their thoughts on your next sleeping arrangement. None of you say anything, not until you near what looks to be an inn. <a data-passage="2.02O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Guilt ++''</span> <</if>>\ "Does your cause truly matter that much? That all of this had to be done and my life put on the line just so you can get whatever you need?" Rivenee and Auri exchange glances, but Ozara stares at you, undaunted by your question and giving no sign of answering you. Finally she says, "we all need a good night's sleep." "Answer me. I deserve to know why you are doing this, at the very least. What does marrying me help you gain?" She continues to walk, and when you seek a response from the other two, they quickly make themselves scarce, briskly walking to catch up with Ozara. Your stare lowers to the ground, understanding that today, that question would not be resolved. You follow after them, pondering where they would set up camp when you notice a building approaching, an inn. <a data-passage="2.02O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You had nothing to say, and the understanding that your end was nearing made you tremendously tired. You begin to walk, tuning the others out, even tuning out where you were going. It felt like you lived inside your head nowadays while your body did its best to keep you going. When was the last time you ate? Did it matter? You silently try and figure out if you were tired and realize you weren't. The idea of eating was what made you grimace, and so you toss that thought away. You wanted to sleep. That was it. You stop and turn around to face the others, consequently causing Auri to run straight into you. "Sorry," he murmurs, blushing as he glances away. "Can we make camp?" Ozara shakes her head and nods to a building that is not far off from where you stand, "it's an inn. We can get a room." That was even better, a bed to rest your head along with a bath. Yes. You nod your contentment and walk towards it, once again shutting the others out. <a data-passage="2.02O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Everything seems to move forward from there. You faintly remember the walk to the inn from the temple but hardly anything else. None of it seemed to matter. You were resting on the bed, barely registering the fact that three other people were also in the room though they bothered you none. Auri and Rivenee were sharing a bed, and though you had believed Ozara would ask them to make room, she did not. Each time she came into your field of vision, you realized that she was becoming restless, and sleep was the last thing on her mind. You close your eyes, letting your exhausted body seek out the sleep it craved. <<if $tower >=50>>\ You shift, pressing your face closer into the pillow and then moving the blanket to be sheathed in its warmth. At first, nothing feels astray. Only when you inhale, do you realize that the smell is more than just a bit familiar. You open your eyes and find yourself facing a stone wall. The same stone wall that you have seen for so many years. It was all here. Your bed and the mural. The frosty air that wafts in from the lone window. Nothing seems out of place, but you knew this was wrong. You were not meant to be here. Or did something happen while you slept? "Worry not, for this is merely a dream," you turn towards the unexpected voice and look to see a man with golden skin lounging on your ottoman. His great frame seemed out of place on the furniture, but you keep such thoughts to yourself, far more interested in who this was and why he was here. <a data-passage="2.02.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ The first thing you manage to focus on is the rich earthy hues of the forest ground. A mix of green's and brown's with an occasional flower that found itself brave enough to breach the soil. Getting to your feet, you find that the immediate ground was only one part of a much more complex whole. The dark green bushes are home to a myriad of brightly toned flowers that rival the sun's palette. Some stretch their petals in all directions, capturing as much light as they can. While others keep their leaves close to them, shy in the face of another. You approach one just as a butterfly skirts by, landing on the flower's stamen. It stays there for a few more seconds before beating its wings and taking flight, blending in with the colors of the forest effortlessly. A lake sits to your left, small in size but busy hosting the multiple creatures that gravitate to its banks. A doe and its babe and two foxes who seem far more concerned with each other than the water. This world felt so familiar, and yet, it wasn't. "I can help you with that," you turn towards the unexpected voice and watch as a man with golden skin sweeps his hand across the environment. The environment itself doesn't change all that much. The tones, on the other hand, do. The greenery darkens or shifts into a crimson tint. The flowers, invigorated by this stranger, adopt colors of gold and purple, blues and pinks. The lake ripples, steam floating up, and as you look deeper, you can see the pockets of lava that creep along the floor. <a data-passage="2.02.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if $tower >=50>>\ "But how?" "Typically, I stay away from mortal dreams," the man admits, reaching out towards a sizeable snowflake. As soon as he makes contact with it, it melts and a light stream of smoke drifts upwards before disappearing. He sighs, tilting his head to the side in thought and causing his long scarlet hair to cascade past his shoulders. "But you are no normal mortal." It takes a few minutes of looking him over to finally get an inkling of who this stranger was. It wasn't until his deep eyes meet yours and you feel yourself warming under his gaze alone that it comes to you. You jump out of bed and move to bow, "<<link 'High God Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods, and twin brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged with the forming stories, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them.<</dialog>><</link>>." <<else>>\ For a hasty minute, you fear for the creatures who were far too close to the lakeside, surely believing they would be burned. But even they have shifted. The doe and her fawn take on a golden coat with shimmering maroon spots. The foxes now black with auburn undertones and their one tail giving way to two more. Tears dot your eyes, wishing to be spilled as you gaze on at the familiar landscape. "Home?" you question, the word foreign and unusual. The tower flickers in your mind, but it was as if this place had prepared for such a thing. It disappears before it even has time to settle, and the steam wraps itself around you, coaxing you to stay. "But how?" "I've watched you for far too long, Bird of the Sun," the man admits, dipping his toe into the water as if to test it. Pleased, he takes a seat by the bank and tilts his head towards the sky, his long scarlet hair cascading past his shoulders, sensitive to the buoyant wind. It takes a few minutes of looking him over to finally get an inkling of who this stranger was. It wasn't until his deep eyes meet yours and you feel yourself warming under his gaze alone that it comes to you. You move to bow, "<<link 'High God Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods, and twin brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged with the forming stories, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them.<</dialog>><</link>>." <</if>>\ "It is good to finally meet with you officially, $name $surname." [[“I am honored.”->O2.02Honored]] <<if $tower >=50>>\ [[“Why are we here?”->O2.02WhyHere]] [[“You said that I was dreaming?”->O2.02Dreaming]] <<else>>\ [[“Where are we?”->O2.02WhereWe]] [[“Am I dead?”->O2.02Dead]] <</if>>\
"I am honored to be in your presence," you tell him, once again bowing. You were unsure how you should react in the presence of a being such as him. This wasn't a Watcher or even a King or Queen. The figure in front of you was not only a spirit but a spirit that had seen to the creation of the ground that you walk on and fuels the air you breathe. It was because of him that your species even knew life. Despite this understanding, you had to ask, "but why am I here?" <<include "2.02.2O">>
You glance around at the room that was once yours - is yours - not yours. Your mind goes back and forth, fighting with itself on whether or not it wished to claim this place as yours or to accept the reality. "Why are we here?" "I wished to give you something you were comfortable with." "Then why are //you// here?" <<include "2.02.2O">>
You furrow your brow, remembering what Sun had spoken a few minutes ago, "you said that I was dreaming? You visited me in my dreams?" "Yes. Again, I typically shy away from this, but I found it most comfortable for both of us. Though," he huffs, "a much warmer climate would have been better." "I see … but that doesn't explain why you chose to do this." <<include "2.02.2O">>
You knew before you even asked the question, but you didn't wish to believe it. You had once thought you would never see it again. "Where are we?" "Don't ask questions you know the answer to," he sighs, "this was your favorite place in Neatié, was it not?" "Why are we here?" you question, an urgency pulling at your words. <<include "2.02.2O">>
You furrow your brow. You were back in the Phoenix territory, in Neatié, and you knew for sure that's not where you were when you rested your eyes. And those that surrounded you were nowhere in sight. There was only one thing that could all mean. "Am I dead?" His content smile vanishes, and he sighs, "no. Not yet, at least." "So it's true then? I am to die?" <<include "2.02.2O">>
"Let me explain, from the beginning. Long ago, before you were even a thought by parents not yet born, a vindictive woman who had nothing left to lose placed a curse upon your people." [[“A curse?”->O2.02Curse][$suntalk_curse = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]] [[“My people? The Phoenix?”->O2.02Phoenix][$suntalk_phoenix = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]] [[“Did my parents know?”->O2.02Parents][$suntalk_parents = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]
"A curse? One can be that strong? I also didn't think they involved the gods." "On most occasions, you would be correct. The majority of curses are simply for petty revenge or stretch no further than a small group of affected people or generation. But there are few who go farther. They give their entire essence away to enact what we refer to as a divine curse. These curses are the strongest of its kind and can only be undone when the conditions of said curse are met." He closes his eyes, scratching the hair along his chin in disgust, "they are a pain." He holds up his arm and you spot a pulsing thread wrapped around his wrist, "and are a constant reminder as they bind us to the curse." "That binds you?" "Yes. Whenever a divine curse is set and the deal struck, we get to add this to our list of accessories." He rolls his eyes and a gust of steam shoots up from the lake, "at least it's my favorite color." "Why go that far? Besides angering the gods, I fail to see what one accomplishes." "They accomplish what a regular curse may not. Find yourself a powerful witch or a loophole, and the curse can be reversed or shifted. A divine curse has no such things. The curse feeds off of the energy of the immortal. So the only way for you to stop it would be to destroy the immortal." "Which is impossible?" "Very much so," he chuckles. "What do they give up for something so strong?" "They give themselves to the immortal. Body, soul, and mind. Some regular curses call for blood and death, but the soul can be reincarnated or, at the very least, find itself in the elysian plane. For those who give themselves to us, upon death, their entire essence belongs to us. They will no longer exist in any form. A curse with a High God though," he shakes his head, "that sees the end of your entire line." You take a moment to think through the information you had just been told. For someone to go so far as to make this deal, they wished for you to suffer. No, your people to suffer. They — she had waited centuries for this moment. <<if $suntalk_3 is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.03O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if $suntalk_curse is false>>[[“A curse?”->O2.02Curse][$suntalk_curse = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_phoenix is false>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”->O2.02Phoenix][$suntalk_phoenix = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_parents is false>>[[“Did my parents know?”->O2.02Parents][$suntalk_parents = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"My people? The Phoenix? But what did we ever do to deserve a curse such as this? What wrongs did we cause that centuries have passed, and her vengeance remained strong?" "I cannot answer that. Only she can." "But why me then? If her gripe is with my people, then why didn't this fall on any other or all of us? Why a single child? A child!?" "Again, something I cannot tell you. I am only the overseer of your curse, the one who will make sure that the curse is fulfilled. All I know is that the curse was meant to befall the brightest phoenix. And seeing that you're standing before me, that's you." <<if $suntalk_3 is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.03O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if $suntalk_curse is false>>[[“A curse?”->O2.02Curse][$suntalk_curse = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_phoenix is false>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”->O2.02Phoenix][$suntalk_phoenix = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_parents is false>>[[“Did my parents know?”->O2.02Parents][$suntalk_parents = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"My parents … did they know of this curse?" "I cannot rightfully say. The curse, upon its creation, was known. If the fear of it lessened over the decades, I am unable to say." "So they got rid of me because of it? Because they knew what my existence would bring?" He sighs and offers a commiserative glance, "you search for answers to thoughts that have plagued your existence. But I cannot help you. Through all of this, my gaze has only been on you." <<if $suntalk_3 is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.03O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if $suntalk_curse is false>>[[“A curse?”->O2.02Curse][$suntalk_curse = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_phoenix is false>>[[“My people? The Phoenix?”->O2.02Phoenix][$suntalk_phoenix = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <<if $suntalk_parents is false>>[[“Did my parents know?”->O2.02Parents][$suntalk_parents = true; $suntalk_3 +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"Then tell me, is there a way to stop this? To save myself?" "Yes." <<if $tower >=50>>He stands and brings forth fire, commanding it to take to the sky as it begins to shift into a stone with peculiar symbols along it.<<else>>He stands, and the steam dances to the sky, warping into figures that you can barely make out. Lava joins it, and soon, you can make out what floats in front of you.<</if>> "Within the territory of the Great Stag, there is a stone of unforeseeable power that holds the ability to save your life." "Unforeseeable power?" "There have been others, and though they have been used, few know about the stone and what gives it its magical properties. Even I am in the dark about some things regarding it." He chuckles at that, seeming to be happy that there were still things he had yet to learn. "The popular theory is that it grants the wish of whoever holds it. And then it shatters and turns to dust." "If this stone is as powerful as you say, then why has no one found it yet? Why was it lost in the first place? I would expect the houses to all be fighting over it." "One did attempt to save it as a symbol for future generations to look upon … she was not successful. With every failed excursion it is forgotten a little more, and has been reduced to nothing but a tale. The decimation of the land has changed many things," he smirks, "you are lucky you have a patron on your side who knows where to look." "And where is that?" "Go to the ruined though not forgotten land that once held the mystic Stag and find the place where the sea and land have bonded in a union. There, you will find your doorway and after that, simply must search." He nods to the image of the stone that hovers above <<if $tower >=50>>your bed<<else>>the lake<</if>>, "you will know it due to its symbols. Once you have it, make your wish or say your truth." [[“Thank you.”->O2.03ThankYou]] [[“What if it fails?”->O2.03Fails]] [[“And that's it?”->O2.03ThatsIt]]
"Thank you for your help, High God Sun. It's deeply appreciated." "Do not thank me," he instructs, shaking his head, "not yet anyway. I have only given you information, little else. The chances of you finding the stone in time are quite small. You only have until mid Smoten." <<include "02.03.1O">>
"What if it fails? Are you sure this will work, or is this all guessing?" "It will work. The stone aiding you is the last thing you should focus your worry on." "Then what deserves that focus?" "Getting there. The chances of you finding the stone in time are quite small. You only have until mid Smoten." <<include "02.03.1O">>
Raising a doubtful brow, your eyes hover over to Sun, "and that's it? I find this stone, and everything is better?" He chuckles, "the journey there will not be easy, and once you are there, well, you shall see what awaits. Also, the chances of you finding it in time are quite small. You only have until mid Smoten." <<include "02.03.1O">>
"What?!" you shout, not knowing of this fact before. He nods sadly. "By then, your body will no longer be able to support you, and death will claim you." So, there was a chance, but you were now on a time limit. <<if $tower >=50>>\ "Can't I go back to the tower? Fennore said that it had kept me alive this long." "This is true, but no. I sensed the countdown as soon as you left. There is no going back. Only forward." <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Do you think I have a chance?" Sun raises a brow, saying nothing as he gets to his feet, and places his attention on a <<if $tower >=50>>large snowflake. As soon as it touches his finger, it vanishes.<<else>>butterfly, its wings made of fire. It lands on his finger before fluttering away.<</if>> "I can only make presumptions off of what I have seen." "And what have you seen?" <<if $tower >=50>>\ "I've seen a Phoenix who desperately wishes for understanding and answers. Perhaps you will get them, but who's to say you will understand?" Before you are able to question him any further, your surroundings shift, and the next time you blink, you are once again in bed. The room dark, and the only thing telling you that others were around being the near quiet snores of those in the adjacent bed. You sit up, only spotting two figures. Ozara, she was gone. <<else>>\ "I've seen a Phoenix that longs for both ?her_ wings and freedom. But has not yet learned what freedom is. Perhaps you will learn before this is over." Before you are able to question him any further, your surroundings shift, and the next time you blink, you are once again in bed. The room dark, and the only thing telling you that others were around being the near quiet snores of those in the adjacent bed. You sit up, only spotting two figures. Ozara, she was gone. <</if>>\ [[Stay in bed.->O2.04Bed][$stayininn = true]] [[Go find Ozara.->O2.04FindO]]
You decide to stay in bed, realizing that there could be a few reasons why Ozara was not there, one being that she had left to relieve herself. In the long run, it didn't feel like it mattered much, especially when your mind was swarming with questions about what Sun had told you. You release a yawn, turning over onto your back and gazing up at the ceiling of the room, unable to calm your mind enough to fall back asleep. The past few days seem to all merge into one, and though night came and gone, it all had no end. But it also felt like it had all happened days ago. You had only escaped the tower the previous night, yet here you rest, feeling as if you had been on the move for days on end. Auri lets out an exaggerated yawn from the bed near your own, smiling when he sees you before glancing around. "Where's Ozara?" he questions. "She wasn't here when I woke up." "She probably went for a walk," you hear Rivenee interject, "now shut up." Auri turns his back to you to face her, "we just ran into Fennore and her guards, and you think the Princess of House Pegasus should just be taking a walk at night?" You hear a thump but cannot tell who hit who or what exactly happened due to the darkness. "The last person we ever need to worry about handling themselves is Ozara." "You seem to forget that she's injured." "Go to sleep, Auri," Rivenee groans. [[“I can go find her.”]] [[“Did you two know Fennore?”]] [[“How long have you known each other?”]]
"If you want, I could go look for her." Rivenee sits up, and though you're not sure, you believe she shakes her head, "no need. You doing that might only make things worse." Auri sits up next, lighting the tip of his finger on fire, "how are you doing, $name? You've been through a lot these last few days. Seeing Fennore yesterday must've been the last apple to fall." <a data-passage="2.04.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
It had hardly anything to do with the topic at hand, but you needed to ask. "Did you two know Fennore?" Rivenee mumbles something, sighing for the sleep that she would not recover while Auri answers, "we knew of her, but not her personally. The closest I've ever gotten to her was yesterday. I don't think I've ever exchanged words." "I haven't either. She's the ambassador for House Stag or was anyway, so we didn't really speak with her much." "Was?" "Well, they're gone now. Can't be the ambassador of a house that doesn't exist." "I know that," you sigh, "I just assumed that she would join Pegasus." "I don't know all the intricate details," Auri states, sitting up and lighting the tip of his finger on fire, "but I know she and Ozara's mother, the pegasus one, don't get along. I didn't know she left court, though." Rivenee nods to agree with his statement. "But how are you doing, $name? You've been through a lot these last few days. Seeing Fennore yesterday must've been the last apple to fall." <a data-passage="2.04.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I've not asked this, but it seems like one of the first things that I should have," you start, turning over so that you faced both of them comfortably. Auri lights the tip of his finger on fire, earning a hiss from Rivenee as he sets his gaze on you. "How long have the three of you known each other? You seem close." "Too long," Rivenee groans. "She's not wrong," Auri chuckles, "in the beginning, it was Algae and Zai. I came in a month or so later." "You were kids?" "Yea. Seeing that all of our parents were herd leaders, we were always meant to meet Ozara. No one suspected we'd end up inseparable, though." Rivenee leans up with a playful smile, "I don't see our parents complaining about that, though. They've always been far more relieved." Auri nods in agreement, sighing as his eyes grow distant. A few minutes later, he glances back over at you, "but how are you doing $name? You've been through a lot these last few days. Seeing Fennore yesterday must've been the last apple to fall." <a data-passage="2.04.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"It was unexpected, to say the least. It seems like everything is happening all at once. First, you guys and then Fennore and then tonight, everything -" "What happened tonight?" Rivenee questions, and you chuckle. Like you had just been saying, everything was happening all at once. You hadn't even realized that the dream had just taken place, and you had yet to speak about it to the others. You would need to, seeing that your direction would have to be shifted to find this stone. "I'll tell you in detail when Ozara comes back, but Sun visited me in my dreams." "I've never really had a dream about a High God before," Auri admits, "I feel like it's blasphemy to try and envision them." You shake your head, "I didn't dream of him. He actually came to me." Rivenee stares at you, blinking and proving that she did not know what you mean. While Auri's head tilts back and he lets out a vociferous laugh, one that you were sure would awake those in neighboring rooms. "I know it sounds crazy." "Impossible," he responds, attempting to calm himself, "maybe a tad bit insane." "I'm serious," you sigh. He snorts, "sure you are." Rivenee looks to interject, but the door opens before she can, Ozara entering and freezing when she sees the three of you awake. "Where were you?" Auri questions, immediately moving out of bed but grunting due to his leg. "Calm down. I went for a run like always. Why are the three of you up?" "$name here claims to have been visited by High God Sun." You roll your eyes, biting your tongue as to not say something inappropriate. You were unsure if you would believe another if they had told the same to you or if you would have laughed it off, reminding them that a dream is just a dream. <a data-passage="2.05O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You rise, rubbing sleep from your eye as the rest of your curiosity is piqued by the one missing companion. She could have just vanished to relieve herself, but you don't recall her ever lying down, to begin with. Releasing a yawn, you rise and head to the door, glancing out and finding no one there. It occurs to you that she could probably be anywhere, and you walking around in no way meant that you would find her. It takes you a few more minutes to realize that she was just an excuse to leave the room. You would like some fresh air after everything you learned. You continue down the hall and down the stairs of the now quiet inn. The foyer was empty. Only a few candles were lit to guide any person up and about at this time. You bring the cloak that Rivenee had given you closer and head outside. The cold wind greets you immediately, and you welcome it. It calms you and quiets your heart. You breathe out, watching as the gust of wind takes to the air before taking a few steps away from the building. To go from a tower to staying freely in an inn, in a village. It felt odd like someone would soon wake you from this dream. In a way, perhaps that was what Fennore had attempted to do the other day. You so easily saw the sadness and then the disbelieving look that she wore. She had so quickly let you go, and the reason why still bothers you. [[She was angry, letting it guide her actions.]] [[She was hurting.]] [[She wanted you to see her point.]]
Though she was relieved to see you, it later turned to anger, and it is evident that she was not happy about you escaping, least of all with someone that she knew. Fennore loves to speak as if she had her emotions pulled taut to her side, but you knew that wasn't the case. She let her anger take control, and that led to her behaving irrationally. The next time, she would probably have a level head, and letting you walk away wouldn't be possible. <<include "2.04.2O">>
She was hurting. Your actions had hurt her, and the only thing she could think of doing was to let you go. The idea pained you more than you would have thought possible, especially since she was so sure that you would soon be regretting your decision. But you were beginning to regret it now. That glimpse of pain on her face before she turned away. Had you … had you broken her heart? She had done all of these things to make sure you were safe and cared for, and you had just thrown it to the side. Your stomach shifts in disgust for yourself, wrapping your arms around your body, knowing that the only reason you didn't cry was that the wind debarred it. <<include "2.04.2O">>
Though she had made it seem like she wasn't shocked by your actions, she wanted you to see her point. And that idea didn't sit well with you. She was so confident in her point being proven that she allowed you to go with no fight. If she was that sure of herself, what problems would you run into? What trauma would the world bestow upon you before you went running back to Fennore? Hoping that her arms were still open for you. <<include "2.04.2O">>
"<<if $o_nn is "Corpse">>Corpse?<<else>>$name?<</if>> What are you doing out here?" You glance towards the tree line to see Ozara approaching. "I needed some air. The last few days have been tiring." "I should apologize for my part in that then." "If what you say is true then it would have simply been someone else." "Yes, but perhaps they would have been able to handle this far better than I." She comes by your side and rests against the fence, her eyes closed, and head angled upwards. "How do you know Fennore?" "She is … was, the ambassador for House Stag. She was also my mother's close friend and confidant. Because of this, she practically became my diplomacy teacher. She taught me everything I know," Ozara trails off, sighing sadly, "she left without telling us anything. She just vanished." [[“What was she like?”->O2.04SheLike]] [[“So you were close?”->O2.04Close]] [[“She didn't seem a big fan of your mother.”][$ozara -=5]]
"What was she like, when you knew her I mean?" "Very resolute and stubborn. Intelligent, hard but only because she had expectations for people and the higher those expectations were the harder she was. But she had a good heart, always looking out for others and putting those who looked to her for guidance before herself." She gazes over at you and cocks her head to the side. "But you obviously know her well enough. Tell me, what is she to you?" [[“She's like a mother to me.”]] [[“She's my guardian.”]] [[“I … don't know.”->O2.04IDK]]
"So the two of you were close then?" She hums and nods, "she was like a <<link 'd'uun'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Jawsīc'>> found in the Jawsīc language. Means aunt.<</dialog>><</link>>. A stringent one but one nevertheless." She gazes over at you and cocks her head to the side. "But you obviously know her well enough. Tell me, what is she to you?" [[“She's like a mother to me.”]] [[“She's my guardian.”]] [[“I … don't know.”->O2.04IDK]]
"When she was talking the other day, it didn't seem like she liked your mother much." "I have two moms, remember? She never had an issue with my pegasus mother, but that changed after a while. She was close friends with my stag mother, though. When the house was decimated, it caused a host of problems. Fennore didn't like how things were going, not that I can blame her." She gazes over at you and cocks her head to the side. "But you obviously know her well enough. Tell me, what is she to you?" [[“She's like a mother to me.”]] [[“She's my guardian.”]] [[“I … don't know.”->O2.04IDK]]
"She's like a mother to me. She took me in and treated me like her own, and I'm grateful for that. Did she ever have kids?" "Not that I know of," she snickers, "she never really came off to me as a mother figure either. But she may have changed." She then frowns, glancing over and scrutinizing you but saying nothing more. <<include "02.04.3O">>
"She's my guardian. When I first got taken to the tower, she appointed herself to me." You pause, finding how easily you remember that day, probably due to how scared you were. "I don't think she needed to, but she did. She took it upon herself to bring me in and teach and help me." Ozara nods, "sounds like her." She then frowns, glancing over at you and scrutinizing you but saying nothing more. <<include "02.04.3O">>
"Well, she," you start, trying to find the right words, but you were unsure. That was a question that you hadn't thought about. "She's a …" You frown again. This was a question you believe you could have spent the rest of your life not trying to figure out. "You don't have to answer," Ozara tells you, "I was only wondering since you seem to have had her in your life for years." <<include "02.04.3O">>
"Can I ask you something?" She doesn't verbally agree, but she doesn't disagree either, and so you continue on, "do you hate me?" "No," she gets to her feet, stretching and then yawning, her eyes meet yours, and there is a sternness to them that you were not prepared to encounter, "but I don't like your house or what your family has done. And since I don't know you, nor do I have any intention of learning more about you, I suppose there's no great difference." <a data-passage="2.04.4O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $heart >=50>>\ She walks past you, your gaze on the ground as you think her words over, "then why marry me? If I manage to heal myself and survive, then that is what happens, right?" <<else>>\ She walks past you, and though you have no care to continue this conversation, you add in, "and yet, if I manage to heal myself and survive, you wish to marry me." <</if>>\ She pauses, "heal yourself? The shaman said nothing about that." You forgot that your meeting with Sun had just taken place and you have failed to tell the others about it all. You needed to tell them anyway since your direction should be changed accordingly. "Let's wake the others," you sigh, "I have more information. Just, promise you won't look at me like I'm crazy." She eyes you and shrugs before turning towards the inn. Silently, the two of you enter and head up to the room where both Auri and Rivenee sit awake, quieting when you enter. "And where did the two of you go?" Auri questions, moving to get up, but he lies back down with a grunt and a choleric mumble. "$name has something to tell us," she tells them, completely ignoring Auri's question, which doesn't manage to sidestep his attention. His frown deepens, but you notice that it's not anger in his eyes but anguish. <a data-passage="2.05O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Ozara takes a seat in a nearby chair, motioning for you to speak your part. "Sun came to me in a dream and told me that the reason I'm going to die is because of a curse that was placed on me centuries ago." <<if $stayininn>>\ Auri snorts, "it does not get better, no matter how many times you say it." Having already gone through this with him, you choose to continue on instead of defending yourself. <<else>>\ Auri snorts, "did you just say Sun came to you? The High God?" "Yes," you sigh, pausing as Auri tilts his head back and lets out a vociferous laugh. And to add to the dramatics, he rolls off the the bed, sitting up and sighing. "Okay. I'm done, you can continue." You open your mouth but he snickers again, waving away his interjection and biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stay quiet. <</if>>\ "He said there is only one way to undo this curse without dying, I -" You pause, furrowing your brow in thought as you once again look at those before you. Fennore's warnings about the greed and malice of others come to your mind, not to mention the fact that they have already put their mission of returning you ahead of your own life. Sun had said that this stone holds one wish, one use. What if they got their hands on it first? "It doesn't matter," Ozara barks at Auri, who throws his hands up. It would seem that they had engaged in conversation while you thought over the best course. Ozara looks to you, "continue." [[Tell them about the stone.][$stone = true; $trio +=5]] [[Leave the stone out of it.]]
<<if $choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>The group appreciates you telling them. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> "Sun told me that I needed to travel to the Great Stag territory and find a stone." "Stop," Auri growls, and this time Ozara doesn't stop him, "do you know what this stone looks like?" You nod. Using all of his energy, he pushes himself out of bed and begins searching the room. "Whatever," he shouts, coming to your side and offering you his hand. "Use my finger to draw the symbol in the air." The tip of his pointer finger becomes inflamed, and like he suggests, you guide it to make the familial symbol that Sun has shown you. "One still exists?" Ozara is the first to question, rising to get a better look. "And you're sure this is the symbol?" You nod again, genuinely hoping that they were as trustworthy as you expected. "What else did Sun say?" Rivenee encourages. "That when I find the stone, I have to use it, and only that can heal me. Also that I have until the middle of Smoten before the curse takes me completely." "How the hell are we supposed to get to the Great Stag territory before the middle of Smoten?" Auri blurts. "It's possible, even without flying," Rivenee points out, "the issue is if we have to search all of the territories. Then there's no way." You hadn't thought about that. Sun, at best, had offered you a riddle of where it might be, but you hadn't thought about how large the territory would be. Would he come back to you once you were closer? "I have a general idea of where it might be," Ozara interjects, twisting her coily hair around her finger before cautiously unwinding it and allowing it to bounce back, repeating this process. "The Temple of Séafra." <a data-passage="2.05.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You keep knowledge of the stone to yourself. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> "Sun told me that I needed to travel to the Great Stag territory." You inform them, still trying to fill in the rest of the details that would surely come up. "For what?" Rivenee questions, raising a curious brow, "you have no ties to that place." "He didn't exactly say why," you draw out, "just that when I get to the location that he showed me, he would come back and guide me onward." "Sounds like something a High God would say," Auri mumbles, waving his hand at you, "what else did he say?" "That was it. Besides having only until the end of Smoten before the curse takes me completely." "How the hell are we supposed to get to the Great Stag territory before the end of Smoten?" Auri blurts. "It's possible, even without flying," Rivenee points out, "the issue is having $name describe the place to us. If it's not an obvious place, then it'll be impossible." You hadn't thought about that. Sun, at best, had offered you a riddle of where the stone might be, but you hadn't thought about how large the territory would be. Would he come back to you once you were closer? "Can you describe it?" Ozara questions, and you nod, recalling the riddle and what you could make out from the image that he had conjured up during his explanation. She hums, idly twisting her coily hair around her finger before cautiously unwinding it and allowing it to bounce back, repeating this process. "Sounds like The Temple of Séafra." <a data-passage="2.05.1O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You say that as if I've been to Noorderward or what surrounds it." You scrunch your nose, and Auri nods in understanding, "what used to be the seat of the house, Noorderward. Don't ask me about the surrounding names, though, heck if I know." [[“Have you been Rivenee?”]] [[“You can guide us then, Ozara?”]]
"Have you ever been Rivenee?" you inquire, and she shakes her head. "I've had no reason, though I did want to visit before," she sighs and shrugs, "unfortunately, only Ozara knows her way around." "Are you up for a trip down memory lane?" Auri asks, and she bares her teeth. <<include "2.05.2O">>
"If you know these places, then that means you can guide us there, right? Before Smoten?" She glances at you but it feels as if she is looking through you, seeing a future that you can only wish to imagine. "Are you up for this, Zai?" Auri questions, resting his hand on her shoulder and causing her to jump. <<include "2.05.2O">>
"No." Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath in and lowers her head into her hand, mumbling something that you're unable to make out. "But I see no other way." She stands, "gather your things. We shouldn't wait for daybreak to head out." You all watch her go, Rivenee being the first to break the silence as she gathers her things into her pack. "This really couldn't come at a worse time, huh?" "I was thinking the same," Auri grumbles as he hobbles around, "you think this will break her?" Rivenee is about to answer when she frowns, her dark eyes connecting with yours, and a look of awareness seems to appear in her gaze. "Let's just get ready." And that was it. No other words were muttered, and you remain in the dark about whatever was plaguing the trio. <a data-passage="2.06O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Packing your bag was an easy enough task, seeing that you still didn't hold many trinkets. The pack itself was a newly acquired object and mainly held things that would benefit you and the others. Provisions, bandages, extra clothes, a blanket, and water skin. You sit on the ground and take a deep breath in, your mind once again roaming over the snowy fields and half-iced over lake, coming to rest at the gates of the fort. What was Fennore doing? Devising a plan to bring you back, or had she stopped caring? [[Your stomach twists at the thought.->O2.06StomachTwists]] [[You were fine with that … a bit.->O2.06FineWithThat]] [[You stopped thinking about it.->O2.06StoppedThinking]]
Your stomach twists at the thought of her sitting in her office, performing her usual duties with no wayward thoughts about you and your situation. The idea of the one person you knew cared for you no longer doing so made your stomach churn like a raging sea. And then what about Nyana'iva? <<if $dungeon>>The last time you had seen her, she was being led to the dungeon due to your tongue, paying for something that wasn't her fault.<<else>>The last time you had seen her, she had simply told you goodnight, expecting to see you the next day.<</if>> How was she taking all of this? What could she possibly be thinking about your predicament? [[You didn't care.->O2.06DidntCare]] [[You missed her.->O2.06MissedHer]] [[You desired her presence.->O2.06DesiredPresence]]
Though it didn't fill you with joy, bidding you dart through the woods on joyful feet while humming a captivating tune. No, you didn't feel that, but you also didn't feel as devastated as you believed you should. <<if $positive >=50>>You kept your thoughts positive more often than not, and your thoughts were telling you that you could do this. You could brave this world, and when it did decide to bare its teeth, you would show it your talons.<<else>>You were not the most positive person. Even now, you failed to think of some optimistic thought to see you through. But you knew what you wanted and what you looked for. If it didn't work, then well, you had no one but yourself to blame. And if it did, you had no one but yourself to congratulate.<</if>> You believed that it was time to stop thinking about what Fennore wished of you and to start going after what you wanted for yourself. And then what about Nyana'iva? <<if $dungeon>>The last time you had seen her, she was being led to the dungeon due to your tongue, paying for something that wasn't her fault.<<else>>The last time you had seen her, she had simply told you goodnight, expecting to see you the next day.<</if>> How was she taking all of this? What could she possibly be thinking about your predicament? [[You didn't care.->O2.06DidntCare]] [[You missed her.->O2.06MissedHer]] [[You desired her presence.->O2.06DesiredPresence]]
Every free moment of your time seems to be taken up by these thoughts, and though you understood why that was, you didn't like the idea of going round in circles with yourself on the morality of your decisions and mindset. You choose to bury that thought for now. No doubt it would crop up at some infelicitous moment, but for now, you would rid yourself of it. And then what about Nyana'iva? <<if $dungeon>>The last time you had seen her, she was being led to the dungeon due to your tongue, paying for something that wasn't her fault.<<else>>The last time you had seen her, she had simply told you goodnight, expecting to see you the next day.<</if>> How was she taking all of this? What could she possibly be thinking about your predicament? [[You didn't care.->O2.06DidntCare]] [[You missed her.->O2.06MissedHer]] [[You desired her presence.->O2.06DesiredPresence]]
<<if $nyana is "crush">>\ It was odd to think that you hadn't thought much of Nyana'iva since this had all started, or perhaps not //that// weird. You did have feelings for the woman, and during your stay in the tower, you spent a few moments daydreaming of her. Perhaps that's why this was odd. She had taken up none of your attention since this ordeal, even during the less tragic and parlous moments. You had no reason for that and kept it at that. <<elseif $nyana is "friend">>\ It was odd to think that you hadn't thought much of Nyana'iva since this had all started, or perhaps not //that// weird. You did care for the woman, and your stay in the tower had been much more pleasurable due to her presence and attitude. Perhaps that's why this was odd, she had been as important to you as Fennore, and yet, only one of the two have constantly been considered. <<else>>\ You didn't care much for her while you were in the tower. It was only typical to not care much for the woman outside of it. It wasn't that you wished harm for her, but that was where your care stopped. The two of you were never close, and you doubted that such a truth was to ever change. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $nyana is "crush">>\ You missed her dearly and hoped that wherever she was and whatever she was going through, it was not horrible. You would hate to imagine that she was in distress because of you. She didn't deserve it. Out of everyone, she was innocent and undeserving. Though it felt improper to ponder, you hope that your face still fills her thoughts. That she had not forgotten you or what the two of you felt for one another. You hope, but it would surely be understandable if such feelings have shifted since then. Or, at least you think it's understandable. Your experience with feelings and crushes was child-like. <<elseif $nyana is "friend">>\ You missed her and hoped that wherever she was and whatever she was going through, it was not horrible. You would hate to imagine that she was in distress because of you. She didn't deserve it. Out of everyone, she was innocent and undeserving. What would Fennore tell her? The truth, probably. But you weren't sure that was better than a lie. How would you feel if the one person you counted as a friend disappeared and refused to return? <<else>>\ It was almost strange to think that you missed the woman who almost felt like your shadow all these years. Maybe it was the idea of something familiar being so close, regardless of your relationship with it. The trio had their secrets, and even if they wouldn't deem it as such, it was information that you were missing out on. That didn't even factor in the new environment and circumstance in your life. Yes, someone familiar, who knew you and who you knew. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $nyana is "crush">>\ You missed her so and found yourself wishing that she was right beside you. You have long since wanted to leave the tower with her at your side. For the two of you to venture the world and see sights that have been absent from your mind for so long. The thought was always fleeting and comical, but one could say the same about being rescued after so long. You hope that your face still fills her thoughts. That she had not forgotten you or what the two of you felt for one another. You hope, but it would surely be understandable if such feelings have shifted since then. Or, at least you think it's understandable. Your experience with feelings and crushes was child-like. <<elseif $nyana is "friend">>\ You missed her and hoped that wherever she was and whatever she was going through, it was not horrible. You would much rather her be beside you, not to experience the same danger as you, but to at least ease the strain on your heart. Perhaps that was a selfish thought, as only one heart would feel eased at the shift in the situation. But, part of you cares none. You wished for a friendly face. <<else>>\ It was almost strange to think that you missed the woman who almost felt like your shadow all these years. Maybe it was the idea of something familiar being so close, regardless of your relationship with it. The trio had their secrets, and even if they wouldn't deem it as such, it was information that you were missing out on. That didn't even factor in the new environment and circumstance in your life. Yes, someone familiar, who knew you and who you knew. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name, are you ready?" Auri wonders, appearing in your field of vision. Ozara was still absent while Rivenee stands idle by the door, appearing bored as she leans on the door frame. "Yea," you shake your head of all thoughts, burying them with every other idea that you dare not have. Funny, how when you were in the tower, you hardly had much to fill your mind with. There were Fennore's lessons and then your own hobbies, but that was perhaps the most your mind would delve into deep conversations. And those never lasted more than a few days, replaced by another irrelevant concern soon after. And now? It was a miracle when your brain didn't have copious thoughts to think over. Going from one to another until yet another thing happens to add to the list. In truth, it was exhausting. You were beginning to want to do nothing but sleep, but as Sun has proven, your dreams weren't even free of stress. <a data-passage="2.08O"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Following the duo out of the room, you leave the inn behind and head to the edge of town, where you finally see Ozara. She fiddles with the bandage on her arm, grimacing at it before peering at your approaching group. "Where did you head off too?" "The shaman. We needed more medicine and herbs." "We had enough," Auri grumbles, grabbing his pack as if to show her this truth. "With you in our group, enough is never enough. Are we all ready?" Rivenee chuckles, fussing over her hair, "to what? <<if $stone>>Find some ancient stone that we all thought became part of folklore and hope to free $name from a petty but mighty curse?<<else>>Free $name from a petty but mighty curse?<</if>> Can anyone be ready for that?" "Probably not," Auri yawns, "but I guess we're about to see." You see little else that you can do. According to Sun, your salvation rests in an area devastated by war and has since been abandoned. Ironic, was it not? That the only thing that could save your dying body was in a place such as this? You peer over at the people you would find yourself traveling with, and though there were probably worst people, you're unsure about your trust in them. Only time would tell it would seem. And so you make that first step into the unknown. [[Story End->DemoEnd]]
<<nobr>> <<set $dungeon = false; $bruises = false; $dressed = false; $behinddoor = false; $closet = false; $underneathbed = false; $drugged = false; $attack = false; $checkup = false; $phearn_rescue = false; $phearn_sick = false>> <<audio "opening3" fadeout>> <<playlist "dark" loop play>> <</nobr>> <img src="images/pickroute.png"> <table class="center"> <tr> <th><a data-passage="PStartR"><img src="images/select_ruben.jpg" alt="Ruben Draco Choice" width="80%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="PStartN"><img src="images/select_nour.jpg" alt="Nouritis Gryps Choice" width="80%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="PStartO"><img src="images/select_ozara.jpg" alt="Ozara Kallippos Choice" width="80%"/></a></th> </tr> </table> <table class="center"> <tr> <th><a data-passage="PStartZ"><img src="images/select_zarik.jpg" alt="Zarik Al Asherath Choice" width="50%"></a></th> <th><a data-passage="PStartM"><img src="images/select_makaio.jpg" alt="Makaio Sisou Choice" width="50%"></a></th> </tr> </table>
<<nobr>>\<<set $route_nour = true; $nourgryps = true; $notouchy to true; $nosa to true; $force +=5>><</nobr>>\ You wish they talk, these four walls that you find yourself surrounded by. You wish that when the blustery wind surges by that they will sing, or when you mumble off a prayer that they will respond in kind. Instead, they stare back at you with what feels like an almost stilted blankness. There are walls outside this room that hold a much livelier spirit. Even your room, enclosed by nothing but stone, at least has the decency to sparkle and stand out from their neighbor. These walls hold no hope and no spirit. They are cold shadows built on a lorn idea of isolation. The sole, small window existing in the room cannot contribute life to the bleak surroundings. It's built too high up the wall<<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>, even for someone of your stature.<<else>>, giving you brief views of the unchanging sky.<</if>> You yearn to get a glimpse of the unfettered world that exists on the other side. When was the last time you've seen a vivid, blossoming flower? Or even grass? The sun itself is a rare sight. Always hidden away by strict roaming clouds or completely nonexistent due to the constant blizzards that seize the heavens. Your lips are desiccant, cracking in some places due to a lack of water that a quick swipe of your tongue fails to fix. You have forgotten what warmth is, a permanent chill coating your skin and claiming dominion over your bones. But underneath that, it feels like something claws at your skin, screeching for freedom but never actually grasping it. A beast whose cage is open but refuses to leave for it simply loves to howl. You wish to sleep, but that and a body that refuses to lay still due to the emptiness within keeps that desire from reaching fruition. You continuously fall deeper into a state of delirium, randomly surfacing for air before being taken back under. Whatever rogue, alchemical magic is rushing through your system is the cause of this. [[After trying to fight it off, you have no more energy.][$spirit +=20]] [[You are used to this, therefore you accept it.][$spirit -=20]]
<<nobr>>\<<set $route_ozara = true; $ozarakallippos = true; $charisma +=5>><</nobr>>\ The servants take a step back, and you take to admiring the now completed mural that rests in your room. It is an explosion of color depicting some faraway scene that your eyes will probably never grace. Mostly made up of foliage, but there are areas where the eyes of an inquisitive doe will appear or the still-beating wings of a butterfly making its rounds around a bush. The sky is the calmest part of the piece, depicting hushed and ethereal tones that cause the sun's presence to emerge even more against the one-dimensional art. While you are busy in your quiet lauding of the piece, the servants take their leave. They carry with them their soft bickering and the vague sense of companionship that still affect you even when not directed at you. The oppressive burden that you have come to associate with loneliness lowers itself onto your shoulders, and just like that, the mural loses its edge. So easily can you now make out the splotches and careless errors that are overlooked — the way the aging stone gives the entirety of the art a cracked and declining fresco impression. You close your eyes in an attempt to once again bring back the splendor of what once was, but more of its beauty trickles away with each hollow effort. You <<if $length is "bald">>run your hand over your smoothed head<<elseif $type is "dreads" or $type is "braids">>fiddle with one of your $type<<else>>fiddle with a strand of your $hair hair<</if>>, lost in thought concerning the continual cycle that you have found yourself stuck in. Moments like this, you consider your role and future in this world. Who you were and your purpose. Were you destined to stay in this tower, watching each day pass with no proper understanding of time nor season? In this bleak wintry hellscape, every day feels like the last. The only difference you truly see is that of the blizzards versus the far calmer snowfall. It has not changed. For how long you've been here, you have forgotten what grass looks like or how majestically the flowers and trees shift into their autumnal tones. Neither do you remember the feeling of rain against your skin or how the air grows heavy and thick, causing breathing to become strangled and your skin to feel sticky. There is a chance that you may never see or experience any of that again. These walls that enclose you keep you safe but they do little to protect you from your own derangement. [[It was for your own well-being though.][$tower +=20]] [[You just wanted to experience the world, even for a moment.][$tower -=20]]
<<nobr>>\<<set $route_ruben = true; $rubendraco = true; $stealth +=5>><</nobr>>\ You wish they talk, these four walls that you find yourself surrounded by. You wish that when the blustery wind surges by that they will sing, or when you mumble off a prayer that they'd respond in kind. Instead, they stare back at you with what feels like an almost stilted blankness. There are walls outside this room that hold a much livelier spirit. Even your room, enclosed by nothing but stone, at least has the decency to sparkle and stand out from their neighbor. These walls hold no hope and no spirit. They are cold shadows built on a lorn idea of isolation. Your lips are desiccant, cracking in some places due to a lack of water that a quick swipe of your tongue can't fix. You have forgotten what warmth is, a permanent chill coating your bare skin and claiming dominion over your bones. You wish to sleep, but a simple shift causes your battered body to moan, begging for stillness, yearning for a peace that it knows will never come. At most, it seeks out the nearest corner and attempts to disappear within its dank depths. To be forgotten and absorbed by the muck along the floor. In hindsight, this is the intended effect. This small and loathsome cell isn't meant to entertain you or give you feelings of safety and warmheartedness. It is to punish and degrade, humiliate, and teach a lesson that you seem to have yet to learn. [[You had an … altercation with a guard.][$vigor +=20]] [[You had done nothing.][$vigor -=20]]
<<nobr>><<set $route_zarik to true; $zarikalasherath to true; $nosa to true; $force +=5>><</nobr>> It is the sound of your own heartbeat that caused such conflicting thoughts to seize your mind and disconcert your body. There are no other sounds, barring that of your own deep and embittered breathing. This room and all of that within exists to make you appear like a fool, a witless and incapable one whose sole purpose is to fail. The knowledge of that alone is enough to tear at your heart, to make you wish for an end to a show witnessed only by the dust and chill that coats the flooring and walls. You stand in what many call the training room, but you appropriately titled it the torture room a long time ago. There is not a single area of this room that doesn't hold some accumulation of your blood, whether it be from an accidental or purposeful wound. These walls have watched you suffer and perhaps question themselves if there has ever been any growth, or has it been one long descent. That thought spurs you to do something about your current dilemma, but your body yearns for you to abandon any idea. Below you are ice coals. Similar to their hotter variation, these are meant to hold an unbelievable amount of chill that can cut your foot if pressed against for too long. While above you is a bar that your wrists are chained to. <<if $height is "average">>The bar is high enough to where you have to stand on your toes to reach it, a feat that always finds one of two things happening. You slipping and needing to start all over or successfully reaching the metallic pole, but your feet are left to suffer. <<elseif $height is "short" or $height is "very short">>The bar is much too high for you and those who govern you have no intention of lowering it just to accommodate your height. And so, for the sake of your feet, you are forced to jump. Sometimes you're lucky and manage to grab onto the bar, pulling yourself away from the chilled stones that maim your soles. Other times, you are not as lucky, and only the chains keep you from falling to your knees. <<else>>The bar is around the same height as you. Raising it won't do much, but those who govern you have proved that such a small thing will not deter the lesson needing to be learned here. They grease the bar, making it to where when you do grab it, your hold is never maintained for long. Any loosening grip will see you crashing back down onto the coals and gritting your teeth as pain shoots through both your feet and arms.<</if>> <a data-passage="Z0.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>><<set $route_makaio to true; $makaiosisou to true; $nosa to true; $charisma +=5>><</nobr>> Winter is never kind. Even when the wind grows less tumultuous and the fresh, powdery snow lazily drifts down, it is still plotting. A season of fourberie that delivers a chill so raw that you're never able to spot the clues until it is too late. Living in it for more than a decade has not yet gifted you with the patience, nor the grit to see through its lies. At best, you know that the ever-present snow is filled with it, but little else. You recall a time where you actively pursued the truth, met by only a stinging reprimand. The more you sought, the sharper the bite. You and the blizzards of the region were well acquainted, and you have seen firsthand the kind of lashings it deals out. At times you have come back fine, other times with bones so cold that it was a shock that you were still able to move. An irritated throat where even swallowing caused insurmountable amounts of pain. Fingertips shifting in color and a paleness that should belong to no living being colored your skin. Desiccant lips cracked in some places and a permanent chill that no fire could chase away. Most times the storm gives a simple pat on the head and a push back towards your sturdy and mocking cage. But there were also those times where it threatened limbs and stole breaths. A low hum originates from the back of your mind and obediently, you lose the train of thought. Instead, you focus on your current actions. [[Charting the few stars you can see.][$stars +=20]] [[Practicing your hand stand.][$acrobat +=20]] [[Studying the winter blossoms.][$nature +=20]] [[Creating this new composition.][$music +=20]] [[Finishing up the sketch.][$art +=20]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Ardor ++</span><</if>> You usually expend most of your energy on foolishly trying to overcome it. Only to be left with nothing but a sliver of energy that keeps you conscious and aware of the coming's and going's of the servants that check on you. Despite this not being the first, nor you knowing it to be the last time you will be in this cell, you continuously attempt to fight circumstance. As if your weakened soul is a match for Fate itself and that all it takes is a positive and arduous attitude to change things in your favor. It will change nothing. You will still be carted off to that woman's testing room and put under so much pain that you begin to question your sanity. No, it is much better when you don't fight. When you allow it. <<include "NourContRoute">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Apathy ++''</span><</if>> This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, and so you have learned to stop fighting. What is the point? Your fighting only means that you will be given a punishment on top of everything else. You will still be carted off to the woman's testing room and put under so much pain that you begin to question your sanity. No, it is much better when you don't fight. When you allow it. <<include "NourContRoute">>
It is the same, all the time. Not frequent, but also not an event that you can ever see coming. There are times when you are sleeping, and guards will surge into your room, snagging you from your bed and marching you down to the witch's testing room. And then other times where, mid-swallow, they come to escort you. Each time, while your heart grows dark, your brain shivers in pleasure. To crave something yet detest it all at the same time. Your mind feels as if its shrouded in fog. Some things like basic knowledge and understanding are always clear and not far from reach. But then there are other things … memories that are forever devoured by the fog. And the abiding effects of magic lulling you into some sort of serene ardor. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Combative ++''</span><</if>> Sometimes those lessons consist of throwing you into a cell and reminding you that everything around you is a well-designed ruse that can be stripped from you just as fast as given. And then there are times where you are thrown in here because of your actions. Your captors, after fifteen years, draw a blank regarding your still rebellious habits. Questioning how your spirit hasn’t been broken, they do everything they can to break it. Your bruised body is proof of that, though you realize that it is now less about breaking your spirit and more of you being a suitable punching dummy. Catching the ire of the guards is never wise. When you did, the price, no matter if you engage or not, is this. Chains confining your ankles and wrists to keep you standing for hours on end. At times, the guards come in and allow you rest, while other times, they simply smirk from the barred gate, malice, and appeasement in their eyes. <<if $nosa is false>>\ //This next choice determines if your character has been sexually abused. Please consider if you wish to go this route.// [[And though not as much ... they did appalling things. (This will activate the variable.)|0SA]] [[And then once again you are left alone. (This will NOT activate the variable.)|AloneRuben1][$nosa to true]] <<else>>\ At this moment, you feel as if your standing interval has gone on for at least five hours, but how were you to know? You lost feeling a long time ago, your muscles past mere fatigue, and your body tired of screaming at you to sit when you obviously would not obey. You believe that you have collapsed at least once, but you are unsure. The chains allow little movement, but at most, collapsing is just inclining forward. You think you smirk, you at least do so in your head. All of this due to you mouthing off to a guard. A guard that deserved it no less. His hatred for you was rabid, and like this entire place, felt misplaced. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Compliant ++''</span><</if>> Sometimes those lessons consist of throwing you into a cell and reminding you that everything around you is a well-designed ruse that can be stripped from you just as fast as given. You have done nothing to deserve this, but you never really did. They come to you at odd times, and with a snap of their fingers, you are seized and thrown in here. They care little for your pleads or attempts at gaining clarification. With smirks and raised brows, they say truthfully, 'do we need one?' Then it seems as if the mere thought of them answering you is an offense in and of itself. Your bruised body is proof of what happens when they take such false offense personally. Catching the ire of the guards is never wise. When you did, the price, no matter if you engage or not, is this. Chains confining your ankles and wrists to keep you standing for hours on end. At times, the guards come in and allow you rest, while other times, they simply smirk from the barred gate, malice, and appeasement in their eyes. <<if $nosa is false>>\ //This next choice determines if your character has been sexually abused. Please consider if you wish to go this route.// [[And though not as much ... they did appalling things. (This will activate the variable.)|0SA]] [[And then once again you are left alone. (This will NOT activate the variable.)|AloneRuben2][$nosa to true]] <<else>>\ You then go without food and water, your body forced to test its limits and your mind mourning as you yet again faced your own mortality. Pondering how a life lived in such a way was worth it. Fighting a battle that felt lost a long time ago, and it was only you who seemed still willing to fight. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Tower ++''</span><</if>> There were times where loneliness and confusion would seep past the cracks and infest your being. You sit in silence, questioning your deeds and your life. You repeat what was said to you by those who knew more. No matter what, you did understand that this was for your own personal well-being. You understood that the world was remorseless. That those existing past these walls weren't kind to someone of your condition. <<if $nosa is false>>\ //This next choice determines if your character has been sexually attacked. Please consider if you wish to go this route.// [[And some within these walls as well. (This will activate the variable.)|0SA]] [[You were fortunate that those here took pity on you. (This will NOT activate the variable.)|0.10][$nosa to true]] <<else>>\ <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Free ++''</span><</if>> It felt odd that even after all these years, your spirit still yearned to be free. That even though your wings could not form, your soul still took flight and flew amongst clouds and overlooked valleys and lakes. The warnings were all the same, and though you heard them, it did not stop you from wishing to venture into a world that felt peculiar to you. Remembering that you were once part of it felt even odder, a lie that you simply dreamt one night and have never been able to disregard. It would sometimes cause doubt as well. Driving you to question if what you were told was truthful or if it was simply the words of those who were fearful of what may become of you. Those voices reminding you of the horrors and monsters that rest beyond. <<if $nosa is false>>\ //This next choice determines if your character has been sexually attacked. Please consider if you wish to go this route.// [[You found some horrors could exist within these walls. (This will activate the variable.)|0SA]] [[And so you stay, merely imagining. (This will NOT activate the variable.)|0.10][$nosa to true]] <<else>>\ <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if $route_ruben>>\ A handful will come in and stare. They exchange glances with a compatriot and laugh and joke, speaking crudely of perverse ideas before leaving. But they don't always go. No, sometimes you can only silently beg them to leave you be. Wandering limbs always leads to a body that no longer feels your own. It is a transgression that throws itself upon all defense levels, chuckling at their fragility before pushing further. At those moments, you no longer feel any form of control. All is lost, and you feel like a pawn and an object. Your mind frantically attempts to figure out what to do and how it should feel. It races towards accusations and beliefs that have no concrete evidence. While your heart lies bleeding out in its cage, tucked away and sheathed in vile darkness that feels far friendlier than anything the world can offer. [[Over time, you grow numb to it.][$numb +=2]] [[Each defilement is met with anger.][$anger +=2]] [[You weep for what is lost each time.][$sad +=2]] <<else>>\ It had been a one time incident, but that didn't lessen the blow and the memory was still there for better or worse. A guard whose face you have never seen, and has since never seen again, had touched you, despite you telling them to leave you be. You were threatened, told to stay quiet and speak nothing of what took place. Wandering limbs led to a body that no longer felt your own. It was a transgression that threw itself upon all defense levels, chuckling at their fragility before pushing further. At that moment, you no longer felt any form of control. All was lost, and you felt like a pawn and an object. Your mind frantically attempted to figure out what to do and how it should feel. It raced towards accusations and beliefs that had no concrete evidence. While your heart lied bleeding out in its cage, tucked away and sheathed in vile darkness that felt far friendlier than anything the world could offer. [[Numbness mostly.][$numb +=2]] [[Anger at all of it.][$anger +=2]] [[A deep sadness settling.][$sad +=2]] <</if>>\
It has happened so many times that you fail to correctly pinpoint the beginning. The atrocities morph and bleed into the other, creating one long string of unresolved crimes. You do remember the moment you feared for your sanity. Fretting that your soul was teetering on a precipice that you didn't wish to fall into, knowing if such a thing is done, then there was no hope of climbing out. And with that anxiety as motivation, you closed yourself off. Each time they touched you, your mind went blank, and your body was no longer yours. You go somewhere far away, somewhere that you can't picture but pray is there. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You did not sit and allow such things to befall you, but even that you paid for. You rage, throwing the energy you possessed at the monsters who believed themselves a possessor of your body and innocence. You roar and denounce them, shouting curses as you fight for what is yours. And in the end, you find that it isn't even the violations that are always the worse. It's the beating that accompanies it. The soldiers wishing to teach you a lesson, to leave out and say that they were the ones who extinguished the flame of the phoenix. And you, lying in your blood with a bruised body, always feared that they did just that. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
They come, they take, and then they leave. They leave you in a puddle of your own fear and depression. They laugh and snicker, applauding one another as if they had done something to be proud of. You question what you can do to stop this, be nicer or meaner? Try to disappear more or even try and make yourself more prominent than what you are? Fight back or not at all? Nothing changes the crimes they commit against you, and no matter how much you try to understand, you get no closer to a clear discernment. You are defenseless, and in the end, you can only weep for the portion of your soul that they ripped away. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
At that moment, you had been ignored. Your questions and concerns and wants all but shoved to the side, and you felt yourself becoming more of an object than a person. You were unsure of what was happening, but you recall that emotion, or perhaps lack of. Your mind shushing you and bringing you close, coaxing you into pleasant darkness for the time being. And after, it was a mix of events. You recall the act of telling the woman who watched over you, Watcher Fennore. Anger seizing her being as she quickly punished the guard in question, telling you that nothing like it would ever happen again. And, she was right. She talked you through it, sat you down, and informed you that if anything made you uncomfortable, then you should tell her. Your body never forgot. And your mind, though attempting to heal, still retained that scar. But you felt that perhaps, even with scarring that refused to disappear, healing was possible. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The confusion mixed with humiliation and those two things morphed into the understanding that you had no control or say in what was happening to you. All of that was then swept into a cyclone of rage. You had thrashed and attempted to get away, but you earned harsh words and even harsher slaps. Hot tears stinging sensitive cheeks and your spirit behaving like that of a caged animal. And after, it was a mix of events. You recall the act of telling the woman who watched over you, Watcher Fennore. Anger seizing her being as she quickly punished the guard in question, telling you that nothing like it would ever happen again. And, she was right. She talked you through it, sat you down, and informed you that if anything made you uncomfortable, then you should tell her. Your body never forgot. And your mind, though attempting, still retained that scar. But you felt that perhaps, even with scarring that refused to disappear, healing was possible. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You remember feeling an immense amount of sadness, much like you did when you were bedridden, unable to move as everyone gazed on with a mix of emotions in their eyes. It was like saying goodbye to a dear friend that you knew you would never see again, a friend that has helped you through so much but at that moment would become nothing more than a passing memory. You remember crying, sobbing, and being told to hush or worse would happen. Doing what was asked of you, your sobs lessened, but internally, you had continued to scream. And after, it was a mix of events. You recall the act of telling the woman who watched over you, Watcher Fennore. Anger seizing her being as she quickly punished the guard in question, telling you that nothing like it would ever happen again. And, she was right. She talked you through it, sat you down, and informed you that if anything made you uncomfortable, then you should tell her. Your body never forgot. And your mind, though attempting, still retained that scar. But you felt that perhaps, even with scarring that refused to disappear, healing was possible. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
At this moment, you feel as if your standing interval has gone on for at least five hours, but how are you to know? You lost feeling a long time ago, your muscles past mere fatigue, and your body tired of screaming at you to sit when you obviously will not obey. You believe that you have collapsed at least once, but you are unsure. The chains allow little movement, but at most, collapsing is just your knees buckling and your body lurching forward. You think you smirk. You at least do so in your head. All of this due to you mouthing off to a guard. A guard that deserves it no less. His hatred for you is rabid, and like this entire place, felt misplaced. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You then go without food and water, your body forced to test its limits and your mind mourning as you yet again face your own mortality. Pondering how a life lived in such a way is worth it. Fighting a battle that feels lost a long time ago, and it is only you who seems still willing to fight. <a data-passage="0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_ruben>>\ You don't know how many more hours or days you typically spend in this profane isolation. And afterward, no one speaks of what has happened. They all walk past you with hesitant smiles that they believe are genuine. Their eyes make contact with yours for a fraction of a second before darting away, perusing the stone walls as if something intriguing can be found amongst the grey, ivy-covered surface. The guards are the only ones who do not hide their emotions. Some will sneer and snarl when you pass, while others stare on, side-eying you. <<if $nosa>>It's hard to tell anymore which you prefer.<<else>>There are few who ignore your existence entirely, you are but a walking figure to them. But then, there are those who look at you like a walking object, who wink while giving you immoral sneers.<</if>> And as time goes on, you once again are treated 'humanely.' As if the terrors of this cell does not cling and wear you like a meat suit. Three meals a day will be delivered to you by a good-natured servant, and you go to the study to learn and practice what you wish. Supervised walks in the courtyard are allowed, and perhaps even a stroll through the garden. Then you retire to your immaculate quarters that alone would suffice anyone but, in truth, harbor damnable secrets. All of this will be yours until the time yet again comes for you to be 'taught a lesson' or you do something frowned upon. And then you are no longer a person. Your emotions and feelings are traded in for grimy floors and silent stone with all but a promise that they'll be returned at a later date. You become as important as the soot along the floor and as lost as your detached soul allows. Perhaps that is the point, the oscillating temperaments and treatment. It does more to mess with your psyche than just being a prisoner, for this treatment causes you to forever be on guard. Forever wary about when the next shift will be. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $route_nour>>\ You don't know how many more hours or days you typically spend in this profane isolation. Afterward, you are invisible. A ghost who haunts the halls until Watcher Tyrae is prepared to 'practice' on you yet again. Servants and guards alike pass you by, sparing a fraction of their attention before finding that perusing the stone walls and the grey, ivy-covered surface is much more interesting. All this until you are put under her meticulous gaze, strapped to the metal table awaiting the consequences of her art. The metallic liquid, and how everything burns as a ringing is let loose. The fingers underneath your skin that unsheathe their claws and demand to be let free. It fades like so many other things into something far more euphoric, but time always seems to speed up at that time. It grants you but a taste of sweetness before your body becomes a courier of pain, only relinquishing the sensation when yet again the metal liquid takes you. Until then, three meals a day will be delivered to you by a good-natured servant, and you go to the study to learn and practice what you wish. Supervised walks in the courtyard are allowed, and perhaps even a stroll through the garden. Then you retire to your immaculate quarters that alone would suffice anyone but, in truth, harbor damnable secrets. All of this will be yours until your body and mind are once again needed for reasons you still don't understand. To be experimented on and to satisfy the demands of another. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ And afterward, you would be free to go about your day as if any other. The servants would all walk past you, some with hesitant smiles that they believed were genuine. Their eyes would make contact with yours for a fraction of a second before darting away, perusing the stone walls as if something intriguing could be found amongst the grey, ivy-covered surface. The guards did not behave the same, their thoughts on you drifting between respectable to restrained hostility. Some will sneer and snarl when you pass, but many give a nod of camaraderie. Others even stopping to chat, asking about your day and how well you were getting on. They would question you about sparring and if you would be around for yet another session near the battlements. You were one of them, perhaps even a step above them in their eyes, but a compatriot nevertheless. Three meals a day would be delivered to you by a fidgety servant, and you would go to the study to learn and practice what you wish. Unsupervised walks in the courtyard would be allowed, and perhaps even a stroll among the garden. Then you would retire to your immaculate quarters that alone would suffice anyone but harbor damnable secrets. All of this would be yours until the time yet again came for you to be ‘taught a lesson’ or you did something frowned upon. And then your torturous screams would slam against these stone walls. Your emotions and feelings traded in for bloody puddles and stained stone with all but a promise that they’d be returned at a later date. You became as noteworthy as the soot along the floor and as lost as your fleeing soul would allow. You understood that this was just preparing you for a fraction of what the world would reciprocate. This would steel your heart, and one-day cold fire would produce in your lungs as you faced them. Death would be viewed as a companion whose attempt to mock your steps only caused its own imbecility to be displayed. But until that day, the weakness would have to be drained from you. And there was no other way. <a data-passage="0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if $route_ozara>>\ The door opens once again, but instead of inattentive servants, a familiar woman enters. With a sweet smile, she bows and says, "dinner is -" Trailing off, her eyes grace the mural. "They did such a splendid job. I'm in awe. Do you like it?" You don't answer, not because of rudeness but due to wondering if you truly cared for it or not. It was pretty, but an alluring sight was surface level. It hardly meant an individual respected and identified with the work. [[You don't answer.][$numb +=10]] [[It brought on a melancholy feeling.][$sad +=10]] [[It ... angers you ...][$anger +=10]] <<else>>\ The cell gate is unlocked, and a familiar woman quickly comes in. <<if $route_ruben>>\ "I'm so sorry," she murmurs, loud enough for you to hear the emotion lacing her words. She leans forward as if to cup your face in worry. //This choice will change whether or not you shy away from touch. This will lead to different conversations in the future.// [[Move away. (You are nervous of physical touch.)][$notouchy to true]] [[Let her cup your face. (You are not against physical touch.)]] <<else>>\ She mumbles something and part of you wishes to ask her to scream. You miss hearing the friendly voices of others, of engaging in conversations that do not revolve around your current state and how it influences another's findings. Nyana'iva's hand touches yours as she frees your shackled wrists. You hiss in pain as your skin feels like it flares up while everything within shivers. Describing such a sensation always seems like one of the hardest things to do. This sensation is still relatively new compared to the other symptoms you have gradually become accustomed to. Explaining it has become nigh impossible, as it always feels like you are burning not due to heat but to chill. It is not constant. After Tyrae has finished with you, your body ignores any touch placed upon it. Touch is a distant friend that will later turn its back to you in disgust, causing pain for the sake of it. "My apologies," she gasps, immediately retracting her hands and giving you a look that borders on pity. You turn away, your heart sinking at the realization of your words. "Wouldn't be the first time." You wish to rejoice with the knowledge that freedom is now so close. You want to feel alleviated and whole. You cannot. It's taxing, all of it. And each time it happens, it draws more and more life out of you. Why? Why is this your life? Your norm? What did you do to bring such atrocious actions onto your head? The eerie atmosphere of your mind remembers so little, and what it does remember presents itself with such deformity that you have to question its validity. You recall wings burning and your shocked form falling from the sky as it darkens. You remember being broken and being sent here for treatment, but that is it. You recall no more. But there is much more. Fifteen years of memories can't just disappear. [[Hit the wall in anger.][$anger +=10]] [[Lean against the wall and cry.][$sad +=10]] [[Do nothing. For you felt nothing.][$numb +=10]] <</if>>\ <</if>>\
You pull away before her fingers can grace your cheeks. Giving her a reprimanding look that she deciphers well enough on her own. "Wouldn't be the first time," you manage to get out. You wish to breathe out at the knowledge that freedom is now so close. You want to feel alleviated and whole. You cannot. It's taxing, all of it. And each time it happens, it draws more and more life out of you. Why? Why is this your life? Your norm? What did you do to bring such atrocious actions onto your head? Fifteen years ago, your life ended. It ended when your wings burned away, and you found yourself falling from the sky. It ended when your days were spent laying motionless on a bed, healers mumbling over you about your chances and the unlikelihood of you seeing another Smoten. [[Hit the wall in anger.][$anger +=10]] [[Lean against the wall and cry.][$sad +=10]] [[Do nothing. For you felt nothing.][$numb +=10]]
You allow her to cup your face, her brows knitted and her grey eyes soft as they look you over. "Wouldn't be the first time," you manage to get out. You wish to breathe out at the knowledge that freedom was now so close. You want to feel alleviated and whole. You cannot. It was taxing, all of it. And each time it happens, it draws more and more life out of you. Why? Why was this your life? Your norm? What did you do to bring such atrocious actions onto your head? Your life had ended. It ended when your wings burned away, and you found yourself falling from the sky. It ended when your days were spent laying motionless on a bed, healers mumbling over you about your chances and the unlikelihood of you seeing another Smoten. [[Hit the wall in anger.][$anger +=10]] [[Lean against the wall and cry.][$sad +=10]] [[Do nothing. For you felt nothing.][$numb +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>>''</span><</if>> You stare at the mural for a second longer before turning your back to it. Walking past Nyana'iva, you make your way down the hallway, numbly listening to the sound of her footsteps thudding behind you as she attempts to catch up. You hear her breathe in, but she doesn't say anything, and you bask in the silence. The two of you walk side by side and when you gaze over to peer at her, you ... [[Blush, you might have a bit of a crush.][$nyana to "crush"]] [[Smile, she was a dear friend.][$nyana to "friend"]] [[Frown, she was only a servant to you.][$nyana to "servant"]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>>''</span><</if>> The scene before you was freeing and beautiful. You could picture a figure prancing through the woods, swaying to music so soft and lovely that it lifts your spirits just enough to crave it. They are joined by others and with spirited souls they dash further into the beauty of the forest while the creatures of the woods look on. You would never have that. You would forever be trapped in this tower. Forever forced to look at a mural that depicts a life that was hard to dream of, let alone touch. You say nothing to Nyana'iva, she didn't need to hear what you had to say. You fear you wouldn't even be able to get it all out without clamming up or breaking down. In silence, the two of you walk towards the kitchens. Walking side by side, you find yourself peering over at her and you ... [[Blush, you might have a bit of a crush.][$nyana to "crush"]] [[Smile, she was a dear friend.][$nyana to "friend"]] [[Frown, she was only a servant to you.][$nyana to "servant"]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>>''</span><</if>> The longer you stare at the mural, the more your animosity grows. It wasn't the mural itself that caused your hand to turn to fists and your insides to scream, but what it meant. It was the knowledge that if you had been given a choice, a sincere choice, you would have declined it. But your need to avoid conflict and the punishment for simply wanting something when you had nothing was what pushed you to agree. And that lack of being in charge of your own life, even when given a choice that appears so simple, is what angers you. You say nothing to Nyana'iva, she didn't need to hear what you had to say, and you didn't wish to take out your anger on her. She joins you, and the two of you walk down the hallway in tandem. A few steps in and you find yourself peering over at her, you smile. Their are times where the two of you do not agree, but you believe that to only be natural, and it does not put you off or make you question her friendship. Nyana'iva is loyal and sweet and goes out of her way to make sure you are comfortable and happy, even after ... Your thoughts trail off, and your breathing grows unsteady as your eyes instinctively roam to her covered arms. "I shall be back," she reassures you, looking as if she wants to touch you but flinches instead. [[You do as well. (You are nervous of physical touch.)][$notouchy = true]] [[Look away. (You are not against physical touch.)]]
Almost simultaneously, you jerk away before her hands can land near you. You aren't sure if you should be the one to apologize or if you should remain silent. The air grows awkward, but thankfully, she speedily walks to the adjoining room before it has time to sit and fester within either of your minds. <<include "0.10.1">>
It does not matter how often this has happened; each time it does, you feel just as awful as before. Nyana'iva has always been an affectionate person, but you ... you're the one who ruined that for her, all due to your inability to listen and concentrate. And ... You shake your head, refusing to continue the thought. Thankfully, she does not linger and leaves your side to enter the adjoining room. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span><</if>> You envision the pain and cast it out, metaphorically at least, as the pain goes nowhere and as you right yourself, it hurts just the same. You bite your lip, hoping that a new source of agony would take at least some of your mind off the action. By the time you are upright, the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue. But it is minor compared to what came before. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span><</if>> Gritting your teeth, you fight past everything your body throws at you. All the pain and torment. Each second feels like you're facing a losing battle, the pain becoming unbearable. You wish to throw yourself to the ground and cry, to curse nothing in particular but everything all at the same time. You hate your weakness. And you hated that the guards were here to see this. //Stand!// You shout at yourself, and though the misery never laxes, you manage to get to your feet. Your eyes are watery, and your breath escapes you. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span> <</if>>\ It was an odd technique and one that will undoubtedly catch up to you in the future. Perhaps it will descend in the form of you no longer being able to walk or run, or simply you will be so detached from your body that even death won't earn a simple blink of recognition. But that was the future. For now, this technique worked, and you were content to keep it at that. You feel the pain and block it out one by one, casting it away as if such an act was possible. You continue this until you find yourself standing. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span> <</if>>\ In a rage, you hit the wall, relishing the jolt of pain that speeds through your knuckles and up your arm. For a brief moment, you are met with a reprieve from the dark abyss that you have found yourself experiencing since your imprisonment. You are instead greeted by pain, flashing, and raging. A pain that you feel would have a maniacal laugh if you were to personify it. It’s an old acquaintance, one that you have met many times recently and have garnered great respect for. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span> <</if>>\ You almost don’t know what comes over you. One minute you’re walking towards the exit, your entire being radiating with renewed energy, and the next, you deflate. You slump against the wall, weak and caring little for moving. It hurts. Your entire being just hurts. Knowing what tomorrow will bring and the days after that. Knowing that no matter how much you question or pray, or reassure yourself, nothing will change. Not knowing why you are in this situation to begin with. All of it overloads your brain, and the only way to get it out is through tears. Tears that you shed quickly. <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span> <</if>>\ You follow Nyana'iva out of the cell, telling yourself that you should feel joy. That there should be a spark of excitement radiating within you as you finally leave your prison behind you. But what joy is there to be had when you know you will see it again? What anger can be felt when it is all so ingrained in routine? You began to lose feeling long ago, a numbness that leeches onto your heart and infects it. And it spread. Sun alone knows how far it has spread. It permeates your body and makes you its host, and you can do nothing, nor do you wish to. When given the option of whether to feel or not, why would you choose emotion? Why would you trap yourself in such a way? <<include "0.10.1">>
<<if $route_ruben or $route_nour>>\ <<if $notouchy>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>"Come now, $name. Let's go find you something to eat and drink." With slow movements, Nyana'iva reaches out to support you, but you pull away.<<else>>"Come," Nyana'iva says promptly, gesturing for you to follow. She reaches out to support you but then recoils, pondering if it is wise to do so.<</if>> <<if $route_ruben>>\ "$name, you need help." "I know," <<if $leery >=50>>you growl, raising your hand to stave her off.<<else>>you attempt to say but it comes out as a whimper.<</if>> You calm your breathing and once you think you are okay, you motion for her to come to your side. You travel down the brightly lit hallway until a set of stairs rest in your way. You have no energy, but Nyana’iva is careful and observant, helping you up every step. She walks you to the kitchen and carefully sits you down. <<else>>\ You can hardly fault her for such a lapse. This touching sensation is relatively new, though her wish to keep her distance from you is not. Calming your breathing, you focus on ignoring the sensation that will surge across your skin. When ready, you motion for her to come to your side. You travel down the brightly lit hallway until a set of stairs rest in your way. You have no energy, but Nyana’iva is careful and observant, helping you up every step. She walks you to the kitchen and carefully sits you down. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ "Come now, $name. Let's go find you something to eat and drink." Nyana'iva supports you as the two of you travel down the brightly lit hallway until coming across a set of stairs. You have no energy, but Nyana’iva is careful and observant, helping you up every step. She walks you to the kitchen and carefully sits you down. <</if>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>“I shall be back,” she reassures you, speed walking<<else>>Upon making sure that you're fine, she speed walks<</if>> out of the small common area and to an adjoining room. <a data-passage="0.10.0.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ Though muffled, you can hear her in the kitchen. "Deidre, do you mind making something for $name?" "You're late, Nyana'iva. Dinner ended an hour ago." "My sincere apologies, I was not by $name's side as I had to help with training some of the newer servants." "Oh my," a voice you have not heard speak yet adds in, sighing, "that's new. Most times you will never find one of you far away from the other. Must have been hard for you." You pause, snorting at how the person exaggerates. It was true that the two of you were close but you spent an ample amount of time without the other's company. You pause, waiting for Nyana'iva to either scold or entertain them. The silence continues when finally she says, "just get the food, please." A minute later, Nyana’iva leaves the kitchen and walks back over to you, setting down the food with a friendly smile. "Once you're done eating, you can rest. Or if you're not tired, I can take you to the study, and you can sharpen your skills. Perhaps …" [[“... brush up on your astrology?”][$stars +=20]] [[“... test you on ecology?”][$nature +=20]] [[“... sharpen your musical skill?”][$music +=20]] [[“... help with your acrobatics?”][$acrobat +=20]] [[“... work on your art?”][$art +=20]] <</if>>\
Though muffled, you can hear her still, "Deidre, do you mind making something for $name?" "Oh, is the little birdie finally free?" <<if $route_ruben>>\ For a second, your heart skips a beat, and you stiffen in your seat, hoping not to show the anxiety that seizes your spine. You only calm down when you hear another voice, one you have not heard speak yet and is not Laurens. They add in, "why <<verb 'was'>> ?he even put there? I heard little gossip." You pause, waiting for Nyana'iva to either scold or entertain them. <<else>>\ Another voice adds in, "there goes our freedom, I suppose. Would it be too much to wish for Tyrae to simply keep ?him in the dungeons?" "Shatai, that would be horrible. It is not ?his_ fault." "I truly feel for you mostly, Nyana'iva. It must be difficult." You pause, waiting for Nyana’iva to either scold or entertain them. <</if>>\ The silence continues when finally Nyana'iva says, "just get the food, please." A minute later, she leaves the kitchen and walks back over to you, <<if $nyana is "crush">>making it a point to avoid your gaze. You take note of the slight tinge of color that decorates her cheeks and glance away, feeling a bit better about blushing before as well.<<elseif $nyana is "friend">>setting down the food with a friendly smile.<<else>>putting on a brave smile as she places the plate in front of you. Her smiles never reach her eyes. That is a characteristic that you learned and noticed early about her. You always thought it was due to the two of you being unacquainted. <<if $route_nour>>And though not much has changed in that field, you like to think that you aren't complete strangers to one another.<<else>>That can no longer be said, and yet and still, the fictitious smile remains.<</if>><</if>> "Once you're done eating, you can rest. Or if you're not tired, I can take you to the study, and you can sharpen your skills. Perhaps …" [[“... brush up on your astrology?”][$stars +=20]] [[“... test you on ecology?”][$nature +=20]] [[“... sharpen your musical skill?”][$music +=20]] [[“... help with your acrobatics?”][$acrobat +=20]] [[“... work on your art?”][$art +=20]]
<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You tap the wall with short and abrupt knocks, fighting the need to punch it and focusing on the minimal stinging pain in your knuckles. Once a great deal of the anger slips away, you navigate the rest of the way down and head towards the kitchen.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>You bite down on your lip, warning the tears to leave you and for the whimpers to cease. Once you bring yourself under control, you navigate the rest of the way down, still aware of the pain that takes over. Entering the kitchen, you see a few servants rushing back and forth, cleaning up the aftermath of dinner.<<else>>You let the moment pass and once ready, navigate the rest of the way down, still aware of the pain that takes over. Entering the kitchen, you see a few servants rushing back and forth, cleaning up the aftermath of dinner.<</if>> "Is there any left?" you question and all the servants pause, none seeming to want to answer you. Most of them avoid your gaze, finding dishes and counters more worthy of their attention. "Of course, we will make you a plate," one of the servants mutters, elbowing the woman beside her. The two of them get to work on your request but do nothing to run off the awakard air that hovers over you all. You were unbothered, this was not the first time the servants have treated you like an outsider. As you wait, you wonder what you would do next. You could always … [[… brush up on your astrology.|0.10.2][$stars +=20]] [[… test yourself on ecology.|0.10.2][$nature +=20]] [[… sharpen your musical skill.|0.10.2][$music +=20]] [[… improve your acrobatics.|0.10.2][$acrobat +=20]] [[… work on your art.|0.10.2][$art +=20]]
"Perhaps brush up on your astrology? I think I found some books that you haven’t yet combed through. And I even managed to find one of the constellations." <<include "0.10.2">>
"Perhaps I could test you on your knowledge of ecology. A few flora and fauna questions, even a few about what you can find locally. I think a new plant was discovered." <<include "0.10.2">>
"Perhaps sharpen your musical skill. You have exceptional talent with the lute, but I don’t need to remind you of that. You can shift your attention to the meqai drums or the goctu." <<include "0.10.2">>
"Perhaps I can watch you as you practice your acrobatics. You seem to always enjoy that." <<include "0.10.2">>
"Perhaps I can join you while you work on some of your unfinished art pieces. One of the servants recently brought some fresh paint in so you should have every color you need.<<if $route_ozara>> Perhaps soon you may even be able to add your own mural to your wall."<<else>>"<</if>> <<include "0.10.2">>
<<if $route_ozara>>\ You think over her words and nod, you had no problem with any of her suggestions. It would at least keep your mind active for a bit longer. "Wait," you voice, reminding yourself at the last minute that you had already made a promise to see Watcher Fennore today, "Fennore wished to see me later." "Of course," she answers back. You place your attention on your food. [[Same old, same old.][$tower -=3]] [[Your mouth was watering.][$tower +=3]] <<elseif $route_zarik>>\ But at the same time, you wished to only eat, drink, and then sleep. You question if a bath should be included, but your spent bones and muscles immediately tell you that it wasn’t. The servant passes you a plate and with a nod of thanks, you leave to go sit and eat. The aroma screams for the dish to be devoured, quickly and with no remorse. But you had learned early that gobbling it down was unwise, lest you wish to throw it back up in a matter of hours. And so you take your time, though you share no such discretion regarding your drink. You gulp each cup down, continually rising to refill it until realizing that you should just bring the entire pitcher. With your stomach as full as it can be, you make the trek to your room. Walking further in, you stop beside the dresser that holds far too few personal items. The only thing that you felt held any kind of importance was that of a broken hourglass. It has been there for as long as you know, and not once has it ever shown itself to work. It was now seen more as an ironic prop, causing you to feel slightly better due to not being the only broken thing in the room. [[Pray to Sun.|0.10Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Lay down.|0.10LD]] <<else>>\ "I wish to eat, drink, and then sleep." You question if a bath should be included, but your spent bones and muscles immediately tell you that it's not. Nyana'iva stiffens and nods, brushing a stray blonde lock away from her face and securing it behind her pointed ear. She stands, not returning until she has a plate in her hands. The aroma screams for the dish to be devoured, quickly and with no remorse. But you have learned early that gobbling it down is unwise, lest you wish to throw it back up in a matter of hours. And so you take your time, though you share no such discretion regarding your drink. You gulp each cup down, continually having Nyana'iva rise to go refill it until she realizes she should just bring the entire pitcher. With your stomach as full as it can be, you are accompanied to your room, refusing to look at the two guards who seem frustrated that they once again have to stand duty outside your door. You enter, taking the space in with a sigh and finding that you missed it, at least compared to the grody conditions of your cell. <<if $route_ruben>>"$name," Nyana’iva utters, bidding you goodnight before leaving the room. She closes the door, and you are once again alone.<<else>>Nyana'iva says nothing else as she closes the door, once again leaving you alone.<</if>> Albeit in far better circumstances than the past few days, but still — alone. Walking further in, you stop beside the dresser that holds far too few personal items. The only thing that you feel holds any kind of importance is that of a broken hourglass. It has been there for as long as you know, and not once has it ever shown itself to work. It is now seen more as an ironic prop, causing you to feel slightly better due to not being the only broken thing in the room. [[Pray to Sun.|0.10Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Lay down.|0.10LD]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Free ++''</span><</if>> You were going to eat it, but you felt like you had eaten this same dish so many times before. Yet another piece of your unvarying schedule. You move the food around with a fork before finally telling yourself to just eat it. "If you don't mind me asking," you say to Nyana'iva, hoping to strike up a conversation and do away with the previous unease. The two of you regularly discuss things, whether it be your recent lessons or off-the-wall subjects that always cause you to think more profoundly than usual. "Why are you now training new servants?" "I mind none," she answers with a large smile, "a few servants have decided to retire. The Watchers like for the number of servants to stay consistent to make sure everything continues to work fluidly. So some of the seniors were asked to help out. I do apologize for the absolutely trite day you probably had." "It's fine. At least this entire day won't be as boring as watching paint dry," you snicker and she joins in with a content smile. <a data-passage="0.10.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Tower ++''</span><</if>> Breathing in, you relish the tantalizing scent of the dish waiting to be devoured. Each bite sees your mostly content stomach humming in satisfaction but that was it. You hardly went a day without receiving at least two meals and so wondering when your next meal would be wasn't ever an issue. "If you don't mind me asking," you say to Nyana'iva, hoping to strike up conversation. The two of you regularly discussed things, whether it be your recent lessons or off the wall subjects that always caused you to think more profoundly than normal. "Why are you now training new servants?" "I mind none," she answers with a large smile, "a few servants have decided to retire. The Watchers like for the number of servants to stay consistent to make sure everything continues to work fluidly. So some of the seniors were asked to help out. I do apologize for the absolutely trite day you probably had." "It's fine. At least this entire day won't be as boring as watching paint dry," you snicker and she joins in with a content smile. <a data-passage="0.10.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You lay down and bring the duvet close, <<if $route_ruben or $route_nour or $route_zarik>>finally experiencing warmth<<else>>basking in a warmth you had been without all day<</if>>. That feels like such a foreign word, one that holds great luxury and far weirder connotations. You scarcely remember feeling the same way about the cold, for a bonfire rests inside of you and keeps even the lightest of drafts away. Now, you only have infrequent cravings of wishing to feel the heat. Though you know that when the blanket provides too much warmth, you will toss it off of you, your body whirring at the alien feeling. <<if $route_zarik>>\ Though you wish only for sleep, you find yourself fighting your fatigued consciousness that wishes to only drift off. You have learned to sleep lightly or not at all, never knowing when Laurens will intrude into your room, seizing you from bed and forcing you to face yet another one of his creative torture ideas. He has said that the two of you will talk later, that later can be whenever he feels. And so, you stay up for as long as you can. And when your eyelids grow heavy, you repeat to yourself to stay aware. No matter what, stay aware. <<elseif $nosa>>\ And with the last bit of your fatigued consciousness slipping, you drift off. <<else>>\ Though you wish only for sleep, you find yourself fighting your fatigued consciousness that wishes to only drift off. You have learned to fear your dreams as much as the waking world, for, in your dreams, past nightmares take shape. Finally, the last of your energy depletes, and your eyes close. Your last thought is a silent hope that you have an uneventful night. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With your stomach as full as it can be, Nyana'iva accompanies you to Watcher Fennore's office, knocking on the door. "Come in," you hear someone within reply. Nyana'iva performs a slight bow before turning and leaving you alone. You enter the office. The lanterns along the walls cast a warm glow around the mid-size tidy room. You have been here many times before, and as you recount those times, you fail to ever remember a time where this room wasn't in pristine condition. You've never seen a paper out of place or a cobweb decorating a corner. The pictures and charts were hung with care and straight, and though you knew it was a mere exaggeration, you felt that even the flames didn't dare sway out of line. "$name," Fennore greets, glancing up from the book in her hands, "it is nice to see you. Give me a minute, my dear." You take a seat and study the woman before you. Most of her beige-colored hair was braided into a crown, the strands doing what they wished as some fluttered down to her shoulders. In respect to her entire appearance, that was the only part that was disorderly. Everything else, from her long robe and sash, to her posture, was straight-edged and immaculate. Finally, she sets down her book and glances up at you with a pleased smile, her dark eyes taking you in. "Oh, $name," she starts, tsking with a shake of her head, "you look atrocious. When's the last time you've groomed yourself?" "Um, I -," you're unable to finish answering as she waves away whatever explanation you were to give. "I'm far more concerned with how you're feeling. Everything feeling alright?" You were unsure why she has begun to ask this question, but it was now so part of the norm that you nod without more than a thought. "Use your words, dear." "I am fine, Watcher Fennore." "Good," she pauses to pour herself something to drink, "though I know you despise them, in a few days I will be giving you a test on etiquette and manners. A comprehensive test really, to go over all that you have learned. How confident are you?" [[“Very.”][$positive +=5]] [[“I would like to review further.”]] [[“Um ... I ...”][$positive -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Hopeful ++''</span> <</if>>\ "I'm confident I'll meet your expecations," you tell her, sitting up straighter and beaming with pride. She chuckles, "well, it's nice that one of us feels such way. Do away with your pride, child. It's not an attractive feature." You feel yourself deflate as she gives you a judging gaze, shaking her head. "It is always the prideful ones who fall the hardest. I don't wish to see you fall, and I'm quite sure you don't wish to do so either." She cocks her head to the side, "not again anyway." "No, Watcher Fennore," you mumble, clearing your throat and repeating the words but in a much clearer tone. <<include "0.10.3OzaraAdd">>
"I think it would be wise for me to review further. At least to remember everything." Fennore is beaming at your words, "I agree and I think that's a wise decision. You should start as soon as possible." "I guess tomorrow would be a good time then." <<include "0.10.3OzaraAdd">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\ <span class="stats">''Bleak ++''</span> <</if>>\ "Um ... I," you trip over your words, your confidence plummetting even further as you attempt to think of everything you could remember about etiquette and manners. Frankly, you were probably ready for such a test. But suddenly being asked about it causes you to clam up and forget that you had ever gone over such topics. Fennore hums with a satisfied smile, "it is fine. You have more time to go over such information to make sure you're ready. There's nothing to fear, my child. You don't give yourself enough credit. I know you won't disappoint me." "I won't," you tell her, head bowed as your insides cackle at what felt like a lie. <<include "0.10.3OzaraAdd">>
"Wonderful." She leans forward now, narrowing her eyes and somehow looking even more daunting than she just did. "I will also ask you to show me what you have learned regarding the use of your fire." Despite preparing for such words, you still stiffen, fighting everything within you to keep from wincing. "You appear nervous," she points out. "I ..." Your voice trails off, not wishing to admit just how terrified you are of yourself after what happened last time. You had been so confident and excited, and all of that, quite literally, went up in flames as your fire lunged for Nyana'iva. It happened a year or so ago, but you can still hear her screaming. Hear Fennore as she ordered you to stop, but you could do no such thing. You were powerless. Able to do nothing but watch as your fire crept up Nyana'iva's arms. [[And from then on, you swore to never again use your magic.|0.10OzaraAddon.SworeToNeverUse][$fear = "powers"]] [[You grew just as afraid of fire as everyone else.|0.10OzaraAddon.FearfulOfSelf][$fear = "self"]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You are against using your abilities, no matter what.<</notify>><</if>> That day haunts you in more ways than one, and you have found only one way to curtail the fear — refusing to use your powers. Fennore has not been happy with this development and has advised you numerous times to do away with the personal avowal. But she did not see Nyana'iva's face. She did not have to shoulder the burden of knowing she was the one who caused such lasting damage. No. You will not be the insolence and danger that rests outside the tower. You will not be the reason those within no longer feel safe. And you never wish to feel that terror again. "I expect to not only see your growth," Fennore comments, pulling you back to the now, "but I also fully expect you to show me what else you have learned from my directions. Understand?" You simply nod, the words stuck in your throat. "We shall see. A guard outside will escort you to your room. I hope you have a pleasant rest." With that being all, you rise and leave the room behind, releasing a shaky breath as you follow behind the awaiting guard. Another day is soon to be upon you. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You are terrified of your fire, and by extension, yourself.<</notify>><</if>> That day haunts you completely, outdone only by the day you fell from the sky, a broken being. Fire ... more specifically, your fire, disgusts you. What good has it ever done? What joy has it ever brought you? There are times when you question whether it is disgust or fear that makes you avert your eyes when you see your reflection. That makes you shy away whenever you call upon even the slightest amount of fire. But you suppose it matters little. Especially when you have lost much of what you have learned to such overwhelming fear. On the one hand, you will never have to worry about harming yourself or another like you did Nyana'iva, but on the other, Fennore will never accept your decision. "I expect to not only see your growth," Fennore comments, pulling you back to the now, "but I also fully expect you to show me what else you have learned from my directions. Understand?" You simply nod, the words stuck in your throat. "We shall see. A guard outside will escort you to your room. I hope you have a pleasant rest." With that being all, you rise and leave the room behind, releasing a shaky breath as you follow behind the awaiting guard. Another day is soon to be upon you. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_zarik>>\ You do not pray every night, but you attempt to do it as much as you can. Sun is the guider of warriors. The god that those with strength in their bones look up to, is he not? Hope was once a flickering flame that reminded you far too much of yourself. It needed kindling and constant attention, and even then, it was still so feeble. And then Sun rekindled it. He started you down the path of purpose and understanding, and hope once again was something that you sought out. [[Pray for guidance.|0.10PrayForGuidance]] [[Pray for freedom.|0.10PrayForFreedom]] <<else>>\ You do not pray every night, but you attempt to do it as much as possible. Sun will answer one day, will he not? Or maybe you simply did it now to not feel so alone? Even if nothing happens, then at least someone seems to listen. Hope is a flickering flame that reminds you far too much of yourself. It needs kindling and constant attention, and even then, it is still so feeble. Some time long ago, hope had lost itself. It saw its own reflection and was reviled. And now you are its keeper, for if you give up on it, then surely it will be no more. <<if $nosa>>Whispering a prayer, you hope … well, you hope.<<else>>You whisper a prayer for a soundless and uneventful night, pulling the blanket even closer. You have learned to fear your dreams just as much as the waking world. You once again hope ...<</if>> <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
Sun had given you guidance once when he brought Bane and Laurens into your life. He helped you search for your purpose when you once believed that you were nothing more than a pathetic creature sentenced to die, punished for a curse you had nothing to do with. So, hopefully, he could do so again. Guidance in a time where you were beginning to question yourself and your future. Muttering off the rest of your prayer, you stand and head to bed, pleased to finally end this day and let the ache in your arms and legs recoup. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The thought causes you to pause, not due to fear or anything similar, but not knowing if freedom was what you sought. You hardly knew what it encompassed. Freedom felt like something you experienced every day and yet, not at all. Your life would tell you that you had no need to seek it, for you had it already. You did as you wished and only when you were summoned was your choice to do as you pleased, not your own. Yet even with these thoughts, something inside you yearns for something you once were able to grasp. If pondered upon for too long, the need vanishes until you stand bewildered. Muttering off the rest of your prayer, you stand and head to bed, pleased to finally end this day and let the ache in your arms and legs recoup. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<a data-passage="0.11"><img src="images/twodays.png" alt="2 Days Later" style="float:center"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> "Curse these godforsaken, fucking mountains," Ruben continues to rant, puffing a stream of smoke into his covered hands. They warm for a minute, and the next, he once again finds himself shivering. "Are you still complaining up there, brother?" Tozraz chuckles, opening one of his eyes and dropping his focus. The constant heat that surrounds him vanishes and the woman bundled close to his side mumbles her irritation. "No, Toz, I'm just thanking my d'uun, and whatever deity finds themselves ruling over mountains." "Is there one?" "I will personally create one just to curse them." Toz chuckles in response, rubbing the head of an already agitated Draxmil. He retracts his hand quick enough to avoid losing a finger from the foul-mooded amphiptere. "One would think you'd be used to the snow by now," Deshir voices, smirking at her leader. "I am acclimated to this. But back home Monsuna has already settled and <<link 'Smoten'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The month of potential. Smoten is the hottest and roughly estimated as the longest month of the year. With the growth of Monsuna now showing, Smoten is full of early harvests and adventure. Many cultures have their outdoor festivals during this time and romance is always at its fullest. //Forbidden Lands roughly sees near 169 days of Smoten.//<</dialog>><</link>> is approaching, which means my body is expecting some form of warmth." He waves his hand in the air and scowls, "not whatever you like to call this constant slush. It feels like we're in the dead of Celesow! In addition, not even our snow is this cold." He tilts his head back, releasing a darkened smoke before he screams, "why is it this fucking cold!?" Toz hums, ignoring him, "a phoenix in weather like this? Are we sure we're on the right path?" Ruben rolls his eyes and brings his fur coat closer to his frame, "we're not sure, but the Arch Flame is. That was the best lead they could give us, 'the <<link 'Garami Mountains'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>A towering mountain range resting in the north-eastern area of the Forbidden Land. Its known for its severe conditions and constant blizzards. Few creatures call the mountain range their home and those that do are known for their hardiness.<</dialog>><</link>>.' I'd like to shove -" His tirade ends with the sound of wings beating overhead, their party jerking around as five griffins fly by. One touches the ground and immediately shifts, taking on their first form. As the dust settles, it unveils Nouritis standing before the small group and portraying their house colors whilst wearing a cream fur-lined cloak. <a data-passage="0.11.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
All of Ruben's people stiffen, guttural growls itching to be unleashed as well as their powerful second forms. "Chieftain Ruben," Nour nods, "I'm surprised to see you so far up north. Looking to expand?" "I don't have to explain shit to you chimera," he snarls, "shouldn't you be at home? Pissing everywhere?" Nour blinks, "eloquent, as always. I won't behave as if I don't have an inkling of what you're doing here and who you're hoping to find. The question is why. Are you to tell me that you suddenly feel sympathy for the phoenixes?" "I can say the same about you. The heir phoenix has been gone for what, fifteen or so years, and this entire time you have only grown fat off of power." Nour takes a step closer, only for Ruben to take one as well, glaring down at them and imploring them with his eyes to act. "Do not act as if you know what //I// have been doing. And after all this time, what have you been doing?" "Oh, sorry, I was busy trying to make sure my people weren't dying thanks to being pushed off our ancestral land. You should know something about that, or do they skip that part in griffin school when talking about the <<link 'Second Clan War'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The Second Clan War was nearly a one year war fought between the multiple royal Phaizarn houses. Far bloodier, destructive, and quicker than the first, the war began due to rising tensions between House Chunae and House Dragon as well as House Great Stag and House Basilisk.<</dialog>><</link>>?" <a data-passage="0.11.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nour doesn't deign themselves to answer, taking a calm step back. They motion for their team to rise and then they shift, taking off into the sky once again. An intense rage appears in Ruben's eyes as he watches their fading figures, "Deshir, get on." "What? But I can't track up there and half of us -" Ruben throws her an impatient glare, "which direction were you to have us go in." She points in the direction that the griffins are now flying. "Then we shall go that way. Come. If a griffin thinks it can outfly a dragon, then they have sorely forgotten how the world works." With ease, Ruben finds his internal flame and feels his body shift. It is never a painful process, almost lethargic in his own opinion. It's like shedding armor and then stepping into something much looser and comfortable. When he opens his eyes, he is no longer as close to the ground, and he can feel different muscles rippling, a far more powerful urge pushing him forward. Spotting the griffin's retreating form, he stiffens, drawing back as the roar races up his throat and then frees itself from its den. Nour turns at the sound, murmuring something under their breath as they look upon the newly shifted group of dragons. <a data-passage="0.11.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
From a small cliff, three figures stand overlooking the race. "Well, this just got harder," one points out, grunting tiredly as she combs her fingers through her wavy, green mane. Her rich, melodious accent far too thick to be overlooked. And sometimes too heavy to be properly understood. "Has it?" another questions, part of him wishing to race down and show them who is the fastest. His own fire races through his veins and causes him to become restive. "We knew the griffins would be searching. That much was a given. But the dragons? Why are they here?" They continue to question and speculate, knowing they'll find no answer. It's a question that Ozara finds intriguing as well, but not enough to speak on it. In fact, she would rather call the mission off and head back home. It appears that this phoenix heir has enough seekers. "Let's continue," is all she says, glancing at her two companions, knowing they hear her agitation. They know her too well not to have. They stand silently, following after her and once at the bottom of the cliff. Two of them shift, Ozara allowing the one with the long green mane to mount her. With the action complete, the other takes off, racing off in the direction of the rival houses. But Ozara pauses, walking across the ground in her second form and then freezing. She can feel the tug of powerful magic against her skin, wishing to be uncovered. Her eyes scan the area behind her but find nothing there. She paws at the snow, allowing her senses to take her closer to the pull. "Is all well, Ozara?" the woman questions, placing her hand on Ozara's neck. She snorts as an answer, and with one last scrutinizing glare, she canters off. A few minutes later and the snow rustles, giving way to a scaly body and a pair of eyes. Most of the creature stays buried underneath the snow, its alabaster scales allowing it to go unnoticed by anyone who doesn't linger. Deep purple eyes watch as horses, dragons, and griffins alike race towards the horizon, closer to the mountains. It feels no rush. There is no need to compete, especially when it holds no doubt that it will be victorious in the end. With one last glance, it travels out of the snow and shifts its direction to the left. <a data-passage="0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> <<if $route_nour>>\ Calloused fingers meet their counterparts as you ponder your intolerance regarding touch. You feel no pain when it is your own hand, but there is a numbness concerning the actions. Or perhaps that is simply the only way you can phrase such thoughts. When another touches you, it is poison. The agony and burn are unlike any other, and you beg to be freed. You learned of the new symptom when a guard grabbed you, refusing to release you even though your screams filled the empty halls. Only when they released you into the care of Tyrae did you all see that your wrist looked like it had acquired the black death. Tyrae's anger had only been hampered by her curiosity and developing ecstaticness. Ultimately, she added yet another regulation to your handling: no touching unless authorized by her. Your finger trails down your palm before you interlock your hands. You stare at them for a time, aware of how your heart feels it's being squeezed by some invisible force. It is the newest symptom, hardly a year old, and yet it feels like you have suffered it all your life. To be held, wanted, loved ... what would any of that feel like? <<else>>\ <<if $route_ozara or $route_makaio>>Gentle<<else>>Calloused<</if>> hands fiddle with loose threads, and wistful, $eyes eyes stare out at snow-capped mountains. At the moment, the blizzard has decided to cease, leaving a rare moment of respite. The fresh snow on distant mountains shimmers under a cloud-covered sun, resembling fragments of poorly hidden treasure. There are rare times where you dream of escaping to explore the peaks and take in the stunning sight that they surely have to offer. The impracticality of the thoughts isn’t lost on you. But when your mind is faced with less venturous paths, it is a sensible thing to ponder. <</if>>\ <<if $route_zarik>>\ You are unsure if any of your superiors have anything planned for you today. Laurens spoke to you about the day he punished you but thankfully, it was nothing noteworthy. Bane has not shown herself either, though that isn't as rare. When you were a child, Bane was a much more prominent figure in the tower. You fail to remember a day going by where Bane hadn't been around, helping you to adjust and understand how everything works. The one constant in a ever-shifting world that sought to exclude you. As you got older, she was seen less and less and Laurens replaced her in recurrence. Nowadays, Bane only shows her face when she wishs to test you or if something has happened. Taking a steady breath in, you try to figure out what you can do if your presence is indeed not needed. But that thought causes you to think about your long awaited purpose. You are never quite sure what it all means, Bane has never really informed you about it. She told you of a curse, placed upon you due to the errors of your ancestors. And instead of heeding such devestation to come, your parents and theirs as well were laxed, scoffing and caring none for what would soon be released on them. //You will be our harbinger. The catalyst to what will soon be the status quo. With you, all will burn and the world will finally be at peace.// Bane's words sounded alien to a child whose only true want at the time was understanding why they were abandoned. The words still ring slightly hollow to ears that have heard it countless times but fail to comprehened them anymore than the last. All you truly know is that you are to be a soldier in whatever is to come. Their soldier. You gaze down at your hands, they don't quite appear like hands that can topple nations as strong as Treces' Houses. [[You are ready to do what is needed.|0.12.1][$trouble +=5; $cold +=10]] [[You don't wish to be their soldier, but you are prepared nevertheless.|0.12.1][$trouble -=5; $cold +=10]] [[You will play your part, but hope for better ways.|0.12.1][$trouble +=5; $cold -=10]] [[You don't like this. There has to be a better way.|0.12.1][$trouble -=5; $cold -=10]] <<elseif $route_makaio>>\ After yesterday's events, you're unsure what is now expected of you. Typically, you rise, go-to breakfast, and then head to class along with all the others. But the Selection eliminated that, and everyone will now meet up in their designated groups with the Watcher that chose them. //Everyone is chosen at The Selection.// Yet again, those words find their way to you. There must be a specific word for the stupidity that you exhibit. Bad things chase behind you as if you are a magnet. And now that you think such a thing, you believe it even more. Your thoughts are proving to be your worst enemy. But thankfully, a knock at your door stops you from delving too deep. "$name?" a guard questions, opening the door, "Bane wishes to speak with you. You are to follow me." [[“What does she want?”|M0.12WhatDoesSheWant][$mouthy +=5; $timid -=5]] [[Nod and follow the guard.|M0.12NodAndFollow][$mouthy -=5; $timid +=5]] <<elseif $route_nour>>\ "$name?" You turn to see Nyana'iva standing in the threshold of your room. "Shall I escort you to the study area?" "Is a reply required?" She almost looks crestfallen as she sighs and shakes her head, shifting so that she can guide you to the destination. The two of you wander down the familiar hallways that have never seemed to grow warmer since your time being here. In fact, they have grown colder. Trapped within their cracks are memories that dangle on the edge of a steep drop that will most surely consume them. Some of them, easier to grab onto than others. One such memory is that of content faces, and Nyana'iva having the potential to be a light within the darkness. She once cared about your wellbeing. Now, she simply does whatever is needed before making herself scarce. [[You let her go.|0.12NourPLetGo][$spirit -=5; $positive -=5]] [[You fought as much as you could for her.|0.12NourPFight][$spirit +=5; $positive +=5]] <<else>>\ “How does that sound, $name?” You pull yourself away from the window to gaze over at Nyana’iva. “How does what sound?” “The activities for the rest of your day? <<if $route_ozara>>You don't have any official lessons planned, and I managed to talk the servants into doing any lingering chores so that you could have a relatively easy day. I'm just trying to think of things that may lift your spirits."<<else>>You have no lessons planned, and I managed to talk the servants into doing any lingering chores so that you could,” she trails off, not wishing to remind you of where you spent your past few days. She clears her throat, “I know you’re terribly bored, so I’m just trying to think of things that will cheer you up.”<</if>> [[Appreciate her for trying.][$leery -=10; $charisma +=5]] [[Turn away wordlessly.][$force +=5]] [[Be sarcastic and cutting.][$leery +=10; $stealth +=5]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Naive ++''</span><</if>> Unable to help yourself, you offer her a thankful smile. <<if $route_ozara>>Though it all still feels relatively mundane. The lessons that Fennore gives sometimes takes a toll on your mind, and you find yourself wistfully hoping for a break. Free days such as this aren't typical and so you aren't about to deny what can be one.<<else>>Years of mundane activities have long since taken a toll on you. You’ve asked your captors for more intriguing topics, as well as activities that will help broaden your skills and minimize your insufficient knowledge. But their answers are always the same, and their punishments, just as atrocious. So, you learned to stop asking.<</if>> <<include "0.12.1">>
You take in her appearance. You understand why she said such a thing, but it seems unreal, like offering a person who has lost their sight a picture book or the chance to walk a visually pleasant garden. You don’t tell her that you find her words insolent, but you hope your body language does. You turn away and go back to staring out the window. <<include "0.12.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Leery ++''</span><</if>> You blink, repeating her words a few times before smirking cruelly, “cheer me up? You know what would truly cheer me up? The absence of you, everyone within, and this tower. That will cheer me up. Can you make that happen?” Nyana’iva doesn’t seem hurt by your words, and her fixed smile only angers you further. <<include "0.12.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Apathy ++ | Bleak ++''</span><</if>> And you let her go. Why fight against the inevitable? You understood that no amount of care for who you were would trump the fear that everyone feels towards Tyrae. You were left to suffer as Tyrae's unique little project that could not be influenced too heavily by forces out of her control. So you were treated as such. Treated like something fragile that has already developed cracks along its exterior, avoided like a single glance would cause a fracture. You wish to say that you have grown used to it. It has been years. But your want for companionship has caused more damage than anything else. The need to feel like more than a simple experiment to be picked up and put down for the sake of results. You hold a great fear close to your heart, a fear and understanding that the day you finally grow used to this is when you no longer see yourself as a person. <<include "0.12.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Ardor ++ | Hopeful ++''</span><</if>> The action was not something that you decided to simply accept. You fought hard and tirelessly for Nyana'iva and her companionship. But in the end, her mindset aligned with those of everyone else. Even after your defeat, a part of you held onto a hope that your actions were not in vain and that Nyana'iva would still attempt to do all that should to support you. You learned that lesson the hard and slow way. You wish to say that you have grown used to it. It has been years. But your want for companionship has caused more damage than anything else. The need to feel like more than a simple experiment to be picked up and put down for the sake of results. You hold a great fear close to your heart, a fear and understanding that the day you finally grow used to this is when you no longer see yourself as a person. <<include "0.12.1">>
<<if $route_ozara>>\ You hear a tweet and glance outside just in time to see a flaxen and chiffon colored bird glide to a small perch below your window. [[It is a lovely sight, but that is all.][$tower +=10]] [[You watch in envy, you wish to see the world.][$tower -=10]] <<elseif $route_zarik>>\ You hear a tweet and glance outside just in time to see a flaxen and chiffon colored bird glide to a small perch below your window. You watch it for some time, attempting to understand what reaction or emotion it's tugging on. Absentmindedly, you reach out, startling the small bird and causing it to fly away. You watch it silently, with as much confusion as a few seconds ago. You need to clear your head, the room is becoming too claustrophobic and stuffy for you. [[Head to the observatory.|0.12Observatory][$stars +=10]] [[Go to the study for music.|0.12OStudyM][$music +=10]] [[Go to the study for art.|0.12StudyA][$art +=10]] [[Go to the study for acrobatics.|0.12StudyF][$acrobat +=10]] [[Walk among the garden.|0.12Garden][$nature +=10]] <<else>>\ You hear a tweet and glance outside just in time to see a flaxen and chiffon colored bird glide to a small perch below your window. You watch it in envy, longing to switch places with it. How it would feel to fly and sweep through the sky with capable wings. To rid yourself of this place<<if $route_nour>>.<<else>> and the memories and to find yourself … free.<</if>> "Can we go outside?" you question. Nyana'iva thinks over your words before shrugging. "I see no reason why you can't. A stroll around the garden, perhaps?" You nod, and she leaves to allow you to change into clothes more decent. Once ready, the two of you walk down the long winding stairs, down a few halls, and out the door, and onto a path leading to the garden. You are used to the biting chill of the mountain air. Nips across your skin that are negated only by the thick fur coat you possess. This moment especially reminds you of your dimming flame and how everything feels inevitable. One would think that the feeling would push you to stay indoors, but there are far too many positives. Those granite walls smell of sterility when you know far too well that they should be rich in horror. The atrocities that become you have long since settled into them, and their shifting tones have dulled to you. Freedom is no longer in your vocabulary, but a breather or something of the like is. And that is what you crave, a moment of reprieve in an otherwise stodgy existence. Most days are met with the same activities: rise, eat, clean, lessons/free time, eat, sleep. The repetitiveness eats away at your well-being, and all that is left of your spirit. Now, it seems that the only times you feel yourself is when you sleep. When you are able to dream of faraway places and landscapes that you once felt jaded towards. You know not when your flame will forsake you and finally peter out, but you feel like your spirit will fold first. <a data-passage="0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Tower ++''</span><</if>> The bird and the sight beyond it is lovely. But you have been told of how cunning that sight is. You lived and experienced it. You were okay with admiring it for what it was, distant scenery and no more. If you truly missed it then there were other things you could do. Things that did not see you leaving the safety of these walls. "Can we go outside?" you question. Nyana'iva thinks over your words before shrugging. "I see no reason why you can't. A stroll around the garden, perhaps?" You nod, and she leaves to allow you to change into clothes more decent. Once ready, the two of you walk down the long winding stairs, down a few halls, and out the door, and on a path leading to the garden. You were used to the biting chill of the mountain air. Nips across your skin that were negated only by the thick fur coat you possessed. This moment especially reminds you of your dimming flame and how everything feels inevitable. One would think that the feeling would push you to stay indoors, but there were far too many positives. <a data-passage="0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Free ++''</span><</if>> You watch it in envy, longing to switch places with it. How it would feel to fly and sweep through the sky with capable wings. To rid yourself of this place and the memories and to find yourself … free. It was all you ever wanted anymore. To be free of this place if even for a day just to see what the world was like. To experience what it could offer and learn for yourself if it was truly as dark as Watcher Fennore says. "Can we go outside?" you question. Nyana'iva thinks over your words before shrugging. "I see no reason why you can't. A stroll around the garden, perhaps?" You nod, and she leaves to allow you to change into clothes more decent. Once ready, the two of you walk down the long winding stairs, down a few halls, and out the door, and on a path leading to the garden. You were used to the biting chill of the mountain air. Nips across your skin that were negated only by the thick fur coat you possessed. This moment especially reminds you of your dimming flame and how everything feels inevitable. One would think that the feeling would push you to stay indoors, but there were far more positives. Freedom was no longer in your vocabulary, but a breather or something of the like was. And that is what you craved for, a moment of reprieve in an otherwise stodgy existence. Most days were met with the same activities: rise, eat, clean, lessons/free time, eat, sleep. The repetitiveness eats away at your well-being, and all that was left of your spirit. Now, it seems that the only times you felt yourself was when you slept. When you were able to dream of faraway places and landscapes that you feel you once felt jaded towards. You knew not when your own flame would forsake you and finally peter out, but you felt like your spirit would fold first. <a data-passage="0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" Nyana'iva questions<<if $notouchy or $route_ozara>>.<<else>>, touching your arm gently.<</if>> You turn to her, understanding why she had gotten your attention. With a grim nod, you follow her back inside. Your skin celebrates being amongst a warm environment once more, but your soul screams, scraping at a prison you have constructed for it. "Here you are." You glance at the other end of the hall and see two guards and <<if $route_ozara>>Watcher Fennore<<elseif $route_zarik>>and Bane<<else>>a Watcher<</if>> approaching. <<if $route_nour or $route_ruben>>\ In the hierarchy, there is Nyana'iva and the other servants who mostly mind their business. They never look you in the eye and hardly say more than two words to you. If their behavior is anything to go off of, you should believe yourself a terrible affliction that they hope to rid themselves of. Then there are the guards, and though there are few of them, you have long since learned that they are enough to stop any escape attempt. <<if $nosa>>They care little for you as well, never giving you much attention and far more inclined to speak only amongst each other.<<else>>And try as you might to disappear, they feel it their duty to take out their hatred on you. Your brain ceases that thought before it can descend into both madness and darkness, and you school your features.<</if>> But then there are the Watchers. As far as you know, there are only three but they are the authority. They are enforcers and torturers, silent and direct. They influence everything. <<else>>\ You've long since learned the hierarchy of the tower. There is Nyana'iva, your personal servant, and the other servants are kind, in their own way. They don't necessarily treat you as one of their own, but they include you as best they can. They greet you as they pass and smiles are abundant. Through them you receive most of your entertainment, listening to their wild stories and the newest rumors that spark up. Then there are the guards, who care little for you, never giving you much attention and at most, will nod their heads with an ounce of respect to their actions. But then there are the Watchers. As far as you know, there are only three but they hold the authority. They are the enforcers and they influence everything. You know Fennore personally due to her caring for you and taking you under her wing. You have met Watcher Tyrae but only when it comes to daily health checkups, otherwise she keeps to herself. And the other, you can not recall his name nor his face, for you hardly ever come across the man. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="0.13.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_ozara>>\ "Out for a soothing stroll around the gardens, I assume?" she questions nodding at you and then at Nyana'iva. "Watcher Fennore," you and Nyana'iva both greet, bowing with the upper half of your body. Nyana'iva continues, "yes, we were just enjoying the view. Is something the matter?" The Watcher nods to her, offering a friendly smile that you find reaches her eyes. "Nothing to be alarmed by, but I must ask that you take your daily walks off of the itinerary until otherwise told differently." Your eyes widen. [[Ask why.|0.13Why][$timid -=5]] [[Let Nyana’iva handle this.][$timid +=5]] <<elseif $route_ruben>>\ The Watcher standing before you was known as Raznith. Rarely did you ever see him, and when you did, you were glad that he cared little for your existence. The most interaction you have ever shared with the man was a nod, and he returned that with a gruff. You only wish that his guards followed his example. He was in charge of them as far as you know, and his uncaringness extended to his guard's treatment of you. He kept them on an unseeable leash, and they, like rabid animals, took advantage of that. Truthfully, it was the man beside him that truly makes you want to shrivel up and vanish. Laurens. One of Raznith's most trusted guards and the one man who seemed to bask in the ability to abuse you. There was hardly a week that went by where he didn't inflict some kind of vengeance upon you for merely existing. And right now, all you could do was train your gaze to the floor. "Watcher Raznith," Nyana'iva greets, bowing with the upper half of her body, "is something the matter?" He appears bored, as if he could easily name a dozen other things that needed his attention. He answers her candidly, "you are forbidden from going outside until otherwise told." He turns to walk away as your eyes widen. [[Ask why.|0.13Why][$timid -=5; $smart +=5]] [[Let Nyana’iva handle this.][$timid +=5; $smart -=10]] <<else>>\ The watcher before you is known as Tyrae, though that is simply the shortened version of her name. She has introduced herself with her full name, and as quickly as she had said it did she wave it away. You tense, wishing to disappear, especially when her eyes land on you. It is too soon, your body whimpers. She can't possibly have any need for you now, can she? You have become her experiment, an object with a beating heart that can help reach whatever goal and knowledge she seeks to acquire. "Watcher Tyrae," Nyana'iva greets, bowing with the upper half of her body, "is something the matter?" The Watcher does not immediately answer, observing you as if you can answer Nyana'iva's questions yourself. She finally speaks but solely to you, "why are you shivering, my little bird?" "No ... no reason," you respond, not realizing that your body has descended into a fit of trembles. You tell yourself to calm down, and despite your efforts, your body continues on. Her glistening eyes cause you to look away as you swallow the bile rising in your throat. Your heart quaking. Her attention eases itself back onto Nyana'iva, "the Shadow has ordered all servants to stay inside for the time being. Meaning that you must take your daily walks off of the itinerary." Your eyes widen. [[Ask why.|0.13Why][$timid -=5]] [[Let Nyana’iva handle this.][$timid +=5]] <</if>>\
<<if $route_ozara>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> "Why? May I ask?" The Watcher looks surprised by your words, undoubtedly expecting for you to remain quiet. "Why?" she questions with a confused grin, "$name, you know better than to question your superiors. Where are your manners?" She looks to Nyana'iva who begs you to stay quiet with a glance alone. Fennore cocks her head slightly to the side. "Well?" [[“My apologies.”|0.13ApologiesOzara][$charisma +=5; $heart -=5; $timid +=10]] [[“I simply asked why.”][$force +=5; $heart +=5; $timid -=10]] [[Remain quiet.|0.13QuietO][$stealth +=5; $timid +=5]] <<elseif $route_nour>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> "Why? May I ask?" The Watcher looks surprised by your words, undoubtedly expecting for you to remain quiet. "Why? Because the Shadow declared it so." She laughs, glancing at the guards who only smirk. "Is that a problem?" she questions, a placid grin on her face that unnerves you far more than it should. Nyana’iva begs you to stay quiet with a glance, while the guards beg you to respond. [[“I can entertain myself in other ways.”][$charisma +=5; $timid +=10; $spirit -=5]] [[“It is. This place is stuffy.”][$force +=5; $spirit +=10; $timid -=10]] [[Remain quiet.|0.13QuietN][$stealth +=5; $spirit -=10]] <<else>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ | Derisive ++</span><</if>> "Why? May I ask?" The Watcher looks surprised by your words, undoubtedly expecting for you to remain quiet. "Because I said so," he states plainly, his facial expression not shifting even due to your insolence. Nyana’iva begs you to stay quiet with a glance alone, while Laurens and the other guard beg you to respond, "or do you wish to give me your thoughts on the matter?" [[“No, my apologies.”|0.13ApologiesRuben][$charisma +=5; $vigor -=5; $timid +=10; $smart -=10; $dungeon = true]] [[“Would it matter?”][$force +=5; $vigor +=10; $timid -=10; $smart +=5; $dungeon = true]] [[Remain quiet.|0.13QuietR][$stealth +=5; $smart -=10; $vigor -=10]] <</if>>\
<<if $route_ozara>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> Fennore isn't known to hand out punishment directly but that is also due to you having never insulted her to her face. At most, your antics tire her and she chides you on such behavior. Not wishing for today to be the day that you decide to start a new trend, you allow Nyana'iva to lead. <<elseif $ruben_route>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ | Careful ++</span><</if>> Only a few days ago, you had left your cell and was finally brought back to a mundane yet preferable existence. You did not wish to head back there, so you allow Nyana’iva to lead. <<else>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++''</span><</if>> Only a few days ago, you left your cell, finally brought back to a mundane yet preferable existence. You do not wish to head back there, so you allow Nyana’iva to lead. <</if>>\ She questions, "if it is my place to ask, why?" <<if $route_nour>>\ "It is your place, but the details are not," she tells her, sparing you a glance, "$name, how are you feeling?" "Good, Watcher Tyrae," you answer, doing your best to avoid eye contact. "Nothing at all has happened out of the usual?" You shake your head and she hums in thought. Ever since you acquired your sensitivity to touch, she has become far more attentive in what else may spring up. "Nyana'iva? You're both still here?" she questions, and Nyana'iva immediately turns, motioning for you to follow her in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. Her mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<else>>\ "It is your place, but the details are not," <<if $route_ruben>>he<<else>>she<</if>> tells her, sparing you a glance, "neither is the company. Will that be all?" "Yes, thank you." Nyana'iva once again bows before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. <<if $route_ruben>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <</if>>\ <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++ | Mind ++''</span><</if>> "My apologies, Watcher Fennore. I should not have overstepped and it will not happen again." You shrink as her hand comes to rest on your head. "You're forgiven. You just continue to remind me that you are still but a child, learning how the world works. That," she snickers, "and that your lessons must continue. Go." She removes her hand, and you feel a tinge of regret for disappointing her. Nyana'iva whispers for you to follow and you do so without doubt. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Brave ++ | Heart ++''</span><</if>> "I simply asked why," you attempt to explain, wishing only to illustrate your point of view. Though, you do remember the many times Fennore has dissuaded you from doing that. "And you believe yourself in a position where you deserve such answers? You can hardly remember your manners, and yet you're demanding explanations." "No," you start to say, fumbling with your words. "And you still talk back?!" "Forgive us," Nyana'iva begs, putting herself between the two of you and cutting you off from saying more, "we will depart your presence at once. I understand you have more important things to oversee. I will continue $name's etiquette training at once." "See that you do," she grumbles, and though she doesn't dismiss you, her stance warns that it is only wise to leave her presence. Nyana'iva bows a series of times before mumbling for you to follow. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. Her mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++''</span><</if>> You remain quiet even as Fennore's face begins to shift into one of disappointment. "Let us be off, we are so sorry to interrupt your time," Nyana'iva says, bowing apologetically as she steps back. Fennore ignores her, shaking her head as she observes you, "I asked you a question, $name, and you remain quiet. If I was to ask what have you learned in etiquette, what would that be? Because you act as if you are still without valuable knowledge." She gives a nod to Nyana'iva. "Be off then." The servant instantly turns, mumbling for you to follow as Fennore watches your retreating forms. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++ | Apathy ++''</span><</if>> "No. I can find other things to entertain myself with." "Oh, can you now? You must be feeling fine." "I am well," you respond carefully. "Nothing at all has happened out of the usual?" You shake your head and she hums in thought. Ever since you acquired your sensitivity to touch, she has become far more attentive in what else may spring up. "Nyana'iva? You're both still here?" she questions, and Nyana'iva immediately grabs your hand and drags you in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. Her mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Brave ++ | Ardor ++''</span><</if>> Clearing your throat, you nod your head, "it is. This place is stuffy, and going outside is the only way to rid myself of it." The Watcher glances to her side, and one of the guards wordlessly approaches and backhands you. The sting is made worse due to the already sensitive nature of your skin. You clench your eyes closed and suck in a breath. "You seem fairly invigorated to have just been recently removed from the dungeon," the Watcher observes, frowning as she looks into the distance, "perhaps ... Nyana'iva? You're both still here?" she questions, and Nyana'iva immediately grabs your hand and drags you in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. Her mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
You remain quiet and it is not soon after that Tyrae focuses her attention on you. "$name, how are you feeling?" "Good, Watcher Tyrae," you answer, doing your best to avoid eye contact. "Nothing at all has happened out of the usual?" You shake your head and she hums in thought. Ever since you acquired your sensitivity to touch, she has become far more attentive in what else may spring up. "Nyana'iva? You're both still here?" she questions, and Nyana'iva immediately grabs your hand and drags you in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. Her mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++ | Compliant ++ | Careful ++''</span><</if>> <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Raznith did not appreciate your reply. You will face consequences.<</notify>><</if>> "I am sorry, I did not mean anything by my question." "As if I asked for your apology," he responds in disgust, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to Nyana'iva. "Why are you both still here?" Nyana'iva immediately grabs your hand and drags you in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. His mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Brave ++ | Combative ++ | Derisive ++''</span><</if>> <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Raznith did not appreciate your reply. You will face consequences.<</notify>><</if>> Clearing your throat, you ask, "would it mat-" Before you are able to say the entire sentence one of the guards step forward and backhands you. The sting is made worse due to the chill that was still attempting to thaw. You clench your eyes and suck in. "Watch it," the Watcher hisses, "or you will find yourself in a place much darker than that of a lowly cell." His eyes flicker to Nyana'iva, "why are you both still here?" Nyana'iva immediately grabs your hand and drags you in the direction of the study. The Watcher doesn't move, following your retreating form. His mouth set in a grim, impassive line. <<include "0.13.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Compliant ++ | Careful ++''</span><</if>> Due to not knowing Raznith, you were unsure how his reaction would be to your silence. But you felt that holding your tongue was far wiser than anything else. You're still thinking about what he may do when he turns on his heels and walks off, obviously done with the conversation. His two guards follow as well, and with that, Nyana'iva grabs you and pulls you in the opposite direction and towards the study. <<include "0.13.1">>
You glance over at Nyana'iva, who still seems far too stuck in her own mind. Her mouth is moving, but nothing comes out. "Have you truly not heard anything?" It takes her a minute to realize you are speaking to her and, after repeating what you said, shakes her head. She gives herself away by biting her bottom lip and then avoiding your gaze. [[Persuade her to say.][$charisma +=5]] [[Trick her into answering.][$stealth +=5]] [[Apply pressure.][$force +=5]]
“Please, Nyana’iva,” you implore,<<if $notouchy is false or $route_ozara is false>> lightly touching her arm,<</if>> “I don’t need to know, but this does affect something that I look forward to. Now I must stay in this stuffy tower from daybreak to fall. Would you not at least want to know why as well?” She blinks and then nods, sighing as she turns to you, “I overheard a few of the servants discussing the rousing of some of the houses. I don’t exactly know what that means. Some fear that it may all lead to yet another war. None of them even know what caused it or why. That is all I know.” You smile, “thank you.” <<if $route_nour>>For a moment, you believe you see the Nyana'iva that you could have had. The one that cared to know and understand you. But it lasts only a moment and you feel all your thoughts shatter as she glances away and continues on. <<if $positive >=50>>Years, you remind yourself. Hope is such a foolish thing to possess.<<else>>Thankfully, the feeling is fleeting. And you move on just as she did.<</if>><<else>>She clears her throat and motions for you to continue following her to the study.<</if>> <<include "0.13.2">>
You run through how you should approach this. Force would be coming on too strong, and she was likely to clam up. Trying to be friendly and appealing to her was far better, but she would be aware of everything she was saying, giving you the information she wished to recount. Tricking her was wise but risky as one slip up could yield nothing. You vaguely recall hearing the kitchen servants talking about a change and increase in the guards. It was a weak starting point but a starting point regardless. “I wonder if it has anything to do with the increase in guards.” “You heard about that?” Nyana’iva queries. “Yes. I also heard them discussing their new changes while in the dungeon.” “Even they are experiencing shifts?” she ponders aloud, “I thought it was only the sentinels and those that patrol.” “It could be due to the dungeon guards having more experience than those they are bringing in.” You have no clue what you were discussing, but you understood one crucial thing, servants loved to gossip. Nyana’iva was your personal servant and was not around the others as much, but that hardly canceled her out. "I doubt having inexperienced dungeon guards who are far more used to just surveying would be any help if there is truly war to be had amongst the houses again. Then again, all swords are needed to defend." "Perhaps," you state, ending the conversation there. So that’s why you could no longer step outside. They believe war to be once again upon all of you. <<include "0.13.2">>
"Nyana’iva," you growl, <<if $route_nour or $route_ozara>>stepping in her way so that she has no choice but to meet you.<<else>>grabbing her arm and pushing her against the wall.<</if>> <<if $height is "very short" or $height is "short">>Due to your height, the position is awkward and your grip on her arm wavers. You can easily picture her fighting you off but she refrains. "Answer the question, now."<<elseif $height is "average">>She doesn’t appear happy about the predicament, but neither does she seem surprised. "Answer the question, now."<<else>>She tilts her head up at you and frowns, unhappy about the situation but not surprised. "Answer the question, now."<</if>> She glances away, refusing to make eye contact as she speaks, "I simply overheard a few of the servants discussing the rousing of some of the houses. I don’t exactly know what that means. Some fear that it may all lead to yet another war." <<if $route_nour or $route_ozara>>She straightens herself,<<else>>Harshly swatting your hand away, she straightens herself,<</if>> "now, if you don’t mind. We should get to the study." <<include "0.13.2">>
<<if $route_nour>>You vaguely remember the war, most of it nothing more than flashing images with a few facts mingled within. You knew that House Great Stag was eliminated, extinct, and that House Griffin and Basilisk were thriving.<<else>>It concluded when you were a child, and you vaguely remember it. You knew that House Great Stag was eliminated, extinct. House Griffin and Basilisk were thriving while Dragon and Pegasus were steps away from meeting the same fate as the Stags.<</if>> But that is all. You cannot say why nor who now holds all the power. And personally, you don't wish to think about it. For such thoughts then bring your own House into question, if you can still claim it to be yours anyway. You had been told of the deal that was made between your parents and whoever led this place, the Shadow, from what everyone would whisper. <<if $route_nour>>Watcher Tyrae uses it as a fun quip to taunt you, and other times to test your memory. She enjoyed laughing about your misfortune, and it only seems to please her the more you seem to forget your past.<<else>>The Watchers confirmed, <<if $route_ruben>>and one of them was all too happy to laugh in your face regarding your misfortune.<<else>> or more so Fennore did. She had answered the questions that you had posed to her, letting you know the truth.<</if>><</if>> <<if $route_ozara>>"They simply wished to get rid of you, my dear," she had said, watching you with a sympathetic gaze, "they saw something to discard and that is what they did."<<else>>"They sold you!" she chortled at the time, "the entire thing a well-planned ambush to remove you from the picture. For who wants a disgrace as the next figurehead of their House?"<</if>> [[Control your anger.][$anger +=5]] [[Clench your eyes closed.][$sad +=5]] [[Continue on, unfazed.][$numb +=5]]
You ball up your fists, your nails digging into your palm as you hold back the anger that typically sees no restraint. You hate them for it. Hate that instead of seeing you as their child, they see a burden to do away with. You were broken and dying, and that was enough for them. You were no longer the heir they wished for you to be. But more importantly, you were no longer their child. <<if $route_ozara>>A sudden rush of heat causes you to jerk, and you realize that the sudden emotion has called upon your fire. Quickly, you extinguish it, eyes wide and hoping that no one has seen such an embarrassing mistake. Nyava'iva shows no sign, and though you do not immediately calm down, you manage it by the time you get to the study.<</if>> <<include "0.13.3">>
You must close your eyes and bite your bottom lip as you tell yourself to keep your emotions in check. You have cried one too many times about your fate and how quickly your parents had given you away. Vague memories of revolted faces and spurious promises plague your mind. Were you not to be loved regardless of what became of you? Of your deficiencies and flaws? <<if $route_ozara>>A sudden rush of heat causes you to jerk, and you realize that the sudden emotion has called upon your fire. Quickly, you extinguish it, eyes wide and hoping that no one has seen such an embarrassing mistake. Nyava'iva shows no sign, and though you do not immediately calm down, you manage it by the time you get to the study.<</if>> <<include "0.13.3">>
You continue on as if your mind hadn’t just gone to such a grim place. A thought that continues to plague you at ill-chosen moments. The thing was, you had no more emotions to spare. Your feelings were like that which surrounds you, barren icy mounds with no signs of life. Only a harsh wind that would faithfully come by to make sure that all were buried beneath piles of snow. They cared none for you, and you cared none for them. <<include "0.13.3">>
You enter the spacious study, taking in the only room you see as much as your quarters. It is warm and inviting, with generous splashes of colors resting against the umber stone. Further ahead was a large enough area for one to stretch and do other workout-related activities, and to the right of that, a smaller space held numerous instruments. The entire left side of the study was filled with tables and walls of books. Though the shelves were tall, not each was filled with books. You assume that keeping a stocked shelf with such a strict collection is complicated. <<if $route_nour>>Nyana'iva spares you a look before walking to the side, allowing you to do what you wish.<<else>>"What will you do?" Nyana'iva asks.<</if>> [[Check out some of the astrology books.][$stars +=10]] [[Practice with some instruments.][$music +=10]] [[Study some fauna and flora based books.][$nature +=10]] [[Stretch and do some acrobatics.][$acrobat +=10]] [[Finish one of your art pieces.][$art +=10]]
<<if $stars is 30>>\ Gathering a few books that you hadn't looked through, you take a seat at the table. <<if $route_nour is false>>\ "Do not forget this one as well," Nyana'iva inserts, handing you a thin dark book, "it's about the constellations that I told you about." You thank her, pushing the others away to check this one out. <</if>>\ Inside they detail the many stars and where they were in the sky. You glance towards the window, wishing to walk outside to attempt to find these very stars. If tonight was clear, then you may be able to view some of these. Unfortunately, you were not allowed out. You suppose it matters little. You had already seen the signs of an incoming blizzard. <<else>>\ You gather a few of the books and begin to flip through them, reading up on astral bodies and the broad topic of the stars. Though you could not yet wrap your head around how it was done, you learn that the stars could be used to navigate and that certain ones held names and stories. You continue to read. <</if>>\ <<if $route_makaio>><a data-passage="M0.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><<else>><a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><</if>>
<<if $music is 30>>\ You wouldn't call yourself a master, especially since Nyana'iva wouldn't call herself such, and you still did not know as many instruments as she. But that is not to say that you don't have an outstanding talent. You know the lute, able to play it with ease, and graduated from the phase of having to receive instruction from Nyana'iva. You also learned how to play the flute and found doing so to be great fun. Though you can spin and dance with the lute, the flute allows greater mobility and the cheerful shrill tones make your need to dance all the greater. Today, you wish to continue learning the most formidable instrument thus far, the goctu. It is similar to the flute due to its shared family, both existing in the woodwinds. The difference is that the goctu is played downwards at an angle that you find foreign, and its holes exist near the base and then further down towards the end. It can hit the same notes as the flute with the addition of much lower registers. In the end, it creats an almost sullen, melancholy tune that reminds you of stormy nights and dark, wistful tales. <<if $route_nour>>In the beginning, you had Nyana'iva's help. But now, she simply looks on and you must receive your instruction through books and by ear alone.<<else>>With Nyana'iva's help, you continue to learn it, feeling satisfied by the time you put an end to the lessons.<</if>> <<else>>\ <<if $route_nour>>\ Learning to play one of the instruments has been something you continuously put off. Even more now that you will have to navigate such a challenging road alone. In the end, you choose the lute, sitting down away from Nyana'iva with a book that holds basic instructions. Your time is spent mostly learning the hand placements, how to tune, and how to avoid breaking the strings. <<else>>\ Learning to play one of the instruments has been something you continuously put off. More so because you much rather listen to Nyana'iva play than awkwardly make your way around the strings and surfaces of the various instruments to choose from. In the end, you choose the lute, sitting down across from Nyana'iva as she shows you where to place your hands and how to hold it. Your time was spent mostly learning the hand placements, how to tune, and how to avoid breaking the strings. Once your mind can take no more, you pass it over to Nyana'iva, sitting back and watching as she plays. The beautiful melody filling your ears and the room with its hypnotic tune. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $route_makaio>><a data-passage="M0.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><<else>><a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><</if>>
<<if $nature is 30>>\ You gather some of the fauna and flora books, glancing over at the diminished collection and wishing for one about poisons. You understand why there was no such thing, but after learning so much about specific plants, the topic was bound to come up. Only from what you read in the books you did have in your possession did you know about individual poisonous plants and what was edible, facts you would perhaps never need. At best, you would be able to use the knowledge to keep an eye on what the kitchen staff brought in. Also, you learned about the fauna — the territorial beasts as well as those that were docile. Since being here, you have not yet seen any creatures besides the occasional bird, but even they were rare. Though you had once thought that wasn't strange, the more you learned, the more it dawned on you that every area had native populations. So, where was this one? <<if $route_nour or $route_ruben>>Did your captors clear it out and keep it as such? It was a question that would receive no answer.<<else>>The best you could guess was that they rest on the outskirts of the mountains. Either that or they just didn't exist.<</if>> <<else>>\ Due to the limited information, you had never gotten into the ecology study. Flora and fauna were interesting, but at most, you would only be able to use that information to name the occasional bird that flits by or the flowers and vegetables in the garden. You suppose that was sufficient. Especially seeing that your earlier years were spent in confusion about how anything could grow in such harsh conditions. Refusing to let the trivialness of the information get to you, you read. By the time you close the book, you have learned a few things but nothing that precisely excited or jumped out at you. <</if>>\ <<if $route_makaio>><a data-passage="M0.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><<else>><a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><</if>>
<<if $acrobat is 30>>\ You typically do acrobatics in your spare time, and so this isn’t new to you. Heading over to the mats, you take your time stretching and warming yourself up as much as you can. After that, the routine begins. A series of flips and cartwheels before working up to more advanced moves. You get carried away, pushing yourself further than you’ve done in the past. You can hear Nyana’iva shrieking whenever you do particular flips. When attempting to test your entire body by scaling the stone wall, Nyana’iva has had enough and begs you to stop. <<else>>\ You usually did other things; exercising and performing stunts had never been interesting. But perhaps you should pay more attention to it. Not only would it allow you to burn off restless energy, but it also could help strengthen you for the future. <<if $route_nour or $route_ruben>>It is a shame that your mind immediately goes to the cell. But a stronger body can aid with a healthier mind.<</if>> Shaking that thought away, you begin to stretch and practice with beginner flips. You don’t wish to strain your muscles, but by the time you’re done, it matters none. You can feel the soreness and fatigue set in. The next day will probably be worse. <</if>>\ <<if $route_makaio>><a data-passage="M0.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><<else>><a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><</if>>
<<if $art is 30>>\ There are a few art pieces left unfinished, most being landscape or purposely blurred images of those walking about the tower. Once, you attempted to paint the turmoil inside of you, but … well, you try not to reminisce about how much that painting hurt when it was completed. It felt as if you had transferred all of your inner troubles to the canvas, but at the same time, you felt guilty for placing your weight on its fragile linen surface. In the end, you kept it but buried it deep within your closet to never look upon again. Ignoring that, you grab one of the paintings that you had begun of the garden. It is lively, and you are thankful for the patient birds that fluttered through and decided to stick around long enough for you to sketch them. Due to your mainly white foreground, you ran out of the paint and, instead of using another color, decided to wait until it could be resupplied. Thankfully all of the paint has been adequately restocked. You vanish into the work, hearing the birds calling you and the wind that decides that only in the garden will it temper its furor. When you finish, you are left with a bittersweet feeling as you move it to the side to draw. Completing it provides you with relief while also reminding you that it is but another painting that will never be graced by curious eyes. <<else>>\ This isn't the first time you decided to focus on drawing, but it is the first time in a long time. The last painting you completed was your attempt at transferring your inner turmoil to canvas, and though it did its job, it filled you with a cold chill that you have only recently recovered from. Taking a break from art seemed like the best course, but you have found yourself missing the activity. You grab a brush and one of the spare canvases and though you have a decent idea of what you wish to draw, what comes out on the canvas is less than that. Your strokes can use work, and that isn't even taking into consideration the detail and shading. But it isn't awful. Another painting or two and a lot of dedication will see improvement. You're sure of it. <</if>>\ <<if $route_makaio>><a data-passage="M0.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><<else>><a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a><</if>>
<<if $route_nour>>\ The day comes to an end, and just like any other, Nyana'iva escorts you to your room. Both of you pausing when you notice four guards standing before your door. You recognize none of them as the guards who typically watch over your room. A pit opens in your stomach as realization overcomes you. "You are excused," one of the guards says to Nyana'iva, taking a step closer. Nyana'iva closes her eyes and avoids your gaze, bowing in respect before darting off. <<if $positive >=50>>Part of you had hoped she would stay. That she would say something to dissuade them from taking you. Perhaps fruitless, but it only deepens the hole within you.<<else>>You watch as she goes. A tinge of jealousy speeds through you, wanting to disappear just as quickly and avoid what is about to befall you.<</if>> "Watcher Tyrae has asked us to bring you," the guard from earlier informs you, "and to remind you how you are expected to behave in the presence of your superiors." You shrink in fear at their words, but even more at the idea of being brough to Tyrae. [[Comply with what they ask of you.][$timid +=10; $spirit -=5]] [[Resist them. ::Trigger Warning:: This choice will lead to content involving physical abuse.|14ResistThem][$timid -=10; $bruises = true; $spirit +=5]] <<elseif $dungeon>>\ The day comes to an end, and just like any other, Nyana'iva walks you to your room. Both of you pausing when you notice four guards standing before your door. Only one do you recognize, the one known as Laurens. The vulgar smirk that rests across his lips, letting you know why he was there and causes a pit to open in your stomach as realization overcomes you. "You are excused," one of the guards says to Nyana'iva, taking a step closer, and the others follow. Nyana'iva closes her eyes and avoids your gaze, bowing in respect before darting off. A tinge of jealousy speeds through you, wanting to disappear just as quickly and avoid what was about to befall you. "You will be escorted to the -," the guard from earlier informs you but is interrupted by Laurens, the guard you recognize. The one guard you wished would disappear. "All of you can excuse yourselves," he smirks, nodding his appreciation to the lead guard who simply appears tired, "we both know you and the others have things you much rather do. I shall take care of Phoenix." "I care none," the guard sighs, waving his hand dismissively, "just remember not to damage the bird." With that pathetic warning given, the three guards depart, and Laurens approaches. <<if $nosa>>\ [[Comply and endure. ::Trigger Warning:: This choice will lead to content involving physical abuse.|RDungeonComply][$timid +=10; $vigor -=5; $smart -=5]] [[Make a run for the room. ::Trigger Warning:: This choice will lead to content involving physical abuse.|RDungeonRunForIt][$timid -=10; $vigor +=5; $smart +=5]] <<else>>\ [[Comply and endure. ::Trigger Warning:: This choice will lead to content involving physical and sexual abuse.|RDungeonComply][$timid +=10; $vigor -=5; $smart -=5]] [[Make a run for the room. ::Trigger Warning:: This choice will lead to content involving physical and sexual abuse.|RDungeonRunForIt][$timid -=10; $vigor +=5; $smart +=5]] <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $route_zarik>>The day comes to an end and you walk to your room, rethinking all that Bane has said. If you were tired before, you no longer are. You retire with a mind still searching for meaning and reason. And like every night, you digress with the understanding that tomorrow will be the same as today. And the day after that, the same as the last. Soon, you are always told. But what importance does a word like that carry and is it even wise to look forward to an unclear future with heavy expectations crushing your back?<<else>>The day comes to an end, and just like any other, Nyana’iva walks you to your room. And, similar to all the others, you are not tired. You retire with a mind still searching for meaning and a soul still clinging to some kind of future that wasn’t this. And like every night, you digress with the understanding that tomorrow will be the same as today. And the day after that, the same as the last.<</if>> <<if $art is 20>>You grab your sketchbook and light a nearby candle. You are unsure what you will sketch and so you just let your hand and pencil dance across the page. A shape begins to appear but your eyes begin to flutter closed and though you fight it, you are not successful.<<elseif $stars is 20>>You grab your astrology book and notebook, one whose pages are still predominantly empty but has grown since you first received it. You begin to add detailing to the stars and check for shifting constellations. You sit on the ottoman and begin to go through what you have, flipping through the pages as sleep whisks you away.<<elseif $music is 20>>You grab the guitar that you keep in your room, humming a tune and strumming a tune. You were never much of a singer, but a musician you were. You play a berceuse, allowing it to put you to sleep.<<else>>You grab a pamphlet and settle down with it. Allowing the words of stories from another time to whisk you to sleep.<</if>> You awake with a start, your mind catching up to a body now on alert. The world outside the lone window in your room is dark; incandescent stars glimmer clearly against a never-ending canvas. You can hear the usual whirring of the wind. Blinking a few more times to get your bearings, you find that you have fallen asleep on the ottoman, not the worst place to retire but silly when a bed rests only a few feet away. You stand when you hear a loud thud. Originating from the other side of your door, you listen to it again. You wait, but you don't hear it a third time. There is no reason for there to be guards outside your door. Something shifts and folds in your stomach. Some foreign feeling whose voice is hoarse from disuse telling you to be cautious. [[Approach the door.|0.14ApproachDoor][$timid -=10]] [[Stay in the room.|0.14StayInRoom][$timid +=10]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ | Apathy ++</span><</if>> You nod, bowing your head so that your gaze is trained on the ground. The lead guard grabs your wrist. Their touch feels like poison, sizzling against your skin and causing you to bite down on your tongue. If you make any sound, they may treat you far more severely. They are not known for their patience and empathy. You have grown used to suppressing such pain to avoid targeting, but that does not mean the pain has become tolerable. <a data-passage="0.14.1Dungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ | Ardor ++</span><</if>> The idea is silly. But fear is both a powerful ally and enemy when awakened. At this moment, it's your enemy. It is far too early. The fear of being underneath Tyrae's malicious gaze and back in the cell spurs you on. Your feet are the first to move, pivoting as you turn your body and lunge away from the guards. You make it a few steps before one catches your shirt and slings you into the wall, grabbing ahold of your wrists. You release a pained scream. Everything begins to hurt, the feeling of something pressed against your skin feels like it awakens whatever rests beneath it, and it tears in anger at the barrier keeping it from freedom. There are times where you can suppress the pain to avoid further targeting, but then there are times where something greater leads your actions. Another scream wishes to part from your lips but the sound never comes as something hard hits you in the face. You find yourself now on the floor, dazed and seeing stars just as you feel something much harder than before make contact with your body. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>Your insides roar in rage, caged but attempting to rip said constraints away. You want nothing more than to fight back, to punish them for everything they have done and will do. But that doesn't mean you can. Your energy is fleeting and despite this fury, your mind is beginning to turn away. It turns to the pain that has yet to cease, shushing it as if it as an infant needing care.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>You whimper, feeling the encroaching darkness that cackles with malefic intentions. Attempting to negate some of the strikes that fall upon you, you curl into a ball but those assaulting you do not care.<<else>>You protect the more important parts of your body but otherwise, you do nothing more. At most, your heart mourns and your soul flutters to the ground, its strength depleted and no longer knowing what it feels like to soar. Your mind turns away, placing attention on pain that has yet to cease, shushing it as if it as an infant needing care.<</if>> "Fucking drag this rat to Tyrae," one of the guards shout. <a data-passage="0.14.2Dungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>>\<<notify 5s>>You stood up for Nyana'iva. She will not forget this kindness.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ | Guilt ++</span><</if>> "No," you shout, placing yourself between the encroaching guards and Nyana'iva's accepting form, "they were my actions. I will go in her stead." She raises her bent head and stares on in confusion while the guards glance at one another, seeming to discuss with expressions alone if such thing was allowed. They shake their head, "that will be going against orders," the guard informs you. They grab Nyana'iva arms and though you are ready to fight she stops you with a small nod of thanks. "It shall be fine." Your brows crinkle at her words. She made it sound as if it wasn't the first time this has happened, and her expression backs up such a claim. You are unable to ask if this is so as she is pulled away and with nothing more to do on your part, you go into your room. You ponder what her punishment would be. Would it even be severe, or would she simply have to spend a night in the dungeons? How would they treat her? She was one of their own, and though discipline was frequent here, you found it hard to picture them abusing one who was on their side. Wishing to get your mind off of whatever fate Nyana'iva would face, you grab a pamphlet and settle down with it. Allowing the words of stories from another time to whisk you to sleep. <a data-passage="OR1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>>\<<notify 5s>>You left Nyana'iva to take the punishment. She will not forget your actions.<</notify>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ | Innocent ++</span><</if>> They said that this was Nyana'iva's weight to shoulder, and you were not going to disagree or intervene. Copying her actions from earlier, you hurry into your room, closing the door behind you as you hear the shuffling of their feet grow faint. You ponder what her punishment would be. Would it even be severe, or would she simply have to spend a night in the dungeons? How would they treat her? She was one of their own, and though discipline was frequent here, you found it hard to picture them abusing one who was on their side. Wishing to get your mind off of whatever fate Nyana'iva would face, you grab a pamphlet and settle down with it. Allowing the words of stories from another time to whisk you to sleep. <a data-passage="OR1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You awake with a start, your mind catching up to a body that was now on alert. Did the guards come back to punish you for your brazen words from earlier? Was it Fennore wishing to speak to you? The world outside the lone window in your room is dark; incandescent stars glimmer clearly against a never-ending canvas. You can hear the usual whirring of the wind. Blinking a few more times to get your bearings, you find that you have fallen asleep on the ottoman, not the worst place to retire but silly when a bed rests only a few feet away. You stand when you hear a loud thud. Originating from the other side of your door, you listen to it again. You wait, but you don't hear it a third time. Perhaps one of the guards had fallen asleep and hit the door, stumbling to right himself? It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion, and yet, something shifts and folds in your stomach. Some foreign feeling whose voice was hoarse from disuse was telling you to be cautious. [[Approach the door.][$timid -=3]] [[Stay in the room.][$timid +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++ | Compliant ++ | Careful ++</span><</if>> "Once again, we're alone little birdie," Laurens points out, gazing around as if you weren't aware of such development. You stay quiet and still, though your mind scolds you for even believing that such action will mollify his need for both your blood and agony. <<if $nosa>>\ He yanks you closer, placing his hand around your throat and applying the slightest amount of pressure, "look at me when I speak to you." You do. Steeling your facial expressions and adopting a blank look into your eye. "Let's go you dirty winged-rat," he sneers and drags you down the hallway and stairs, past onlooking servants who simply gaze away, behaving as if the sight passing by was nonexistent. You remember the first times this happened, how you implored them to act. <<if $positive >=50>>Your heart had never caved in as much as it did that time, your thoughts on goodwill and the power of empathy forever shifted.<<else>>Never again. Never again did you look to them. You weren't foolish enough to set yourself up for even more disappointment.<</if>> <<else>>\ He grabs your wrist and yanks you closer, trailing a dirty fingernail down your face with a wicked smirk, "you got in trouble because you missed me, huh?" You glance away and he back hands you, "look at me when I speak to you." You do. Steeling your facial expressions and adopting a blank look into your eye. "You missed this." He pushes himself against you, digging his nails into your side, he sneers, "but do you think a dirty ass winged-rat like yourself deserve anything?" A hand squeezes your wrist as his lips touch your cheek, biting you and pulling out a whimper. The wish to depart your body, to venture snowy fields and long drawn out grassy plains comes to mind. You would be back later, to put back the pieces of a body that was more of a shell now than anything else. His grip tightens and you yelp, unable to keep such a sound in. He sneers and drags you down the hallway and stairs, past onlooking servants who simply gaze away, behaving as if the sight passing by was nonexistent. You remember the first times this happened, how you implored them to act. <<if $positive >=50>>Your heart had never caved in as much as it did that time, your thoughts on goodwill and the power of empathy forever shifted.<<else>>Never again. Never again did you look to them. You weren't foolish enough to set yourself up for even more disappointment.<</if>> <</if>>\ Your trip comes to an end once you reach the dungeons, and he closes the door of the cell behind the two of you before turning to face you. "Let's play a game." He holds up a whip and smirks gleefully, "let's see how fast you can shift into that meak form of yours." <a data-passage="0.14.3Dungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++ | Combative ++ | Derisive ++</span><</if>> You gulp, deciding to put your mind to better uses like gauging the distance that rests between you and your room. If you can get past Laurens then you will be safe. You doubt the other guards will turn around to help and Laurens is not crazed enough to break the door down. Your room, your sanctuary, is the best way to get out of this. Tomorrow will present new problems but that is not a luxury you have. Waiting for the opportunity to present itself, you dart towards your room once it appears. It looms closer and your heart explodes in glee right as a violent force knocks you into the wall. Lying dazed on the ground, you fight to right and align the world. A hand closes around your neck, squeezing vehemently and causing you to splutter, clawing at air. <<if $nosa>>\ "Did my little birdie really think ?she'd get away?" He sighs and tightens his grip, your struggles becoming more violent as you plead for air. "One of these days I'll see that pathetic thing you call life finally be snuffed out. I just hope I'm the one who extinguishes it. You're disgusting." <<else>>\ "Did my little birdie really think ?she'd get away?" He sighs and tightens his grip, your struggles becoming more violent as you plead for air. Laurens moves closer, pressing his body close against your own as he whispers, "one of these days I'll see that pathetic thing you call life finally be snuffed out. I just hope I'm the one who extinguishes it." He runs his fingers up your side, venturing your chest before pulling his hand back. "You're disgusting." <</if>>\ He releases your neck and you fall to the floor, your fingers curling as you cough and greedily take in every bit of air that you can. Five gulps later and you're back on your feet, being dragged down the hallway and stairs, past onlooking servants who simply gaze away, behaving as if the sight passing by is nonexistent. You remember the first few times this happened, how you implored them to act. Your heart has never caved in as much as it did that time, your thoughts on goodwill and the power of empathy forever shifted. Laurens drags you to the dungeons, closing the door of the cell behind the two of you before turning to face you. "Let's play a game." He holds up his favorite barbed whip and smirks gleefully, "let's see how fast you can shift into that meek form of yours." <a data-passage="0.14.3Dungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The guards drag you into Tyrae's lab, one of the only places that you know by heart. You'd even go as far as to say that you can navigate it perfectly while blinded. Besides the dungeon and your room, you spend most of your time here. But the dungeon, even with all its horrors, fail to match the barbarities committed here. They place you on the examination table and secure the straps before leaving, mumbling as they go. "Ah, you're here," Tyrae points out as she enters, twirling the contents of a familiar vial around. "Since you have obviously recuperated since our last session ..." She pauses as she writes something down, "whether that is because your tolerance shifted significantly or simply because I switched the amount in the doses is not genuinely known." She sighs, wiping at her brow and activating her magical orb, a tool that she refers to as a mimic. <a data-passage="0.14NDungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The guards drag you into Tyrae's lab, one of the only places that you know by heart. You'd even go as far as to say that you can navigate it perfectly while blinded. Besides the dungeon and your room, you spend most of your time here. But the dungeon, even with all its horrors, fail to match the barbarities committed here. They throw you onto the examination table, and you spit out a wad of accumulated blood. Tyrae won't have to do much, seeing that your consciousness is already going in and out. "The fucking brat bit me," one of the guard's bark, landing an additional punch to your face. You strain to remember how many times you've been hit and exactly where the pain is coming from. Your entire body is sore yet in pain and a reprieve is all you pray for. Harshly, they grab your ankles and wrists, securing them to the table. "Enough," Tyrae shouts as she walks in, "what have I said about touching ?him?" One of the guards move to answer but Tyrae lashes out, slapping them hard enough to cause them to stagger backwards. The others bristle, their gazes on the ground as they stand in fear at what she may do next. "Did I ask you to speak?" she inquires through gritted teeth, "leave now before each of you becomes my next subject." Your eyes flutter open just in time to see the last guard scurrying out and Tyrae approaching with a familiar vial. "Since you have obviously recuperated since our last session ..." She pauses as she writes something down, "whether that is because your tolerance shifted significantly or simply because I switched the amount in the doses is not genuinely known." She sighs, wiping at her brow and activating her magical orb, a tool that she refers to as a mimic. <a data-passage="0.14NDungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//One lash.// You grit your teeth as the barbed, leather material finds purchase on your body, clinging to whatever it wishes to and only releasing when Laurens yanks hard enough. Each time you try and focus on the action of shifting, your mind flees back to the suffering that the strike of the whip causes, causing you to start the process all over again. //Two lashes. Three.// Nature is against you as well, the wind rushing in through the elevated window and numbing the already frigid stones. Each stumble causes a stinging sensation to speed through you, causing you to clench your teeth more each time. //The fourth lash then the fifth.// Laurens laughs as he watches you dance, attempting to evade the whip and failing. "Turn! You're a phaizarn, right? Shift!" For a second, you allow the whip to meet your skin, ignoring the pain and placing all of your attention on the action. Nothing. No, no, no. Something isn't right. You've never had a problem with this before. This isn't the first time he's forced you to shift under extreme duress, and though each moment is seared in your brain, in the end the deed was accomplished. "I said shift!" The whip grazes a fresh cut and you hiss at the pain, falling to your knees. You are down and the idea of rising doesn't seem like a possibility. [[Just lay there.|RDungeonLayThere][$stealth +=5; $numb +=3]] [[Plead for him to stop.|RDungeonPleadStop][$charisma +=5; $sad +=3]] [[Try and push him away.|RDungeonPushAway][$force +=5; $anger +=3]]
"91 Monsuna. Day 56. Increasing the Cabodizem has not seemed to deter the health of Subject 0, and though the medication has shown significant results, it seems that the dosage is too high to sustain other subjects." "The touch aversion symptom, has it remained the same?" You close your eyes, your brain weighing the consequences of not answering. Yet, this is nothing new. Perhaps that is why Tyrae waits and does not hurry you along. It has become routine, she asks and you ponder before inevitably agreeing that silence will get you nowhere. "Yes." "Do be more specific." "I only feel pain by the hands of others. Objects and even my own touches do nothing to aggravate the symptom. Clothing does little but it does provide a moderate buffer." "Noted for the logs." She huffs before coming to the side of the table, lifting your head just high enough to pour the vial's contents down your throat. Part of you wishes to shy away from the liquid, hating what will soon ensue. But another part of you laps it up, savoring every drop. The pain will come, but the sensation after that is one of bliss. It will bring a moment of pause from that which rests beneath your skin. A long enough moment to escape the horrors of your life, a moment where your fear of touch is chased away. You have learned to crave it, a ravenous hunger for that specific feeling. You covet it, and it will soon be upon you. "Subject 0 has now just consumed Chib Shaww B.42, increased Bacxane Virenz. If past observations have shown anything," she trails off. It's not due to her performing the action but your conscious slipping. It burns. Your insides and mind scream while your body hums in satisfaction. You once believed that over time, this feeling would die. That the pain would subside, and you would no longer find yourself gasping for air and craving death all at once. This has not been true. <a data-passage="0.14.0NDungeon"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Cognizance comes back to you, and when it does, you're unsurprised to see yourself back where you started. The cold metal shackles dig into your wrist, and judging from the strain of your arms, you have been hanging for at least thirty minutes. But there is no pain from the shackles touching your skin. And for that, you thank the High Gods. Your eyes begin to close. For now, your body is at peace, and sleep may take you willingly. The feeling almost makes you cry joyfully at how light and carefree you feel. It is such a stark contrast to your surroundings, but you find yourself possessing little care. You blink. A distant sound catching your attention as your senses start to awaken and the world and your circumstance comes back to you. You hear it again, the strange noise that sounds like it comes from directly above you. Following it is the sound of a heavy thud, and then another. Silence sets in and just as you believe it to be your mind playing tricks on you due to circumstance, you hear a scream. But it isn't some playful scream that you have heard in the past, or even shocked where one of the cooks or servants have accidentally spilled something. This scream is harrowing. The sound of someone who chose that to be the last sound that they will ever make. Perhaps your heart wouldn't thump so frantically if you heard more noise following it, another scream or another harsh impact against the wall or floor. What follows is silence, a heavy and ominous one that stills even the rebellious wind. Your eyes widen when you hear the rusty sound of the dungeon door opening. [[Stay as still as possible.|NDungeonStayStill][$stealth +=5]] [[Ask who is there.|NDungeonWhoThere][$charisma +=5]] [[Try to get out of this.|NDungeonTryGetOut][$force +=5]]
You remain there, silencing the world around you and growing numb to the pain that befalls you. You blink. A distant sound catching your attention as your senses awaken and the world and your circumstance comes back to you. You don't know when Laurens left or when the aches of the pain became superficial groans. You don't remember when you had fallen asleep or when Laurens had managed to fasten you to the chains. And frankly, you're quite happy to have missed all of this. You hear it again, the strange noise that sounds like it comes from directly above you. Following it is the sound of a heavy thud, and then another. Silence sets in, and just as you believe it to be your mind playing tricks on you due to circumstance, you hear a scream. But it isn't some playful scream that you have listened to in the past or even a shocked one that tells you an accident has taken place. This scream is harrowing, the sound of someone who chooses that to be the last sound they ever make. Perhaps your heart wouldn't thump so frantically if you had heard more noise following that, another scream or another harsh impact against the wall or floor. But what follows is silence, a heavy and ominous one that stills even the rebellious wind. Your eyes widen when you hear the rusty sound of the dungeon opening and soon, an unrecognizable figure standing in front of your cell. <a data-passage="0.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You cry out, knowing that sometimes Laurens rage can be brought to an end quicker if his ego is filled or when he is disgusted. Vomiting perhaps wouldn't be such a hard thing to do, especially if you continue to add pressure to your stomach and focus on the muscles in your throat. When your begging does nothing to stop him, you do that, the contents rushing from you swiftly. "You disgusting maggot!" you hear him shout but then nothing. You neither feel nor see anything: nothing but blackness. You blink. A distant sound catching your attention as your senses awaken and the world and your circumstance comes back to you. You don't know when Laurens left or when the aches of the pain became superficial groans. You don't remember when you had fallen asleep or when Laurens had managed to fasten you to the chains. And frankly, you're quite happy to have missed all of this. You hear it again, the strange noise that sounds like it comes from directly above you. Following it is the sound of a heavy thud, and then another. Silence sets in, and just as you believe it to be your mind playing tricks on you due to circumstance, you hear a scream. But it isn't some playful scream that you have listened to in the past or even a shocked one that tells you an accident has taken place. This scream is harrowing, the sound of someone who chooses that to be the last sound they ever make. Perhaps your heart wouldn't thump so frantically if you had heard more noise following that, another scream or another harsh impact against the wall or floor. But what follows is silence, a heavy and ominous one that stills even the rebellious wind. Your eyes widen when you hear the rusty sound of the dungeon opening and soon, an unrecognizable figure standing in front of your cell. <a data-passage="0.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Gathering all your strength and none of your common sense, you try and push Laurens away from you. Only, the meager attempt is anything but fruitless. Not expecting such an action, he loses his balance and falls to the ground but is up quicker than you anticipate. His foot lands in your stomach as he unloads every inch of hatred he has onto you. His actions see no end, and you can do nothing but curl into a ball to fend off the worst of his attacks. You silence the world, shutting everything within you off. And it all goes quiet. You blink. A distant sound catching your attention as your senses awaken and the world and your circumstance comes back to you. You don't know when Laurens left or when the aches of the pain became superficial groans. You don't remember when you had fallen asleep or when Laurens had managed to fasten you to the chains. And frankly, you're quite happy to have missed all of this. You hear it again, the strange noise that sounds like it comes from directly above you. Following it is the sound of a heavy thud, and then another. Silence sets in, and just as you believe it to be your mind playing tricks on you due to circumstance, you hear a scream. But it isn't some playful scream that you have listened to in the past or even a shocked one that tells you an accident has taken place. This scream is harrowing, the sound of someone who chooses that to be the last sound they ever make. Perhaps your heart wouldn't thump so frantically if you had heard more noise following that, another scream or another harsh impact against the wall or floor. But what follows is silence, a heavy and ominous one that stills even the rebellious wind. Your eyes widen when you hear the rusty sound of the dungeon opening and soon, an unrecognizable figure standing in front of your cell. <a data-passage="0.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You take a steadying breath in and attempt to become as still as possible. The constant thudding of your heart causes you to question if you are successful. Out of the corner of your eye you notice the moonlight that streams in, enough to illuminate the cell in which you are being held. No one with sense would walk past and believe someone is not within. But that isn't what you are hoping to accomplish. You hope that they will not investigate further at all. That the silence will tell them that no one is there and that they should divert their attention to other parts of the tower. That thought comes and goes when a figure stops in front of your cell. Both the torches along the walls and the moon do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser's face. <<include "0.17">>
It perhaps isn't the brightest idea, but it is the first thing that comes to your mind. "Who's there?" The footsteps that you once heard have now paused. There is nothing but silence for a while, but then footsteps are once again heard. They come nearer, and you feel yourself stiffen, unsure what to do. There isn't much you can do. What if they kill you, or what if they simply leave you here? Neither is appealing. You wish to shrink, become invisible and morph into the shadows until all of this passes. And then they're there. The intruder stands before your cell. Both the torches along the walls and the moon do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser's face. <<include "0.17">>
The idea isn't the wisest. In the past you tried to free yourself of these shackles and over the years you have always hoped that their rusty nature would give way to fragility and that, to freedom. No such luck. You pull against it, creating more and more noise as you fight. But you no longer care. In the tower, it is misery, but you know that your life will continue. That you no longer have to worry about those around you causing you death. Death. Are you prepared for that? These thoughts see you choking on your own dread. This ... this is not how you wish to depart this world. Your thoughts scream and take up more of your attention. They're so distracting that you fail to notice the figure that now stands before your cell. Both the torches along the walls and the moon do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser's face. <<include "0.17">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Brave ++''</span><</if>> <<if $route_zarik>>\ You approach the door with confident yet measured steps, refusing to let that voice sway you. As you near the door, you hear what sounds to be weapons clashing and people shouting. Your heart skips a beat, imagining things that feel far too surreal. There was only one way to figure out what was going on, and it didn't involve you staying on this side of the door. You grab the knob, about to open it, when someone on the other side opens it instead. The door rams into you, and you stumble back, groaning but swiftly recovering as two guards enter. "$name! Thank goodness, come with us immediately." They don't attempt to explain or even wait for you to get your bearings, both grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room. [[Refuse to move until they give you answers.][$force +=5]] [[Persuade them to speak with you.][$charisma +=5]] [[Trick them into giving you information.][$stealth +=5]] <<else>>\ You approach the door with confident yet measured steps, refusing to let that voice sway you. Grabbing the knob, you open it, shocked that it was unlocked. The guards had a key, and though some nights they forgot, most nights they locked you in. Glancing into the long hall, you soon find fault in your previous theory. There was a lack of guards standing outside your door. The entire hallway was empty. You typically never left the room at night, having no need and wishing to bypass the punishment of doing so. <<if $route_ruben>>A sentence you were familiar with due to the number of times you had attempted to flee and the guards hauling you back. Soon, you gave up entirely. The area was much more defended at night than during the day. Until now.<<else>><<if $tower <50>>A sentence you were familiar with due to the number of times you had attempted to leave and the guards hauling you back. Soon, you gave up entirely. You hadn't even wished to be long, you just ... well, you wanted to just see the world.<<else>>This was actually new to you and though you felt a chill at what could be the matter, your blood pumps in wonder.<</if>><</if>> Knowing you would be caught but far too curious to let this go, you take a step out in the hall. Then you pause, understanding what getting apprehended could lead to<<if $route_ruben>>, that cell was still so fresh in your mind.<<else>>.<</if>> <<if $route_ozara>>\ [[Commit to this, continue on.][$tower -=5; $llecknown = true]] [[Wait and think this through.][$dressed = true; $tower +=5]] <<else>>\ [[Commit to this, continue on.]] [[Wait and think this through.][$dressed = true]] <</if>>\ <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow and $route_ozara>><span class="stats">''Free ++''</span><</if>> You were already out of the room, and if you were going to use this style of thinking, then turning around right now to head back could land you in trouble just as quickly. No, you would commit. This could lead to so many possible outlets, and you knew you would forever regret it if you didn’t even bother attempting. <<if $route_ruben or $tower >=50>>\ As you head down the hall, you are reminded of your most successful escape attempt. One that ended only due to your failure to think everything through. You had made it past the guards and servants. Running outside, your heart beating fiercely when you paused, everything was snow and more snow — mountains impossible to climb and land that would bury you. You had no choice but to go back and face your punishment.<<if $route_ozara>> It had actually been small, Fennore forgiving you and giving you a more firm lesson on what you would have been faced with.<</if>> This was no better. It was a spur of the moment decision, and you were hardly even dressed for such an excursion. Yet, you continue on, again telling yourself that turning around was foolish. Perhaps something deeper told you that you wouldn't make it far anyway. <<else>>\ The farther you go the more you realize how ridiculous this was. It was a spur of the moment decision, and you were hardly even dressed for such an excursion. Yet, you continue on, again telling yourself that turning around was foolish. Perhaps something deeper told you that you wouldn't make it far anyway. <</if>>\ [[Be as stealthy as possible.|0.14Stealth][$stealth +=5]] [[Rush in and charge them.][$force +=5]] [[Use the missing guards as an escape route.][$charisma +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow and $route_ozara>><span class="stats">''Tower ++''</span><</if>> The guards could have simply gone to relieve themselves, believing that you were asleep, and wouldn’t pose a problem. They could, as you were standing here, be making their way back. You retreat back into the room and softly close the door behind you, changing your clothes to something far more suitable for what you might do. You listen, believing to hear distant noises but not knowing if that was your nerves or reality. Plenty of minutes pass, and still, no guards come back. Finally believing yourself in the clear, you once again leave the shelter of your room. But what if they were on their way back now? What if you had wasted precious minutes due to your indecisive and cautious nature? “Huh, so what I’m doing right now,” you say loudly. Making up your mind, you head down the hall, stopping every few steps to listen. You make it to the top of the staircase, resting at the bottom would be another pair of guards. There was the chance that they were not there, but also the possibility that they were. [[Be as stealthy as possible.|0.14Stealth][$stealth +=5]] [[Rush in and charge them.][$force +=5]] [[Use the missing guards as an escape route.][$charisma +=5]]
The only way to make it past the guards would be to approach stealthily. You had enough practice at it. The problem was what would you do once at the bottom of the stairs. If there were two guards, then you would either have to distract them or retreat. You decide to see what the situation was before wasting time debating it. You could hide in the shadows of the stairs and think. With your reasoning sound, you head down the stairs, taking each one as carefully as the last. You slow down when you get towards the bottom, peering around the corner and seeing no guards. Instead, you see a cluster of bodies lying on the floor. Awestruck and disturbed, you walk down the rest of the way. Your eyes widen as you take them in, two of the guards you identify as the ones that watch your door. Then you see movement. You scramble backward and look to see a figure standing amidst the bodies. The torches along the walls do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser’s face. <<include "0.15">>
They were not expecting you, and unless your guards left and warned those below, they would hardly be on guard. Your last line of thought made little sense. If that was the case, wouldn’t the two guards just choose to change their post to your room? You shake your head. You would run down the stairs and ram into them. Caught off guard, they would be too disgruntled and perplexed to stop you. You might even manage to grab a weapon. With your reasoning sound, you head down the stairs, picking up speed as you go. You have to also be careful not to run into the wall and to make sure you didn’t trip, wouldn’t that be a sight. You get to the bottom and pick up speed. No one is there, but that realization comes too slow, and you trip over something. Groaning, you find yourself sitting amongst a cluster of bodies, two of them you recognize as being your guards. Then you see movement. You scramble backward and look to see a figure standing amidst the bodies. The torches along the walls do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser’s face. <<include "0.15">>
The guards in front of your door were missing, you could use that. You weren’t permitted to leave your room by yourself, and on the rare occasions you awoke in need of relieving yourself, one of them was always there to escort you. Yes, that would be your excuse. You would tell the guards if they were there that you had left your room for an escort and found no one. They couldn’t expect you to hold it in. With your reasoning sound, you head down the stairs. Instead of finding two guards standing on duty, you see a cluster of bodies. Your eyes widen as you take them in, two of the guards you identify as your guards. Then you see movement. You scramble backward and look to see a figure standing amidst the bodies. The torches along the walls do a reasonable enough job of casting light along the trespasser’s face. <<include "0.15">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++''</span><</if>> <<if $route_zarik>>\ Leaving is foolish and merely asking for trouble. No, whatever that noise is, it is no business of yours. You head to your bed and lie down, efficiently ridding yourself of all your previous thoughts. Bringing the pillow close, you attempt to fall asleep. You are unsure if you actually managed to rest or if you just recently closed your eyes when the door bursts open and two guards enter. "$name! Thank goodness, come with us immediately." They don't attempt to explain or even wait for you to get your bearings, both coming to one side of the bed and grabbing your arms. They pull you to your feet and out of the room. [[Refuse to move until they give you answers.][$force +=5]] [[Persuade them to speak with you.][$charisma +=5]] [[Trick them into giving you information.][$stealth +=5]] <<else>>\ Leaving is foolish and merely asking for trouble.<<if $route_ruben>> You had just gotten free of the cell. Why would you purposely try and go back? How many times have you attempted to escape and then found yourself right back here?<</if>> No, whatever that noise was, it was no business of yours. You head to your bed and lie down, efficiently ridding yourself of all your previous thoughts. Bringing the pillow close, you attempt to fall asleep. You are unsure if you actually managed to rest or if you had just recently closed your eyes when you hear the doorknob jingle. You hear cursed mumbling, and your heart speeds up. If that was your guard, wouldn't they know they locked the door? At best, even if they did not know, they would have a key. They would have just tried that instead of rattling the doorknob. Glancing around your mind comes up with a list of possibilities, none of them perfect. You could hide, or perhaps that was silly. If they were guards or even a Watcher or servant, then them having to look for you might cause panic. They would alert the entire tower with claims that you were missing. Sure, you would show yourself but save for the servants, the other two factions would punish you simply for making them appear foolish. [[Hide. Now.][$leery +=10]] [[Stay where you are, simply act asleep.][$leery -=10]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Leery ++''</span><</if>> You glance around for a place to hide. There was [[behind the door][$stealth +=5; $behinddoor = true]], the person would probably not assume you were there. It was reasonable and would likely allow you to talk your way out of trouble but also let you slip out unnoticed if that was wiser. Then there was [[underneath the bed][$force +=5; $underneathbed = true]], though a tight fit, it could be used to your advantage for when the person wanders too close. You would grab their leg, cause them to trip, and then you were out. The last place that could successfully hide you was [[the closet][$charisma +=5; $closet = true]]. It was the most apparent place as well as the only real area that hardly needed explaining. It was less of a hiding spot and more of a place to retreat to.
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Naive ++''</span><</if>> You decide to stay in bed. The worst-case scenario was that someone would try and overpower you here which you could still make a suitable plan to counteract that. With little time, you think about the best course of action. If they come in, they’ll immediately see your prone form. If they were guards, then they’ll leave you be, only checking up on you. But if anyone else, that would not be the case. You could [[act drugged][$stealth +=5; $drugged = true]] … yes, that was possible and not even an unlikely possibility. There were times where you would actually ask Nyana’iva to do so to bypass the fits you sometimes had in your sleep. Or perhaps a more potent route was wise. You would wait for them to get closer and once in range, [[attack][$force +=5; $attack = true]]. They could possibly overwhelm you, but you would have the element of surprise on your side. Besides that, the only other effective plan was simply to [[act normal][$charisma +=5]]. Say that the sounds of the doorknob being jingled woke you. Straightforward and could possibly surprise anyone who thought you to be asleep.
You scurry behind the door, pushing yourself as flush against the wall as possible. You wait. The person on the other side finally gets the door open, and it swings towards you, stopping inches away from your face. You can’t see anything, but that also means they can’t see you. You wait a few minutes, slowly moving so that you could get a better look at the room. Gazing out, the moonlight aids you just enough to make out who was in your room. <<include "0.16">>
You rush off the bed, quietly enough to where whoever was on the other side would not know that someone was inside. Pulling yourself underneath it, you wait with bated breath for the person to come inside. They finally manage to open it and, with calculating steps, enter. You wait for them to come closer. Expelling your nerves, you lunge out and grab onto their ankles, yanking them off their feet. You begin to scramble out from underneath the bed, and with the moonlight aiding you, see who was in your room. <<include "0.16">>
You slip off the bed and head to the small closet. You close the door partially, delicately trying to balance the sense of hiding with the feeling of ease. It was a difficult task, that much evident by your racing heart. The person finally manages to open it and enters. You hold your breath, unable to see them until they come in further. Once in a suitable spot, the moonlight aids you enough to make out who was in your room. <<include "0.16">>
You decide that acting like you were in a deep sleep was the best course of action. You move around so that someone would have to get closer to see and move the duvet so that it hid the rise and fall of your chest. Once satisfied, you close your eyes and wait. It doesn’t take long for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. You steady your breathing and anticipate their next actions, listening to footsteps. You can feel eyes on you, but you no longer hear movement. Your stomach churns, and no amount of calming words can pacify your thundering heart. Nothing happens, and you finally open your eyes just a sliver, thankful that the moon was bright that night. The person is staring at you. <<include "0.16">>
You decide that your best bet was to get them before they could get you if it came to that. You rearrange yourself so that you could quickly lunge forward and overwhelm whoever came close. You would just need to wait until they got into your range of attack. Confident with your actions, you lie down and feign slumber. It doesn’t take long for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. You steady your breathing and wait, listening to their footsteps. You can feel eyes on you, and opening your eyes just enough, you see them walk into your space. Mentally taking a deep breath in, you lunge forward. The moonlight brightens their face. <<include "0.16">>
You weren’t asleep, and acting as if you were could lead to you being found out or something equally or more negative. You didn’t wish for that to happen. You tell yourself that the worst thing that can happen is that you were about to meet your death. Grim and highly fatalistic, but it calms you down just enough to greet whatever awaits you. It doesn’t take long for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. You stare at them, and they, back at you, shock evident on their face at finding you in such a state. <<include "0.16">>
Being that there were two of them, escaping their grasp wasn't as easy as simply wrenching your arms free. It takes a lot of resilience and counter-maneuvering, but you are finally able to free yourself. "Tell me what is going on. Is it Laurens?" This wasn't the first time you've been rudely awakened and summoned in such a way. It hasn't happened in quite a while though, typically Laurens comes to retrieve you personally. "We do not have time, trust me," the nearest guard growls, reaching out for your arm, but you were prepared for such a thing and outwit him. You increase the space between you and give them a knowing glance; there was nothing they could say to make you move besides the truth. One opens his mouth, but before he can explain the situation or again beg for your cooperation, a sword implants itself into his chest. He sputters, blood rushing from his mouth as the last bits of life leave his eyes. The other shouts and runs towards the assailant but doesn't get far. Where did this man even come from? This was a long hallway, and the only way up was by stairs. There was no way you wouldn't have seen him, especially with how big he was. The figure lifts his sword. It would seem that you were next to be slaughtered. [[“I'll do whatever you ask.”|0.15ZYouAsk][$leery -=5; $trouble -=5]] [[“Just kill me already.”|0.15ZJustDoIt][$cold +=5; $action +=5]] [[“Tell me why.”|0.15ZAintNothingButAHeartache][$action -=5; $positive +=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]] [[Attempt to dodge.|0.15ZDodge][$action -=3; $leery +=5]] [[Throw yourself at him.|0.15ZThrowYourself][$action +=5; $timid -=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]]
You allow them to pull you, but you do not go quietly. You refuse to. "Tell me what is going on. Is it Laurens?" It's not rare to be awoken in such a way and forced to either think quick on your feet or await whatever Laurens has planned. "We do not have time, trust me," the nearest guard growls. "Then make time. I can hear the fighting. Are some of the servants rebelling? The guards?" One opens his mouth, but before he can explain the situation or again beg for your cooperation, a sword implants itself into his chest. He sputters, blood rushing from his mouth as the last bits of life leave his eyes. The other shouts and runs towards the assailant but doesn't get far. Where did this man even come from? This is a long hallway, and the only way up is by stairs. There's no way you wouldn't have seen him, especially with how big he is. The figure lifts his sword. It seems that you are next to be slaughtered. [[“I'll do whatever you ask.”|0.15ZYouAsk][$leery -=5; $trouble -=5]] [[“Just kill me already.”|0.15ZJustDoIt][$cold +=5; $action +=5]] [[“Tell me why.”|0.15ZAintNothingButAHeartache][$action -=5; $positive +=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]] [[Attempt to dodge.|0.15ZDodge][$action -=3; $leery +=5]] [[Throw yourself at him.|0.15ZThrowYourself][$action +=5; $timid -=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]]
You allow them to pull you, but only so you could think things through. They didn't seem keen on informing you about what was going on. The best way to extract any information was through fraudulent means. You had heard the fighting, or what you believe is fighting. Perhaps a rebellion was taking place. No other theory made sense besides the tower being attacked by outside forces, and though that made more sense than a coup, you had trouble believing it. "Is it the servants?" Both pause for a second to look at you with bemusement in their gazes. "Why would it be the servants?" the nearest guard inquires. "Then who? I can hear the fighting." One opens his mouth, but before he can explain the situation or again beg for your cooperation, a sword implants itself into his chest. He sputters, blood rushing from his mouth as the last bits of life leave his eyes. The other shouts and runs towards the assailant but doesn't get far. Where did this man even come from? This was a long hallway, and the only way up was by stairs. There was no way you wouldn't have seen him, especially with how big he was. The figure lifts his sword. It would seem that you were next to be slaughtered. [[“I'll do whatever you ask.”|0.15ZYouAsk][$leery -=5; $trouble -=5]] [[“Just kill me already.”|0.15ZJustDoIt][$cold +=5; $action +=5]] [[“Tell me why.”|0.15ZAintNothingButAHeartache][$action -=5; $positive +=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]] [[Attempt to dodge.|0.15ZDodge][$action -=3; $leery +=5]] [[Throw yourself at him.|0.15ZThrowYourself][$action +=5; $timid -=5; $joinme_ruben +=1]]
<<if $route_ruben>>\ Your thoughts are voiceless. You wish to call the man beautiful, but something feels profoundly wrong with that, like telling a great hunter that he is elegant. It is something that you feel will cause offense despite the truth within your words. A rugged beauty perhaps is far better to articulate. Long crimson hair falls onto his shoulders, deterred only by the overly thick fur coat he wears. Against his pale skin, it almost is like a beacon for any near. His frame, even hidden away, is evident. Tall and muscular, <<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>rivaling even your own height.<<else>>dwarfing you easily in both.<</if>> And though you cannot see his eyes as clearly as you wish, you can tell that they belong to the same general hue as his hair. And then the figure attacks. Your moment of inquisitiveness hinders your ability to react in time, and he is soon upon you. You fight, but it is quite clear who has the upper hand and the most experience. You are swiftly subdued, and he rests his weight on you to keep you from moving. Even if you did decide to, the curved cynical feel of metal grazing your neck is deterrent enough. You hold your breath, meeting the steely gaze of the man who could very well be your killer. <a data-passage="0.15Ruben"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ For a minute, your breath escapes you as you take in the young woman now standing there. She is beauty incarnated, perhaps even the word beautiful, not genuinely expressing how lovely she appears. Ethereal somehow seems far closer. The light itself seems drawn to her, showering her with as much brilliance as it can offer. Her heavily kinky aegean-colored hair frames her face perfectly, bringing attention to both it and her warm russet brown tone. She stands with what can be characterized as great confidence or arrogance—a power to her stance that warns you that she is dangerous. And then you are brought back to the now, and her beauty no longer outweighs her lethality. One step is made, followed soon by another. The blizzard's wind clash into her stoic form, causing her cape to whip about violently, but it phases her none. "I give you one chance," the woman states, continuing to approach, "down on your knees." You hear the clanking of what you assume to be metal and glance down at her hand where an obscure weapon rests. Taking in the scene around you, it seems only wise to do as she says, lest you wish to join those around you. <a data-passage="0.15Ozara"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
Something shifts. His eyes widen with a mix of shock and interest, but that doesn't bring you as much joy as the feeling of him removing the blade. You take a deep breath in and out, not realizing that you had continued to hold your breath. "Phoenix?" "Uh? Yes?" you answer, still attempting to find your voice after the ordeal. "Well, then," he exclaims, rising off of you, "isn't this my lucky day. Or more so yours. Consider yourself saved, ?princess." [[“You almost killed me.”|0.15RKilledMe]] [[“What? Who are you?”|0.15RWho]] [[“Saved?”|0.15RSaved]]
"You … you almost killed me." "Still might." He straightens himself and gazes thoughtfully into the air, "that would solve all the problems that just arisen. No, but then the body would be too fresh. Someone would find the coincidence far too convenient. Hmm, I could just say your guard killed you. One of those, 'if I can't have ?her no one can' kind of things. A tragic loss, I'm sure." You look at him in horror, suddenly doubting that this man was here to save you and not to just become your future executioner. He takes notice of your expression, "sometimes I speak aloud." "You should speak more quietly." He smirks, but before he can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. <<include "0.15.1Ruben">>
"What? Who even are you?" Before he can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. <<include "0.15.1Ruben">>
"Saved?" you repeat, the word so foreign and odd. Used to describe another, perhaps. But for you? No. It was like hope. It was something that you read in stories and pamphlets or heard spoken of in jest. It didn't happen to you. "Yes, saved," he speaks with an annoyed tone, "that's what I said." Before you can add or question him further, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. Like you had suspected, this wasn't happening. Saved, you? No, those two words were never in the same sentence. <<include "0.15.1Ruben">>
"Time to go," he voices, grabbing your hand and yanking you behind him. <<if $notouchy>>At first, you attempt to regain control of your hand but he moves too fast for the action to be successful.<<else>>He leads you down hall after hall, bodies laid about everywhere.<</if>> Though it takes you a minute, you realize that there was no one else around. Was this all of his work? <a data-passage="0.18Ruben"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Raising your hands to show that you are both unarmed and not a threat, you lower yourself to your knees. Will this be how it ends for you? The thought of a random woman murdering you in the hall amongst those who watched over you causes a flurry of mixed feelings. Ironic that it is a stranger who will end this, all of Watcher Fennore's words come to life. She approaches, and you wrack your brain for something to say. Would appealing to her better nature do anything? They were guards and you were not. If she had a problem with them, then she perhaps did not have the same problem with you. [[“Spare me. Please.”|0.15OSpare]] [[“If you’re going to kill me. Get it over with.”|0.15OKillMe]]
"Spare me, please. I ..." you try to think of a reason why she would and come up with nothing. The only thing that comes to mind is that you are innocent, having done nothing your entire life but fail. But perhaps that is reason enough for her to end this despite your pleads. "You think -" Her words are drowned out by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. You have only heard such a noise one time and that was when you managed to escape. <<include "0.15OzaraAddOn">>
"Look, if you're going to kill me, then get it over with. I'm not about to beg for my life." She kneels once she is directly in front of you, "your life means so little to you?" "I would hardly call the life I'm living a life." She gazes at the bodies strewn around us, "then perhaps your next one will be more engaging." With a shaky body, you prepare for a killing blow. But nothing comes unless death was meant to feel so inconsequential. You open an eye to see the young woman walking away. "You're not going to kill me?" "Why would I? When -" Her words are drowned out by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. You had only heard such a noise one time when you had escaped. <<include "0.15OzaraAddOn">>
“Unimpressive,” the woman sighs, “that should have gone off such a long time ago.” She regards you with impatience, “well, Heir Phoenix, are you coming or not?” She doesn't wait for you to reply or move, leaning forward to grab your hand. Poorly rectified instincts and a fear of the past lead to history repeating itself. You throw your hands up defensively, wishing to tell her to back away to save herself from the exact thing you send her way. Fire shoots out towards her, and she gasps in shock, jumping away as it clings to her, much like it did Nyana'iva. The scene from then creeps in, and you swear to yourself. Her screams and the sheer terror on her face haunt you. You have to be calm. You must always be calm, or you will burn everything and everyone around you. Why, you wish to shout. An annoyed grunt brings you back to the now, and your eyes widen as the fire suddenly fizzles out, the woman appearing far more annoyed than hurt. You stammer out what is a mix of an excuse and a wish to understand what she has just done. She raises her hand, causing you to hush. "My apologies. I should not have attempted to grab you. But we really do not have time. Come." This time, she only gestures for you to follow, and you do so, not fully thinking your actions through as you go. As you head down hallway after hallway, you notice the staggeringly large amount of bodies. <a data-passage="0.18Ozara"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_ruben>>\ Your thoughts are voiceless. You wish to call the man beautiful, but something feels profoundly wrong with that, like telling a great hunter that he is elegant. It is something that you feel will cause offense despite the truth within your words. A rugged beauty perhaps is far better to articulate. Long crimson hair falls onto his shoulders, deterred only by the overly thick fur coat he wears. Against his pale skin, it almost is like a beacon for any near. His frame, even hidden away, is evident. Tall and muscular, <<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>rivaling even your own height.<<else>>dwarfing you easily in both.<</if>> And though you cannot see his eyes as clearly as you wish, you can tell that they belong to the same general hue as his hair. <<else>>\ For a minute, your breath escapes you as you take in the young woman now standing there. She was beauty incarnated, perhaps even the word beautiful, not genuinely expressing how lovely she appears. Ethereal somehow seemed far closer. The light itself seems drawn to her, showering her with as much brilliance as it could offer. Her heavily kinky aegean-colored hair framed her face perfectly, bringing attention to both it and her warm russet brown tone. She stands with what could be characterized as great confidence or arrogance—a power to her stance that warns you that she was dangerous. <</if>>\ <<if $behinddoor or $closet>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ It wasn't just his appearance that caused you to pause and hold your breath but the fact that you could make out his eyes due to him staring at you. "Nice hiding spot, ?princess." He sarcastically claps, his apathy disallowing him from carrying on the activity for long, "truly. I'm in the presence of one of great stealth." <<else>>\ It wasn't just her appearance that caused you to pause and hold your breath but the fact that you could make out her eyes due to her staring at you. "Do you mind coming out now?" Sheepishly and with a cautious step, you do as she says, "did you truly think such a place would hide you well?" With fear and a chary disposition willing you forward, you finally find your voice. <</if>>\ <<elseif $underneathbed>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ Before you could take in anything else, your world shifts viciously. The man grabs you and gains the upper hand, pinning you down to the ground and placing his knee to your chest, threatening you by applying just enough pressure to let the air in your lungs escape. "Do that again," he growls, leaning in, "and you won't see the next day. I don't care who you are, ?princess." He removes his knee, and you gasp for air, taking it in like a famished crazed person. Once you can breathe normally again, you gaze over at the stranger. <<else>>\ Before you could take in anything else, your world shifts viciously. A foot meets your face, and a hand grabs onto you, yanking you from underneath the bed as you moan about the pain radiating through your body. "You!" you hear the woman growl, and someone unhands you, "have a death wish. That is the only thing that makes sense for nothing else does." Once you regain feeling in your face and the pain has lessened, you gaze over at the stranger. <</if>>\ <<elseif $drugged>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ You continue to feign sleep, keeping your breath steady as you feel the stranger travel near. You stiffen involuntarily as you feel his warm breath ghost against your ear and neck. "You're not as good an actor as you think, ?princess." Your eyes open to meet his, and he smirks, barely managing to contain his laughter as he places space between the two of you. <<else>>\ You continue to feign sleep, keeping your breath steady as you feel the stranger travel near. You stiffen involuntarily as you feel her eyes on you but notice that all movement has stopped. You want to let out a shaky breath, but you continue to keep the charade up. "Tell me when you wish to drop this foolish act." Your eyes open to meet hers, and she rolls her eyes with impatience as she scratches her temple, "why me?" <</if>>\ <<elseif $attack>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ You find yourself caught, his reaction far faster than yours and both wrists now in his clenching grip. He regards you with an unimpressed glimmer in his eye. "I've seen newborns with a faster reaction, ?princess," he leans in with a cocky smirk, "you'd be wise not to do that again." Tightening his grip and causing you to grit your teeth in pain, he releases you and moves away. <<else>>\ You find yourself caught, her reaction far faster than yours and both wrists now in her tenacious grip. She regards you with distaste before releasing you, sighing as she stands. "For the sake of both of our health, don't do that again. I have no desire to test your strength against mine." She moves away, and you straighten up, glancing her over, wondering if you were in a position to take her in a fight. The light glances off something metallic at her waist, an unusual weapon that you had never seen before. You doubt you would get far in a fight with her anyway. No use trying to test her proficiency or discovering what that weapon could do. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $route_ruben>>\ The two of you continue to stare at one another, neither of you wishing to speak first. But your mounting questions were becoming steeper than the mountains that rest outside your window, and you lose the strength to support them. <<else>>\ The two of you continue to stare at one another when she finally breaks the silence. "Are you to sit there and stare at me this entire time, or will you say something at least?" <</if>>\ <</if>>\ [[“Are you going to kill me?”|0.16Kill]] [[“Who are you?”|0.16WhoYou]] [[“How did you get in here?”|0.16HowHere]]
<<if $route_ruben>>\ "Are … are you going to kill me?" He opens his mouth to respond but then closes it, his face scrunching up as if he hadn't thought of doing so, but now that you had said it, it was a possibility. "It would be a great waste," he speaks aloud, scratching his beard, "but killing you would relieve me of many issues and make all of this much simpler. No, but then the body would be too fresh. Someone would find the coincidence far too convenient. Hmm, I could just say your guard killed you. One of those, 'if I can't have ?her no one can' kind of things. A tragic loss, I'm sure." You look at him in horror, suddenly doubting that this man was here to save you and not to just become your future executioner. He takes notice of your expression, "sometimes I speak aloud." "You should speak more quietly." He smirks, but before he can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. <<include "0.16Ruben">> <<else>>\ "Are … are you going to kill me?" She raises a brow and smirks, "I actually believed I would arrive and find a corpse at best. At worst, nothing at all. You, alive and speaking, is quite a shock." "You didn't answer the question." She sighs upon approaching the door, and you notice her entire body stiffen, "no. I'm not a killer." Her answer causes a slew of other questions, particularly how she got past the numerous guards who should've been on duty. But before you can question her further, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. <<include "0.16Ozara">> <</if>>\
<<if $route_ruben>>\ "Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" He waves your words away with a grimace, "all you need to know is that you're in the process of being saved." "Then why do I feel like the opposite shall occur." He smirks and shrugs, "perhaps you're not as stupid as I believed you to be." Before you can fire off the proper retort, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. <<include "0.16Ruben">> <<else>>\ "Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" She grimaces and waves each question away as if they are bad omens surfacing to haunt her. "You may ask as many questions as you wish once we are free from this place." "Free?" The simple question is filled with doubt, more so confusion. The idea of being free from this place is never something you thought possible. <<if $tower <50>>It is something hidden deep within your dreams, but you have grown content with leaving them there.<<else>>You have no true want to leave the safety of the tower, especially if Fennore's words ring true.<</if>> Before she can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. <<include "0.16Ozara">> <</if>>\
<<if $route_ruben>>\ "How did you get in here?" you question, about to add that two guards should have stopped him, though there should have been many more. "Quite easily," he answers, almost sounding despondent about the ease in which he arrived. "What kind of tower has formidable defenses but then inexperienced guards? I was hoping for at least a new scar to show the others." He sighs, and you are forced to ponder if he spoke truthfully. Before you can ask anything more, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You had only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had managed to escape. "Ah, perhaps that scar will still be earned." <<include "0.16Ruben">> <<else>>\ "How did you get in here?" you question, about to add that two guards should have stopped her, though there should have been many more. "The front door?" she questions more than answers, her brow rising as it seems like she is asking you how else is she to enter. "You say that with confidence, but there are several guards that patrol this area. Are you telling me they didn't see you?" You know for a fact that merely waltzing in is not possible, similar to how the act of leaving isn't either. She either had to have cut them down or had an army with her, but the lack of sounds resonating from outside your door tells you that the latter is not a possibility. Before she can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. <<include "0.16Ozara">> <</if>>\
He grabs you and yanks you after him, pulling you into the hallway and towards the distant staircase. You notice there were no guards and question what all this was. Was he with them? Was this how you would meet your death? No, he spoke as if a savior. Albeit a poor one, but one who seemed to want to 'save' you nevertheless. With you in tow, the two of you make it downstairs, and your previous question is put to rest. All around you are bodies strewn around haphazardly and blood beginning to pool and settle—two of them you recognize as the guards who were meant to watch your room. You continue on, the bodies only continuing on as you rush down one of the hallways. <a data-passage="0.18Ruben"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The woman gazes up, the same tired look from before returning to her eye, "it seems the guards have finally felt it necessary to guard. Come." She doesn't wait for you to reply or move, leaning forward to grab your hand. Poorly rectified instincts and a fear of the past lead to history repeating itself. You throw your hands up defensively, wishing to tell her to back away to save herself from the exact thing you send her way. Fire shoots out towards her, and she gasps in shock, jumping away as it clings to her, much like it did Nyana'iva. The scene from then creeps in, and you swear to yourself. Her screams and the sheer terror on her face haunt you. You have to be calm. You must always be calm, or you will burn everything and everyone around you. Why, you wish to shout. An annoyed grunt brings you back to the now, and your eyes widen as the fire suddenly fizzles out, the woman appearing far more annoyed than hurt. You stammer out what is a mix of an excuse and a wish to understand what she has just done. She raises her hand, causing you to hush. "My apologies. I should not have attempted to grab you. But we really do not have time. Come." This time, she only gestures for you to follow, and you do so, not fully thinking your actions through as you go. As you head down hallway after hallway, you notice the staggeringly large amount of bodies. <a data-passage="0.18Ozara"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_ruben>>\ Your thoughts are voiceless. You wish to call the man beautiful, but something feels profoundly wrong with that, like telling a great hunter that he is elegant. It is something that you feel will cause offense despite the truth within your words. A rugged beauty perhaps is far better to articulate. Long crimson hair falls onto his shoulders, deterred only by the overly thick fur coat he wears. Against his pale skin, it almost is like a beacon for any near. His frame, even hidden away, is evident. Tall and muscular, <<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>rivaling even your own height.<<else>>dwarfing you easily in both.<</if>> And though you cannot see his eyes as clearly as you wish, you can tell that they belong to the same general hue as his hair. <<include "0.17Ruben">> <<else>>\ Your heart beats wildly, taking in the intimidating figure before you. Military, based on the armor they wear but they possess no helmet and the colors and symbol are unclear, or you just don't know enough about. You have a clear view of their features, or at least as straightforward as the existing light allows. Despite the prominent dangerous elements, they are intriguing. Part of you swoons at their features and how flawless they appear, like a hero from old stories. But the other part is cautious; those soft and flawless aspects covered by grime that gives them a sinister aura. Their slightly amber fawned skin is disrupted by crimson streaks, and only their blonde hair is free from this muck, though heavily disheveled. <a data-passage="0.17Nour"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
"Phoenix?" Your mouth is dry, and after telling yourself numerous times that you should say something, your lips finally form words, "yes?" He kneels down and begins to fiddle with the lock, and before long, you hear the clicking to say that he accomplishes his task. That skill would have been valuable on so many occassions, you find. He enters the cell and raises a brow at your state. "I'm already regretting this," he grumbles, violently fiddling with your shackles. He continues to murmur about things you can make no sense of. Once free, you fall unceremoniously to the ground, your body shaking as it craves the lack of strain that no longer plagues your muscles. It's like your back begins to breathe, though, upon reconsideration, that probably isn't a good thing. With a huff, your rescuer bends down and examines you. Another growl resonating in his chest as he peers at your back. "Your back won't allow me to carry you. You'll have to walk. Let's go." He grabs onto your arm and pulls you to your feet, the action hovering between harsh and gentle in a negligent fashion. [[“How did you get in here.”|0.17RGetIn][$ruben -=5]] [[“What? Who are you?”|0.17RWho][$ruben +=3]] [[“Go? Go where?”|0.17RGoWhere][$ruben -=3]] [[Conserve energy.|0.17RConserve][$ruben +=5]]
"How did you get in here? There are guards at all the doors, especially this one." "I can handle some inexperienced guards," he mumbles, "the wind's bite is worse than them. Now shut up and focus on moving." "Excuse me?" He stiffens and glares back to you, the irritation on his features clear. But before he can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You have only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had attempted to escape. <<include "0.17.1Ruben">>
"What? Who even are you?" Before he can answer, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You have only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had attempted to escape. <<include "0.17.1Ruben">>
"Go? Go where?" you question. Who is this man and where are you going? He can't be one of the guards. If that much is true then he would have possessed keys? He also looks nothing like the others and carries himself in a way that you are unfamiliar with. One thing you know for sure is that he is not with those who watch over this tower. "Does it matter? Would your rather stay here?" he questions with an annoyed tone. Before you can answer him further, the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You have only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had attempted to escape. <<include "0.17.1Ruben">>
You move your lips but think better of it, wishing to instead focus on your wounds and conserve energy. Given a few more hours, you will be able to walk on your own. A few more days, and you will be as good as new. Though that only means you are in prime condition for Laurens to once again shower his disdain down upon you. As he heads away the resonant sounds of a gong being struck grab both of your attention. You have only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you had attempted to escape. <<include "0.17.1Ruben">>
<<if $notouchy or $nosa is false>>\ "Time to go," he voices, reaching for your hand and though your mind instinctively moves back, your body does not. Either way, he notices the flinch, proving that he is much more cognizant of his surroundings than the standard guard. "Follow." He walks off. You focus in on yourself, your body groaning at the idea of moving even an inch forward, but you don't expect this man to be pleased by that. With a pained expression, you go. He leads you out of the dungeons and down one hall and then another, where you find bodies strewn about everywhere. He navigates around them with no care, telling you all you need to know. This is his work. Though it takes you a minute, you realize that there is no one else around. Is this all his doing? <<else>>\ "Time to go," he voices, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to his side to aid you. He leads you down hall after hall, until you come across strewn about bodies. He navigates around them with no care, telling you all you need to know. This is his work. Though it takes you a minute, you realize that there is no one else around. Is this all his doing? <</if>>\ <a data-passage="0.18Ruben"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
When your eyes meet, you see a mix of sympathy and confusion within them. "Name and business?" Your throat is not only dry but also coated by anxiety, keeping any words from forming. Part of you even roars at the audacity. This is your time and this stranger has dared to take it from you. Your mouth opens and closes, creating words that will never be said due to fear that your blood will be the next to decorate the tip of the sword in their grasp. They seem to understand this and clear their throat, saying in a much softer voice, "I won't hurt you." They then sheathe their sword and raise their hands as they continue to examine you. "But I need to know if your crime fits the punishment. For there are few that come to mind." You croak out a response, still trembling due to sore muscles and a heart that still carries the dread of meeting its end, "my only crime is existing." The figure doesn't move for some time, and when they finally do, they are stepping away. "It's okay," they reassure, "I think one of the guards has a key on them." They shift and the barely concealed figure leaves, and you once again feel as if you're alone though you can hear their footsteps. Your trembling has yet to cease and try as you might to coax your heart to calm, it does not. The figure returns, the keys jingling in their hands as they get to work on your cage's lock. "You may be able to help me. What are you doing here?" "I ... I live here." "Oh, do they treat all of their residents like this?" You manage to let out a short, saddened chuckle, wondering how much different this life would be if there were more like you here. "I'm the only real resident here." Silence besides that of numerous keys being inserted and tested. "I see ... then you cannot help me." Despite not knowing this figure, you can hear the regret and saddened tone that enters their voice, and you feel yourself hoping that they do indeed find whatever or whoever they search for. A part of you even dares to ponder what it would be like to be their goal. To be anything more than a mere object to poke and prod at. "What's your name?" "$name." The keys clatter to the floor, but your rescuer does not retrieve them immediately. Their gaze seems to be stuck to the tiles, unwavering. They finally pick the keys back up, inserting them once again. When they find their voice, it is far shakier than before. "What ... what is your full name?" You frown but answer, "$name $surname." <a data-passage="0.17.1Nour"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The cell's lock clicks, and the door sways open on its own accord as the person looks up at you. Their golden eyes are haunted, watering as they take in your appearance. "$name?" they manage to choke out. Their shuddering grows worse, and as they attempt to stand, their knees give out, and they are back down. "No, no - not my $name? What did they do?" <<if $bruises>>Their eyes are centered on your face and you recall the beatings delieved unto you by the guards. As you make this realization, they seem to become even more distraught.<<else>>You stare at them in utter confusion. Ignoring their words, the sheer emotion in their voice alone screams that they know you. There is no other plausible reason. But you don't recognize them. Nothing about them seems familiar.<</if>> Tears race down their face, and they make no attempt to brush them away, bowing their head as they kneel before you. "What in Kiamet's name did they do?" That question reawakens something else in them, and as if something snapped, they are no longer whimpering. Their face goes blank as they rise to their feet. "I'll kill them all. They will beg for Sun's mercy by the time I'm done. I swear it." It feels odd that just a moment ago you openly dreamed of being the one they sought. And now that such a dream has stepped into the realm of reality, you find yourself more lost than before. "Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?" The question causes them to freeze, their previous anger seeming to dissipate as fast as it had come. Their eyes take you in as if awaiting the moment you will say that you are only kidding. No moment comes, and the longer they realize that there is no humor to your question, the more they seem to become disturbed. A heartbreaking look to add to an already watery-eyed expression. "What do you mean, who am I?" they ask. They grimace, closing their eyes as they take a deep breath in. "It's been years. A decade. It's foolish to believe you would recognize me." Shaking their head, they approach and begin to undo your chains, whispering to themselves that they need to keep it together. You rub at your raw wrists, happy to be free of the shackles for the second time in a matter of days. The person is about to speak but pause at the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. You have only heard such a noise one time, the one occasion you managed to escape. They spare you a glance that wavers between serious and worried, but then end on determined. "For now, come. We need to go." With you in tow, the two of you make it upstairs, and you take in the scene around you. Bodies are strewn around haphazardly, and blood begins to pool and settle around forms no longer moving. Two of them you recognize as the guards meant to watch your room. You continue on, the bodies only continuing on as you rush down one of the hallways. <a data-passage="0.18Nour"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Did you kill everyone here? Who are you?" you ask, finding your voice. Your insides are in turmoil, emotion after emotion pummeling the sides of your mind as you try to grasp onto at least one recent development that has happened. <<if $dungeon>>It did not help that the pain speeding through your back refuses to lessen. Each step only sees the lacerations ache more. <<if $notouchy or $nosa is false>>You slow, leaning onto the nearby wall as you attempt to gather your breath and energy. The man appears at your side and with a shake of his head, grabs your wrist, pulling you to your feet and shifting you around so that some of your weight is leaning on him.<</if>><</if>> "Look, we'll have time for pointless questions later," he takes a minute to mumble a curse and prayer to the skies, "but for now. <<if $dungeon>>Hush<<else>>Stay close and low<</if>>." You feel yourself getting closer to the main door before you see it. When you round the corner, you see them wide open, the wind revving up as it blows snow into the main hall. <<if $dungeon>>\ "A blizzard," you inform him, "we should stay in for the night." He blinks a few times before gazing over at you as if you had just grown two additional heads. "I found you in a cell, bleeding, and your first thought is to stay here?" You know it sounds crazy, but you know of the blizzards that ravages this place; he does not. Going out there is suicide, and only the prayers of it being a mild blizzard will dampen the threat. There are places you can hide, places that you are sure can become defensible seeing that he knows what he's doing. But he seems neither interested nor concerned and both of your attentions shift to the shouting of incoming guards. <<else>>\ "A blizzard," you inform him, "we should stay in for the night." He blinks a few times before gazing over at you as if you had just grown two additional heads. You know it sounds crazy, but you know of the blizzards that ravages this place; he does not. Going out there is suicide, and only the prayers of it being a mild blizzard will dampen the threat. There are places you can hide, places that you are sure can become defensible seeing that he knows what he's doing. But he seems neither interested nor concerned and both of your attentions shift to the shouting of incoming guards. <</if>>\ "They must've been truly comfortable. Their response time is atrocious," the man grumbles, <<if $dungeon>>releasing you<<else>>turning to you<</if>>. "Shift and follow me." The words by themselves are enough to cause your heart to pound and a cold sweat to sweep across your body. Shifting. Unfortunately, that word has become like a curse to your ears, a reminder of everything you are meant to be but is not. "I can't," you start, a lie as you have tried many times in the past and succeeded, though it's hard to forget what happened in the cell, <<if $dungeon>>"like you said, I'm weak and bleeding."<<else>>"it's too cold."<</if>> <a data-passage="0.18Ruben2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"We don't have time for this. Get on then." Unable to question him in time, he steps out into the incoming blizzard and begins to shift before your eyes. You watch as feet and arms become stout legs with sharpened talons existing on each end. His neck elongates, and his head morphs into that of a dragon's. Dark blood-colored scales cover pale skin, and though you aren't sure what happened to his clothes, you recognize familiar pieces covering him, shifting with his form. The guards are closing in, their steps faltering as they stare up at the massive beast, questioning how wise it is to engage. He pays little attention to them, gazing at you with impatience and open hostility. A step closer, and thoughts plague your mind, ramming into your memories in an attempt to be remembered first. You recall a small phoenix with burning wings as they crash to the ground — the pain, the blaring pain that settled onto bleeding organs and crumbling bones. You are without breath, the freezing wind drawing it from you and using it for its own selfish gain. You take an instinctive step back, your insides swearing that the last thing it will do is that. Never again. Never. Again. <a data-passage="0.18Ruben2.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The dragon is less than pleased with your indecisiveness, a gravelly growl rising from his throat as he peers at you. Before he can do anything to you, the guards move in. Some throw spears as others shift into beastly forms. He roars, batting at them with his paw and causing many to retreat with a swipe of his tail. A wall of flame appears between the dragon and the guards, causing all of them to retreat a few steps back to escape the harshness of the heat. Despite its ferocity, the blizzard swiftly mollifies it, the wind seeming to chuckle at the audacious attempt. <<if $dungeon>>\ He snatches you up and shoots into the sky, gaining momentum and distancing the two of you from the tower. His claws graze your back wounds and your heart begins to beat erratically. Not only does fear of being in the air flood through your being, but also the torment that pounds your back. You let out a scream but you don't remember doing anything more. Your body has had enough and your eyes drift closed as everything around you continues. <a data-passage="0.18.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ You should be filled with joy, relieved to finally be away from the place that held you captive for years. But fear permeates you, reminding you of your current predicament. It awakens a memory that you repressed more than even your first plunge from the sky — the memory of a child being dangled off the side of a balcony by an amused Laurens. You remember the multiple times he released you, and your body dipped over the railing, the ground seeming to advance closer with each careless yet purposeful action. Your screams only motivated the vile man. In his eyes were nothing but unmitigated delight. If he knew he could release you without any repercussions, then that was what he would do. [[Panic and fight.|0.18RFight][$anger +=1]] [[Cry and scream.|0.18RCry][$sad +=1]] [[Breathless … unfeeling.|0.18RNumb][$numb +=1]] <</if>>\
Your body descends into a frenzy of frantic emotion. You twist and panic, screaming to be heard over the squall to be released. A small part of you understands that means falling, the one thing you are trying to avoid, but your emotions have control of you now. You are but a mindless slave, bending to its will and whatever is deemed to be necessary. You punch and slap the dragon's claw, even thinking about biting him but choosing against it in the end. Despite this second thinking, you don't let up. And you hear a grumble emerge deep from within his belly as he flies on. <<include "0.18.1R">>
Clinging onto the dragon's leg for dear life, you clench your eyes closed as the wind strikes you repeatedly. No matter how many times you tell yourself you won't fall, you picture it happening. You imagine your body breaking into a million pieces, the guard smirking down at you hatefully. The colors merge together and die out, creating a cascading ripple of greys and blacks that lead into the emptiness. Your cheeks sting as the dampness of your tears are frozen to them. With each flap of his wings, you scream out, clinging harder as your heart threatens to jump from its cage and take flight. You want down. You want to feel the ground beneath you. <<include "0.18.1R">>
The wind seizes your breath, and an iciness unmatched by even the blizzard settles upon you. You stare at the ground with wide but empty eyes, your heart thudding fiercely, but it feels like it's miles away. Everything slows, and besides image after image appearing in your mind, you feel nothing. Parts of you scream and rage at the invader, shouting that you should react, that this is how you die. But you can't feel any fear, any anger, any sadness. Your body and soul separate, and you sit back, watching it with tired eyes. <<include "0.18.1R">>
<<if $dungeon>>\ Your eyes drift open and though the process is slow, you recall the memories of a few moments before. A rescuer, a rude one anyway, and the guards coming, the blizzard. You push yourself up, joyful to find land beneath you. You find the dragon, now a man once again, pacing the width of the cave as he rants aloud. "Great. Just fucking great. Not only am I trapped out here on Irisinth's forsaken mountain, but I'm with the only bird known to be afraid of fucking heights." <<else>>\ Land. You finally are reunited with it and in the shape of a cave, no less. You push yourself away from the towering dragon and huddle in the back, wrapping your arms around yourself as you attempt to hush your frightened heart. You feel so weak and defenseless. Like a child being tormented by an unseen monster and thus is cornered in their own room. The man finally shifts back, mumbling as he does so. "Great. Just fucking great. Not only am I trapped out here on Sun's forsaken mountain, but I'm with the only bird known to be afraid of fucking heights." <</if>>\ <<if $smart >=50>>\ "I'm right here," you bark. "Then let me continue," he yells back, "because not only are you afraid of heights, but apparently you're also fucking flightless and shiftless. I'm going to kill my d'uun!" <<else>>\ A small portion wishes to respond but you do not, your instincts telling you to stay silent. The last time you spoke and angered someone landed you in the dungeons far too soon. He continues, "I'm going to kill my d'uun!" <</if>>\ [[“I didn't ask to be saved by you.”][$ruben -=3; $smart +=3]] [[“You're an asshole.”][$ruben +=3; $smart +=5]] [[“Are you done?”|0.18RDone][$ruben -=5; $smart -=3]] [[Stay silent.|0.18.2R][$ruben +=5; $smart -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Derisive ++''</span><</if>> "I didn't ask to be saved by you." <<if $dungeon>>\ "Oh ho, look who finally decided to wake up. Had a nice nap?" "I fainted?" "You think." <<else>>\ "Of course, you didn't," he laughs, "and honestly. If I was slower, you would probably be in the company of someone who kisses the ground you walk on. I'm sure you remember your dear old griffin friend." "Who?" you question in confusion, having to think hard before remembering precisely who he speaks of, Nouritis. Your childhood friend, and if you are correct in assuming, the two of you were once arranged to be married. That ... that all feels like a lifetime ago. And in a way, it is. "Oh ho," he chuckles, "how I wish Nour was here right now. The look on their face would have made all of this immensely better." <</if>>\ <<include "0.18.2R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Derisive ++''</span><</if>> "You're an asshole," you tell him, confidently and without a hint of care for how he would take it. <<if $dungeon>>\ "Oh ho, look who finally decided to wake up. And such bright, colorful language too. Did your captors teach it to you or did you believe you came up with it on your own?" <<else>>\ He pouts mockingly, "did your captors teach you such words, or did you believe that you cleverly came up with such bright, colorful language on your own?" <</if>>\ "You continue to prove my point." <<include "0.18.2R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Careful ++''</span><</if>> <<if $dungeon>>"Are you done? Can we talk through this like mature people now?" You grit your teeth at another burst of pain, you are far too afraid to touch your back and discover what rests there. The laugh the man releases does nothing to inspire confidence within you.<<else>>"Are you done? Can we talk through this like mature people now?" The laugh he releases does nothing to inspire confidence within you.<</if>> It is far more probable that the two of you will continue to fight, long after you forget the reason why. <<include "0.18.2R">>
He turns away, "solutions. Solutions. I should've brought Draxmil. No. It wouldn't be able to get back, or can it find me … it wouldn't know where to look. Draconis knows amps don't possess even one navigational bone in their bodies. Deshir, she could find me. Can she track through snow, especially fresh snow? If she has my scent, she can … does she have anything of mine? Ugh!" He turns around and paces, shaking his head. "Do I even want them to find me? Toz will immediately say I told you so." He pauses and snarls in disgust, "perhaps this is better." He looks over at you. "No. No, it's not." <a data-passage="0.18Ruben2.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Straightening up and facing you entirely, he scratches his temple and mumbles something before speaking louder, "how about it, ?princess. How -" "$name." He pauses and furrows his brow questionably, "my name is $name. So stop calling me ?princess." "I'm more likely to say it now than before." "And yours?" "And my what?" <<if $smart >=50>>\ "Your name? Civilized people usually exchange such information." He snorts, "you, civilized? Sure, and I'm some majestic and chivalrous creature. Nor do I wish for my beautiful name to be sullied by coming out of your beak." <<else>>\ "Your name? I still don't know what to call you." He snorts, "don't worry about it." <</if>>\ [[Ignore him.|R0.18Ignore][$r_nn = "Ruben"]] [[“What is your problem!?”][$r_nn = "Ruben"; $smart +=3]] [[“Fine, I'll just give you one ... Scaley.”][$r_nn = "Scaley"]] [[“Guess I'll call you ... Birdie, then ...”][$r_nn = "Birdie"]]
He walks to one side of the cave, and you stay on the other, neither of you speaking anything more. You find yourself occasionally glancing over and noticing that he is staring off into space. Upon closer examination, you realize that steam is coming from him, turning tiny bits of snow that travel too close into puddles. So he's warming himself, a trait you can use right about now. <<if $dressed>>You have aptly changed into clothes that can shield you from the chill, but you never really escaped it, especially now that your adrenaline is in descent and you are sitting in one place.<<elseif $dungeon>>Seeing that you haven't had a chance to change into your nightclothes, you are still dressed in clothes that can provide at least some resistance to the weather. Though they are now sullied by Lauren's rage and your own blood.<<else>>You are wearing your nightclothes, clothes that aren't appallingly inappropriate but are no help against an entire blizzard. The chances of you freezing to death are far greater than any other kind of demise.<</if>> [[Ask to sit beside him.][$charisma +=3; $ruben +=3]] [[Try and sleep.][$force +=3; $ruben -=3]] [[Move in closer.][$stealth +=3; $ruben -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Derisive ++''</span><</if>> "My beak? What is your problem? I didn't do anything to you, and yet you refuse to treat me with any kind of decency. I didn't tell you to come and save me or whatever you wish to call it. All of this has been done on your own accord." <<if hasVisited("0.18RDone")>>"Are you done," he questions, mimicking you from earlier, "can we talk through this like mature people now?" He rolls his eyes.<<else>>"Are you done, or is there more you wish to get off your back?" Before you can respond, he raises his hand, "do so quietly. Your voice grates my nerves."<</if>> <<include "R0.18Ignore">>
"Fine, I'll just call you Scaley then." "I've been called worse." Though his words claim the nickname doesn't bother him, you can see his eye twitch and his jaw tighten. You hit a chord, and though it is but a small and trivial victory, it is a victory nevertheless. <<include "R0.18Ignore">>
"Guess I'll just call you ... Birdie, then ..." The word strikes you harder than you initially believed it would, and you suppress a shudder. He turns to you sharply, his eye twitching irritably, "you wouldn't dare." "Birdie," you draw out, tasting every syllable before giving it its freedom. To be the speaker of that word now, the one who controls it. It fills you with a kind of power that feels wrong and foreign. The dragon says nothing more, an obvious chord having been struck, and though it is small and trivial, it is a victory nevertheless. <<include "R0.18Ignore">>
<<if $r_nn is not "Ruben">>Not wishing to anger him further by using the nickname you've given him, you decide to just clear your throat loud enough to acquire his attention.<<else>>Not knowing his name makes capturing his attention a touch more complicated than need be. You aren't about to give him an honorific either, though you suppose calling him dragon will do. No, instead, you decide to simply clear your throat loud enough to acquire his attention.<</if>> He doesn't react, still focused on whatever he is doing. "May I sit beside you? It's … cold." The steam disappears as he picks up his head and looks at you, "you're serious? Aren't you?" Unsure how to respond, you continue to stare. "You're a living, breathing phoenix, and you're asking me for heat? If anything, I should be attempting to sit next to you. You //are// flames." Continuing not to respond, he regards you as some broken toy that he finds discarded along his path. He sighs, "fine. Whatever." With that said, he goes back to what his earlier actions, the steam slowly coming back. The warmth moves in, cuddling up against you, singing you to sleep. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Despite how much you crave to be closer to feel even a tinge of warmth, you stay where you are. You aren't about to speak to him, and you certainly don't want to be closer. <<if $nosa>>You cuddle into a ball and breathe in your hands.<<else>>The travesties that have befallen you are fresh on your mind. The last thing you wish is to be near anyone. You cuddle into a ball and breathe in your hands.<</if>> After that fails to work, you place your hands underneath your armpits and close your eyes. You feel as if sleep will evade you due to all the questions in your head and the chill settling on your form. But after silencing your thoughts and ignoring the chattering of your teeth, you manage to drift off. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You watch him, wondering just how fixated he is at the moment. Wishing to test your theory before moving any closer, you pick up a nearby rock and toss it away. You lay down and glance over but see no change in his focus. He hardly even twitches. You stretch out and shift your positioning so that it is easier to move along the floor. Inch by inch, you get closer, only stopping when you can feel the fringes of his heat hit your feet. With at least a small victory now in your grasp, you close your eyes and hope that sleep will come and take you. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"What happened? Did you do all of this?" you ask, glancing back and forth at those that lie on the ground, unmoving. It is hard to imagine that one person has done this, alone and hardly armed at that. "Just keep moving." "Answer me." The order finds her falling silent, saying nothing more as she continues to traverse the multiple halls until you find yourself at the main entrance. If she is capable of this on her own against multiple opponents, what can she do to one whose combat skills rival that of how much they have seen of the outside world? You have already seen that your fire, strangely enough, does not deter her as it should. She is dangerous and you do not quite know what to do with this information yet. The doors are open but separating the two of you from freedom is a group of guards questioning is was going on and where the infiltrator may be. You find that they hardly agree on anything besides the fact that whoever has broken into the tower is after you. And at least that much is right. You glance at the face of the woman whose goal you are still unsure of, her eyes on the opposing wall and her brow furrowed. <<if $tower >=50>>You will not say it aloud but you wish to go to the guard's side, to make them aware that you are here and for them to march you back towards your room. What will become of this woman, you know not. But that does not seem like your problem.<</if>> "When I say shift, I need you to shift," she whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. Your eyes widen, and without a second thought, you shake your head to decline. Though she does not verbally question your reaction, she gives you a glare intense enough to make you want to turn and head back to the safety of your room. "Fine," she growls, and you see her fingers flex as they reach for her secured weapon. Her foot taps, and with her eyes closed, she begins to say a series of words in a language foreign to your ears. They are rhythmical in nature, sounding like they belong to a berceuse. And then she acts. Her body shoots forward, and she presents herself to those that stand between you and the way out. Weapon in hand, she unfurls it and you watch as the whip lashes out at the first person it strikes. It savagely attacks them, and they fall to the ground, though you note that their still moving body proves that they are still drawing air. The others move in, attempting to overpower her but fearing close proximity due to her whip's reach. This reluctance proves to be their downfall, and in little time, the last two guards are brought to their knees. <a data-passage="0.18Ozara1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Before you can react, she is once again by your side, dragging you to the doors and out. "There, at the main doors!" you hear a distant guard shout. "Get on!" she shouts, and you turn just in time to see her shift. Her legs and arms shift into longer, muscular, though nimble legs. Two broad, porcelain and sapphire feathered wings sprout from her back as her entire body finishes morphing into that of a pegasus. She paces before you uneasily, an action that tells you to come, but your eyes are still on her wings, fear keeping you from moving. The world around you seems to freeze as memories of your last flight come to mind. A darkening sky, ash falling down around you, your body clinging to the last bits of life as you feel yourself drift into the realm of the spirits. You are brought back to the present only when the sound of shouting reaches you, and the whizzing of an arrow flies past you. Your rescuer has had enough as well, rudely pushing you to where you have no choice but to either fall or cling to her neck and mane. As soon as this is done, she canters towards the exit, and you frantically attempt to mount her. You're still in the middle of doing this when you feel your feet no longer touching the ground. The air freezes, turning your body colder than it has ever been. Your mind though racing, feels like it has stopped on this one event. This one action seems to be the center of your world. You revolve around it. Your muscles clench, and though you know deep inside that you are not falling, you believe you are. Everything within you believes that every nightmare has come to life. [[Thrash and fight.|0.17OFight]] [[Freak out and scream.|0.17OScream]] [[Accept this.|0.17ONumb]]
Your body descends into a frenzy of frantic emotion. You twist and panic, screaming to be heard over your own thoughts. You were but a mindless slave, bending to its will and whatever is deemed to be necessary. Thankfully, it doesn't last long, and your feet once again touch the ground. It takes some time, but your franticness dims, and you are once again aware of where and who you are, as well as who bore the brunt of your attack. The pegasus eyes you with unmistakable rage, but the sounds of shouting tell you that you did not get far. <<include "0.17Ozara2">>
You clench your eyes closed as the wind strikes you, and you scream. No matter how many times you tell yourself you won't fall, you picture it happening. You imagine your body breaking into a million pieces, the faces of strangers gazing down at you in pity. The colors merge together and die out, creating a cascading ripple of greys and blacks that lead into the emptiness. Your cheeks sting as the dampness of your tears are frozen to them. Your screams continue to ring out, and you realize that you've released your grip on the horse and were now falling. Thankfully, you are not far from the ground, and the landing is hardly more than a soft thump. It takes some time, but your franticness dims, and you are once again aware of where and who you are, as well as who bore the brunt of your attack. The pegasus eyes you with unmistakable rage, but the sounds of shouting tell you that you did not get far. <<include "0.17Ozara2">>
You stare at the distancing ground with wide but empty eyes, your heart thudding fiercely, but it feels like it's miles away. Everything slows, and besides image after image appearing in your mind, you feel nothing. Parts of you scream and rage at the invader, shouting that you should react, that this was how you died. But you can't feel any fear, any anger, any sadness. Your body and soul separate, and you sit back, watching it with tired eyes. This proves to be detrimental as your dead weight and reluctance to right yourself brings both of you crashing back down to the ground. It takes some time, but you start to feel like yourself again, no longer a shell void of emotions and thoughts. You glance over at the pegasus to see unmistakable rage residing in her eyes, but the sounds of shouting tell you that you did not get far. <<include "0.17Ozara2">>
<<if $tower >=50>>You freeze and doubt once more, your bewilderment showing in your actions. Your sense of preservation tells you to join her but everything else says to go back to the guards. She lets out a deep neigh and only then do you move.<<else>>This time, you do not freeze or doubt.<</if>> You move to jump onto the winged horse's back, intertwining your fingers through her mane as she takes off. The shouting doesn't quiet, but her galloping brings you farther away from the tower. For a second, you believe you <<if $tower >=50>>got away<<else>>are free<</if>>, and then an arrow shoots past and plants itself into her wing. You watch the startling scene unfold, watching as it pierces her wing and then feeling her stumble as she is first slammed by the shock and then by fear. Instinctively, her wings expand as if to fly, but it only adds to imbalance, and she trips, but this time she crashes. You're thrown off her back, skidding across the not yet hardened snow and watching as she goes even further, squealing and snorting lowly as she tries to right herself. "Are you okay?" you question, but she jerks away from your touch. Your attention is then brought to those following after you. Your pursuers have all shifted and are now gaining. The pegasus nudges you and gets to her feet, urging you to come on. Doubt fills your mind, but you dare not linger. You mount, and she once again takes off into a gallop, her injured wing hanging limply as blood trickles down from the wound. But she pushes on, nothing about her actions revealing that she has just suffered what can be a crucial lesion. <a data-passage="0.17Ozara3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The scenery shifts as you head downhill, and you spot a sizable lake nearby, but it's the figure standing near it that grabs your attention. The woman only slowing down until you make it to the figure. "Had fun, I see," they snort, gently taking the injured wing in their hand. They shoo you off her back, and before you are entirely off, she shifts back into her humanoid form, gritting her teeth as her legs shake profusely. The arrow is still lodged into her shoulder blade. They attempt to hold her, but she fights them off, earning a sharp whack across the head. <<if $tower >=50>>You rub soothing circles along your forehead and close your eyes, fighting off a pulsing headache that is definitely a result of all of this excitement. Between the adrenaline and the actual events, you don't know what to think or expect.<</if>> "Stop being so proud." They look over at you, "mind giving me a hand, or are you just going to stand there?" <<if $tower <50>>\ [[“What about the guards?”]] <</if>>\ [[“Yes, of course.”][$trio +=2]] [[Stand there.|0.17OStand][$trio -=2]]
"Shouldn't we be dealing with the guards?" you question, turning to see them still approaching. If these two don't do something quick, then they will be upon you, and there will be nothing any of you can do. You doubt Fennore will be as merciful as last time. Especially since strangers have been thrown into the mix. "We, they say," the person chuckles, tripping the woman so that she falls into their arms. "We have it all under control. How about you focus on helping me get this arrow out of my best friend's back since you're the reason it's there." You open your mouth to challenge that but decide not to, especially since these are your rescuers and none of them seem exactly unskilled. <<include "0.17Ozara4">>
"Yes, of course," you reply, shaking your head and moving forward to offer your assistance. <<include "0.17Ozara4">>
You continue to stand there, much to the figure's annoyance, who throws a questioning look at the woman. She is in too much pain to catch the glance or reply. "Alright, not asking now. Get over here and lend a hand before I personally deliver you back to the guards." <<if $tower >=50>>"You say that as if it is a threat. I did not ask to be kidnapped in such a way." The spark in their eyes dim as they look at you in shock. Before they can question though, you move to their side.<<else>>"You wouldn't," you test, and the spark that appears in their eyes tells you that they very much would.<</if>> <<include "0.17Ozara4">>
With your help, you lie her down and the newest figure glances over the wound. They mumble something incoherently before grabbing the arrow shaft and yanking it out with hardly any consideration for their victim. In result, the woman cries out, clenching her eyes closed as she attempts to move away. "Oh, stop being such a baby," they chuckle. Clenching her teeth and glaring at the ground, she says, "allow me to shoot you in the rump and gauge your reaction." "You just want a reason to mess with my ass," they snort. Their face turns serious, "are you ready for me to cauterize it?" <a data-passage="0.17Ozara4.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"What?" you question, "what does that mean?" "It's when you burn skin to close a wound up. It keeps it from getting infected and helps the person not bleed out." "Yes," the woman groans, "and it is also harmful and damaging." "I've cauterized plenty of my own wounds, nothing is damaged about me." "Besides your brain it would seem." Your attention is pulled away from the squabbling duo and to the now approaching guards, only to shift to the water and the low-lying fog that originates from it. You then hear a sweet, lulling sound and feel yourself wishing to get closer. "Hey!" the person aiding the woman snaps at you and brings your attention back to them, "don't look at them unless you want to share their fate." "What fate?" "Death by drowning," they chuckle. Though you wish to see how this is possible with your own eyes, the figure calling forth a fireball is what wins your attention. The fire coats their hand much like a glove, and they press it to the woman's wound. To your amazement, she holds her scream in. Only clenching her eyes closed as the smell of burning flesh reaches your nose, causing you to recoil. "How are you doing? Think you're going to live?" The woman faintly speaks, laying her head on their lap as her eyes begin to drift close, her adrenaline weakening her until her body fully decides to give up its fight. <a data-passage="0.17Ozara5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Is she alive?" you question, your attention going to movement by the shore. You notice that the guards have disappeared, not one of them within sight any longer. Instead, a lone figure leaves the area behind, her long green-shaded hair dripping with water as she approaches you. Her eyes are black, just barely matching the color of her pupils and therefore hiding them. The one who lit their hand on fire gazes up at her, "we should move her and get out of view of any more guards that pass by." "The cave nearby." You open your mouth, and they both turn to you, the figure speaking first, "and there we will answer some of your questions. Some. I'm tired, and my heart hurts from worry." "Aww, remind me to tell her you said that once she rises." "You do that, and I'll burn you, you hag," they joke back, walking on, both behaving as if you aren't even there. They are an interesting trio, and as you follow them, you roughly put together the team dynamic they seem to have. But your mind does not last long on that. It doesn't seem as important as the other revelations that have shown themselves. <<if $tower >=50>>You are out of the tower and that thought brings fear. What will happen? What will Fennore think when she learns of this development?<<else>>You are free, or you hope you are anyway. For all you know these people can be as bad as Fennore says, even more so since one took an arrow helping to get you to safety.<</if>> <a data-passage="0.17Ozara6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You notice the cave, and the three of you enter. Placing space between you and them, you head to the far back, keeping a watchful eye on them. "Hey, Algae," the figure who controlled fire before speaks up, "mind tearing off some of your hair for a fire?" "Go drown in a lake." They chuckle, glancing up to meet your eye and cocking their head to the side. "So, you're it, huh?" "I was thinking the same," the woman murmurs. [[“You're not much either.”|0.17OMuchEither]] [[“I guess so.”|0.17OGuess]] [[“What do you mean?”|0.17OWhat]]
"You're not much either." "Not much of what?" she questions, raising a brow as she regards you with low sympathy. "Much of a rescue. If that's what you guys even are." <<if $tower >=50>>You didn't want this, this is kidnapping. But one look at those surrounding you tell you to keep that particular thought to yourself.<</if>> "You'd rather be saved by a dragon with an attitude or a griffin who cries themselves to sleep every night then?" the one from earlier asks. You're not sure what they speak of, but the way the two exchange glances, you believe that it is an inside joke. <<include "0.17Ozara7">>
"I guess so." The two exchange looks, communicating with their eyes and facial tics so subtle that you only pick up a few. <<include "0.17Ozara7">>
"What do you mean?" "Exactly what it sounds like," the person sighs, stretching their back out before rolling their head around. "I don't know what we expected, but," they shake their head, "you weren't it." <<include "0.17Ozara7">>
"Can someone just tell me what's going on?" "I'm Auri," they say as they point to themselves, "he, if you don't mind. That's Rivenee. And our passed-out friend here, the one who took an arrow in the wing, back, whatever you want to claim, is Ozara. Both women. We're from House Pegasus." You recall Fennore speaking vaguely of them, never seeming to have an issue with the house and instead always seemed to take on an admiring air for them. "How do you like to be addressed anyway?" "Um ... ?he, please." Rivenee purrs and nods, "and you," or at least her accent makes it sounds as if such an action is happening, "are Heir Phoenix, missing for fifteen years." She's about to continue on when Auri motions for her to stop, shaking his head as he relaxes and moves Ozara so that her head rests on his leg. "Anything else can be answered or discussed tomorrow. It's cold, and I need to focus on warming Ozara up." He nods to a small space nearby, "if you need heat, you might want to move a bit closer too." "They're a phoenix," Rivenee points out. "That's been stuck in freezing temperatures for fifteen years," Auri replies in a way that causes Rivenee's frown to darken, "trust me, I know how fire creatures handle the cold." "Then how <<verb "is">> ?he still alive? Especially when you can barely do anything in this temperature?" Auri's mouth opens but then closes, proving that he has no idea. In fact, you don't know either. Fennore never explained it and you simply began to believe the tower to be enchanted. [[Accept the invitation.|0.17OAcceptInvite][$heart +=5; $leery -=5]] [[Stay where you are.|0.17OStay][$heart -=5; $leery +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Naive ++ | Heart ++''</span><</if>> You nod and move closer to the trio, keeping enough distance to not cause any of them discomfort but still close enough to feel the benefits of Auri's heat. It is strange to feel another's heat. Even more so, someone who knows how to truly manipualte it. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch them. The three of them look comfortable, telling you that they have perhaps known each other for years. You once knew someone like that, a griffin from your past who was to be your intended. You had practically grown up together, and though you are unsure of how you feel about all of it now, the companionship is something that you find yourself missing. Placing your head against the wall, you close your eyes—the last of your adrenaline pushing you to rest. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Leery ++ | Mind ++''</span><</if>> You choose to stay where you are, far too guarded and untrusting of these three strangers. They don't seem to mind and keep to themselves. Like Auri said, he closes his eyes and begins to focus, steam slowly rolling off of him as Rivenee moves in closer. The three of them look comfortable, telling you that they have perhaps known each other for years. You once knew someone like that, a griffin from your past who was to be your intended. You had practically grown up together, and though you are unsure of how you feel about all of it now, the companionship is something that you find yourself missing. Placing your head against the wall, you close your eyes—the last of your adrenaline pushing you to rest. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Did … did you kill everyone here?" you question. It feels like a silly question, especially since you can see the open wounds resting on those slain, and each of them lies in a puddle of their own blood. "Do not focus on them," they say in a more protective than sarcastic or condescending tone. They reach out and grab your hand, continuing to lead you down the halls. For a moment, your mind pushes the dark scene away as you focus on the stranger's grip on your hand. So many thoughts rush through your head. The understanding that Tyrae's work hasn't yet worn off and caused the pain to return, the warmth that this person's hand causes to spread through you, the feeling of another's hand in yours. But then they release your hand and you are thrust back into the world, into the tower. Who is this, and why do they seem to speak to you as if the two of you are acquainted? Why did their touch bring such warmth to your mind? And even more, why did it feel like their hand had been made to compliment yours? "Ser," two soldiers say in unison upon spotting the two of you and pulling you out of thoughts you begin to deem dangerous. You are beginning to let deep-seated desires get the best of you. You do not know who these people are or what connection they believe you share. "Report," the figure with you says, motioning for you to stop as they join the two newest figures. <a data-passage="0.18Nour1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
They stand beside their leader and answer, "archers on the battlements waiting for us. Reinforcements on the way. Xeno waits for your command before moving in." The person stays quiet for a tick longer before nodding. "Cover us with your bows. Once we're clear, follow behind." Both soldiers nod and get their weapons ready as your rescuer turns to you, "I need you to listen to me carefully. As soon as we're free of here, I'll answer all your questions ... and I need you to answer some of mine as well. Okay?" You nod. "I'm going to shift into my griffin form, and I'll fly us to safety." You shake your head. "You wish to shift?" Again, you shake your head, shivering though not due to the cold that awaits you on the other side of these doors. You can shift. It's something that you have done on your own and been forced into doing since the accident. But flying … flying is out of the question. You can not sustain your wings, and the idea alone always causes you to freeze up as it brings back blurry memories of a small phoenix falling from the sky. You have always been grateful that at most, those memories are obscure. You have gathered enough trauma from what you have seen, you much rather leave it be. For all you know, agreeing to this may deliver the memory to you wholly. The person growls, shaking their head as they look you over, and then their face softens. They sigh with a nod, "I'll shift, and you'll be with me, but we'll stick to the ground. Okay?" [[Just nod.|0.18NNod][$nour +=3]] [[Thank them.|0.18NThank][$nour -=3]]
You nod your head, ready to do what they ask. You're still unsure how you should react to this person, and those that they have come with. You wish to hope that they're on your side. That they want to help and you will find yourself safe. But part of you is still distrusting, and the idea that you may be trading one prison in for another is continuously seeping into your thoughts. <<include "0.18Nour2">>
They're about to turn around when you clear your throat, catching their attention. "Um … thank you. For understanding, I mean." Their golden eyes soften so much that you believe that for just a second, everything feels safe and warm. The stars are shining, and the clouds have parted from the sky. The winds have lessened, and if even for a short time, the world and those occupying it are at peace. Then they gaze away, and everything shatters, bringing you back to the now and back to the horror that this life holds. And as the previous feeling lessens, part of you wishes to be once again taken away by the power of this stranger's gaze. <<include "0.18Nour2">>
They nod to the two soldiers, and with eased coordination, they open the doors and rush out. The person with you begins to shift, their smooth skin shifting into short, tan fur and their legs morphing to become shorter but far more muscular than their humanoid version. A griffin stands before you, and they peer at you with the same kind, golden eyes as before. They gesture for you to come, but you find yourself unsure if you trust them or not. [[Trust them.|0.18NTrust][$nour -=5; $trust +=5]] [[Don't trust them.|0.18NDontTrust][$nour +=5; $trust -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Trust ++</span><</if>> You nod and move forward, <<if $height is "short" or $height is "very short">>attempting to mount the newly shifted griffin but struggling. Realizing your dilemma, they kneel, glancing back at you almost as if smirking.<<elseif $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>mounting the griffin easily and having to situate yourself until comfortable.<<else>>climbing onto their back and situating yourself so that you aren't impending any of their movements.<</if>> Slowly, your hands move and bury themselves in their soft light brown fur and you ponder if this would burn you. How many times will you get a chance such as this, especially now that you are abandoning the tower? As soon as you stop moving, they shoot forward, taking off into the arctic weather and shooting past the two soldiers shooting those on the battlements. You keep your head down and close your eyes as if such an action will help. The mountain wind muffles the noise of those around you, casting an eerie scene. Men and women falling but making no sounds, people screaming but their words sounding more like whispers, and arrows speeding towards their target on silent wings. You focus on their fur, the silken touch of the strands. It somehow calms you, almost causing you to forget the chaos that unfolds. Soon, it is all behind you. The longer the griffin runs, the more you fail to grasp your circumstance. You are no longer in the tower. No longer in your bed and in your room which is always under guard. No, you are now making your way to some foreign place on the back of a stranger. This is not the first time the harsh wind has vehemently met you, but it is the first time that you do not shy away from it. Where the wind feels almost like a war cry and not a boorish jab at your circumstances. The griffin doesn't slow down, continuing their canter until you come across a small cave where two others stand. <a data-passage="0.18Nour3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Doubt ++</span><</if>> You take a dubious step back as you look from the stranger to their soldiers who are now fighting. "Ser!" one of them screams, and with an almost apologetic-like glance, the griffin lunges and swipes you up into their grip. You shriek as they fly out of the building, pumping their wings to put as much space between you and the building that lies behind you. "No!" you shout in fear, "you said you'd run." [[Fight them.|0.18NFight][$anger +=1]] [[Scream and thrash.|0.18NScream][$sad +=1]] [[Go limp.|0.18NLimp][$numb +=1]]
Your body descends into a frenzy of frantic emotion. You twist and panic, screaming to be heard over the squall. A small part of you understands that means falling, the one thing you are trying to avoid, but your emotions have control of you now. You are but a mindless slave, bending to its will and whatever is deems to be necessary. You punch and kick until your actions finally seem to work, and you land, the griffin releasing you and turning to look at you with a mix of shock and sorrow. You find yourself in a small cave, but your attention is on the person before you. "You lied!" you shout just as they shift back, taking note that their clothes have shifted with them, not one item out of place. Your anger refuses to quell, and you charge towards them, ready to attack like prey that has remembered that they do indeed have claws. "I'm sorry, $name," they begin, grabbing your wrists to stop your advance, "we needed to get out of there and your indecisiveness was something that we couldn't afford." Despite the truth in their words, you refuse to let up, continuing to fight against their hold until they finally release you. This feeling of betrayal is one that you are all too familiar with. It would appear that those outside the tower's walls will be no different than those within. You tell yourself not to think such a thing, let them prove themselves first. <a data-passage="0.18Nour3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Clinging onto them, you clench your eyes closed as the wind strikes you repeatedly. No matter how many times you tell yourself you won't fall, you picture it happening. You imagine your body breaking into a dozen pieces. The colors merge together then die out, creating a cascading ripple of greys and blacks that lead into emptiness. Your cheeks sting as the dampness of your tears freeze to them. You release a scream that is stolen and carried off by the wind, and your body goes into a state of panic, thrashing and pleading for someone to hear. Why does no one ever listen to you? Why is it that no matter how much you beg, your words are tossed away like trash. Thankfully, you are soon set down, and you collapse, struggling to regain your breath as the world takes its time righting itself. "You lied!" you scream at the figure as they shift back into their regular form, taking note that their clothes have shifted with them. "Why did you lie?" Why do they always lie? You find yourself in a small cave, bits of snow managing to breach the entrance but otherwise you are safe from the winds of the blizzard. "I'm sorry," they whisper, taking a step towards you before thinking twice and taking two more back, "but we needed to get out of there and your indecisiveness was something that we couldn't afford." Luckily, you don't have the energy to feel anything. This feeling of betrayal is one that you are all too familiar with. It would appear that those outside the tower's walls will be no different than those within. You tell yourself not to think such a thing, let them prove themselves first. <a data-passage="0.18Nour3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
One minute you're ready to thrash and fight, to yell at the person for lying to you, and the next, you feel the emotion drain from your body. You feel like a canister with holes poked throughout, no longer capable of holding anything. Staring at the ground with wide but empty eyes, your heart thuds fiercely, but it feels like it's miles away. Everything slows, and regardless of the multiple images appearing in your mind, you feel nothing. Parts of you scream and rage at this feeling, shouting that you should react, that this is how you die. But you can't feel any fear, any anger, any sadness. Your body and soul separate, and you sit back, watching it with tired eyes. A few seconds later, the ground is back underneath your feet, and you inhale and exhale as if just now you remembered how to breathe. You now stand at the mouth of a small cave, but you pay little attention to this. Your glance falling on the person you once deemed your rescuer, their title slowly morphing into liar. "I'm sorry, $name," they begin, "but we needed to get out of there, and your indecisiveness was something that we couldn't afford." Luckily, you don't have the energy to feel anything. This feeling of betrayal is one that you are all too familiar with. It would appear that those outside the tower's walls will be no different than those within. You tell yourself not to think such a thing, let them prove themselves first. <a data-passage="0.18Nour3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Hopefully, Xeno and the other two will be with us soon. They covered us, so they might be trying to lead them away before returning. $name," they clear their throat and nod to the two figures in front of you, "this is Spiros and Idreialis, two soldiers under my direct command." Only a few things that they've said make sense to you, primarily due to the fact that you didn't know who any of them are and why they have come to your rescue. Your expression must have exhibited as much as the figure's easy smile vanishes. "You have a lot of questions, I'm sure. First, what exactly do you remember?" "If you mean of the outside world, not much. Just that I'm a phoenix. I am … was the heir, and then after a bad crash, my parents sent me away." The two soldiers exchange glances. The leader seems to lean in before asking, "and me? You don't remember me?" "No." A flash of hurt appears in their eyes, followed by confusion. "Nothing? How? It wasn't as if we were simple acquaintances. We were -" they choke on their own words and glance away. Attempting to rein in emotions that you do not feel. "The name Nouritis – Nour – does it mean nothing to you?" [[“How many times must I say no?”][$nour +=3]] [[“I'm sorry.”|0.18NImSorry][$nour -=3]] [[Shake your head.|0.18NShakeHead]]
"How many times must I tell you no?" you question, your voice raising, thick with emotion. Nouritis visibly shrinks, staring at the ground as if reeling from a strike that never came. "I … it doesn't matter," they finally say, followed by a deep sigh. <<include "0.18Nour4">>
"I'm sorry," you manage to say, struggling to place their face to any memory that you still retained, "but I don't know you or remember you and -" Nour holds up their hand, eliciting a pause from you. "It's fine," they whimper, confirming that it wasn't, "please, just stop saying it." <<include "0.18Nour4">>
You shake your head, an action you feel has been done far too many times to count today. Closing your eyes, you try to arouse the memory that they seem to speak of. Anything. But nothing. You feel as if you would remember such kind eyes. And a name such as theirs, it is impossible to forget one so anomalous. Nour nods. <<include "0.18Nour4">>
"I'm Nouritis Gryps of House Griffin, many simply call me Nour, and it's," they close their eyes and continue speaking, "it's fine if you call me that as well. I'm <<link 'kě'ěb'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Jawsīc'>> found in the Jawsīc language. The gender term used to describe those without a gender. Directly translates into 'gender none'.<</dialog>><</link>> now." "Do you still use ?he for yourself?" You nod and they give you a simplistic smile that vanishes all too soon afterwards. One of the soldiers speak up immediately after, continuing the explanation, "we were sent by House Phoenix to find and bring you back." You look for but struggle to catch a glimpse of Nour, who has decided to hide behind their soldiers. <a data-passage="0.18Nour5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You and Nour were to -," they continue, but are silenced by a harsh tsk from Nour. You wish to continue questioning them to further understand what has happened and perhaps figure out what has become of your memories. You know Watcher Tyrae is to blame, her wicked laughter ringing through your mind. The feeling of her magic crawling over you, infecting you and rendering you numb. You stumble, caught by one of the soldiers whose name you haven't bothered to remember quite yet. Or at least you believed it to be one of them at first. When you glance behind you, Nour is helping to right you, avoiding your gaze. Instinctively, you pull yourself away from their grip. You feel no pain, yet ... but you are just so used to shying away from others, anticpating what is to come. When is the last time you felt someones touch and not recoil? Your eyes wander down to your hands and absentmindedly they cling to one another. It matters little anyway. Not understanding why you tore yourself away, Nour seems even more hurt than before and begins to back away. "You should take it easy and lie down," they whisper, "the constant adrenaline rushes are starting to catch up to you." They lead you to a spot covered in furs, making sure you are okay before returning to the two soldiers. They whisper, casting glances in your direction, glances that you feel are familiar. Your mind struggles to grasp onto a broken body, lying on the ground as spectators move in. Their words, just like the soldier's, aren't for your ears, but they concern you. The thought fades, and your consciousness meekly follows. <a data-passage="0End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $route_ruben>>\ <img src="images/divider.png"> It's cold. There's no reason for it to be this cold. Out of all places to hide the ?prince, why couldn’t they have done so on the beach? In fact, ?his captors are lacking in more than just the response field. Phoenix territory rests on the northwestern side of the land, but it isn’t //that// far away. If he was going to kidnap someone, he would have traveled farther south; the condensed jungles navigated with ease by the basilisks alone. Unless ... He cocks his head to the side as he glances over at the heir. Unless ?his parents indeed wished to be rid of ?him. He had heard nothing but rumors concerning both the heir’s fall and supposed kidnap. He hadn’t really cared much to engage in petty conversation, not when he had people to feed and lead. What business regarding the Phoenixes has anything to do with him? <<if $dungeon>>\ He has spoken little of the sight, but he sees the blood that pushes against ?his clothing. His glance falls to his hands where ?her blood now lies dried. Not enough to cause him to worry over the possibility of the phoenix losing too much blood, but something he will have to keep his eye on until they find his clan. A dungeon. Beaten and whipped and who knows what else, but alive. What? <<verb 'Was'>> ?he just some toy for them to play with? A prisoner whose sole purpose is to entertain ?her_ captives? It doesn't make sense to him. Had it been anyone else, then his heart would scream for them. But he feels conflicted, not being able to say that he believed House Phoenix deserved anything less. But did ?he? If his knowledge about the heir is correct, ?he <<verb 'was'>> taken at far too young an age to be blamed for anything. He snorts. That can be said of him, and yet ... <</if>>\ <a data-passage="EndR1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $route_ozara>>\ <img src="images/divider.png"> With a groan and a few muscle cracks, Ozara sits up, reorienting herself with the area around her. She had been lying on Auri's leg and couldn't help but be thankful for waking up before him. Otherwise, she would never hear the end of it. Rivenee rests on the other side, and there is a third figure. At first, Ozara doesn't recognize the person, but the previous day's events come rushing back along with the numbing pain in her back. Yes, all of that did happen. She found the long-lost heir. She didn't hear much about the heir before all of this started. From what she can recall, the heir is an only child and is supposed to be some talented and impervious force—the beacon of the phoenixes and a sign of great things to come. Ozara fails to see the truth of any of that. It all sounds like proper propaganda to her. What is the use of foretelling such grandness anyway if this is a possibility? Was this foretold and simply not spoken of? She scratches her head, shaking the chill of the winter's air away. When is the last time she saw snow? Her memory doesn't seem to go back far enough to recall despite Tishfai's tendency to sometimes deliver the wintry scape. And how does a phoenix, a creature of fire, survive here? She was prepared to come across a corpse, not a living creature. And why did they refuse to shift when she asked them too? The look that had appeared on their face was not one she usually saw. Were they a runt and frightened to simply say? Something isn't right. Nothing about this sits well with her, and that alone almost pushes her to wake the others and abandon the heir. //You're putting them in danger//, her thoughts hiss, //when does the life of one not your own outweigh those you not only call your people but your friends.// She shushes the voice, refusing to embrace dark thoughts that are unnaturally warm and shockingly truthful. She's unsure how the heir feels about this but perhaps that is due to them not having the full picture. But did she? The most she knew about this subject is that an heir has been lost and that their parents wished for their swift return. Something shifts inside of her. The idea of all of this being some convenient lie to house power. //You can cripple a house. Cripple the phoenixes in one expert swoop. All of this decided and done with. At the very least, think of your people.// Her eyes once again land on the heir. And once again, she closes her eyes to do away with the dark thoughts that cling onto her as tightly as her skin. She will see this through, simply because this is the right thing to do. Not only to begin correcting the sins of the past, but because no one deserves this fate. A fate of snow and chill against their will. Her goal remains the same. Her eyes travel back to the ?prince, and she grimaces. "You better be worth it." <a data-passage="0EndOzara"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <img src="images/divider.png"> Nour is looking at nothing in particular, a few loose stones and some snow that found its way past the entrance of the cave and into the more dryer part. Their thoughts are far in the past, blithely skipping from one cherished memory to another. Each hold a myriad of emotions and feelings that, to this day, they have never honestly forgotten. Like a library, no matter how dusty the books, are still there. Their knowledge still open for curious viewers. So why does it suddenly feel so empty? That same abandoned library was taken over not only by dust and cobwebs but buried underneath mounds of dirt and eroded by the ceaseless weather. Lost to history. Their eyes flash over to $name's sleeping form. Was that to be their fate? "So, that's ?him?" Xeno asks, setting his helmet down before taking a seat. "Yes." "I'm only upset that I missed the reunion." Nour feels as if they are about to overheat, rage roaring in their veins, "you missed nothing." They turned their icy gaze to him, "I found ?him in a dungeon. Held up by chains." "What?" "To make matters worse, ?he doesn't remember me." Before Xeno can question them with the exact questions that have plagued them, they continue, sighing as they run their fingers through their hair, "at all. Not my name, who I was or am … nothing." They rest their head on the cold stone wall, almost glad for the frigid temperature. "I've replayed this reunion so many times that I thought I had truly covered every reaction. I've even imagined finding ?him dead. Even the dungeon part had been a possibility. But the one reaction I was not prepared for was something amnesic. How could ?he forget me?" "There has to be some sort of explanation, right? <<verb "Does">> ?he remember anything?" "Yes. ?He <<verb "remembers">> that day. Falling and what came later, also ?his parents sending ?him away. Perhaps it's selfish of me, but after ?he said ?he didn't know me, I stopped listening.<<if $bruises>> Also I kind of just wished to kill all those who had dared to put their hands on ?him.<</if>>" They take a deep breath in and close their eyes, questioning how their heart still beats so naturally. "Well, look at it as if it's a test. If you were meant to be, then prove it once and for all. Not even a lack of memory can keep you apart. Have ?him fall for you all over again." Nour hums in acknowledgment with their gaze focused on another. If Xeno could see their eyes, he would know how much that hurt. Of course, that is what they will do, but they hate it. It feels wrong to have memories you can no longer share with the one person you wish to, all because they remember none of it. Nour is unable to sleep that night. Their mind far too busy turning shared dreams and whispered promises into nightmares. <a data-passage="0EndNour"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
He shakes his head, rising as he walks to the mouth of the cave, listening to the seething winds. When will this storm calm? And where is his own team? Finding them will be an issue. And Draxmil is out there. He has left it alone, believing that after finding the heir, he would simply fly back to where the amp waits. Everything that can go wrong, did. The only thing that can make this worse is if he became injured. He supposes that is a silver lining shining through. Unknowingly, he throws the sleeping ?princess a glare, gritting his teeth as he hardly contains his rage. He finds himself lost on some unknown mountain because of ?her. And what will they do if there is no hope? Obviously ?she doesn’t wish to fly. He should have just knocked ?her out and continued on. At least then, this problem would be rectified. ?Her_ fear of heights changed all of his plans and will prove to make this journey far longer than need be. But those thoughts will come at another time. For now, he is focused on a reunion. <a data-passage="0EndRuben"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Raznith takes a deep breath in before knocking on the door and then opening it, finding himself in the room of the heir. The farthest he has ever gotten has been the hall, assigning guards to the area before taking his leave. He never thought about what the room might hold, his care not exactly extending to the functions of a room not his own. But now he ponders how $name received better quarters than he. He huffs the thought away, turning his attention to the woman whose back is facing him. "Shadow," he greets, "you called for me?" The Shadow did not turn to face him, far too busy overlooking whatever has caught her attention on the nearby drawer. "I'm sure you know what for." "The escaped heir, if I was to guess. I surmise that you want me to put together a group of guards to go after them." "Not just a group of guards," she states, finally turning to face him. He stares past the many scars, veins, and decaying splotches that make up her face. He hasn't ever known her without these flaws, but he can easily imagine the beauty that once rests there. The beauty that once blossomed in her heart but was then snatched away by the hands of others. In her hands, she holds an hourglass that he has only seen once before. The only thing he can recall about it is that the object is broken. No matter how many times one flip and shakes it, the black sand never falls. Until now. One fragment after another flutters to the ground. "//Your// group of guards." He stiffens, his heart leaping at the chance to finally show her what his people can do. Not only that, but the fact that the phoenix was saved by a dragon. How lucky is he, he wonders to himself. "We won't disappoint you." "I know," she laughs, the sound shaking her entire body, "the end is so close." She holds the hourglass close to her bosom. "At last, this will end." <a data-passage="Chapter One: Arrangement"><img src="images/ruben_ch1.png" alt="Chapter One: Arrangement" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> The long line of chattering people finally left Fennore alone once she makes it to the heir's room. Instead, they bunch together like skinless creatures that are kept outside during the cold, shivering in fright and too afraid to ask to be let in. Fennore continues, opening and closing the door behind her as she takes a deep breath in. "Fennore," a voice whispers. Fennore looks and sees the back of her leader, her dear friend, hunched over something residing on the dresser. She already knows what the item is and has a sneaking suspicion of what has happened to cause this sort of reaction. It fills her with ease, knowing that at long last, the woman before her will finally be free. "What do you want to do about the heir? I can return them to the tower with the proper people." "No. In fact, I thought you would like to take over fully, enact that brilliant plan of yours." The Shadow finally turns to face her, and Fennore sadly looks upon her ruined face. Decades of waiting accumulated on her face in the form of many scars, veins, and decaying splotches. She knew her when she was still flawless and beautiful, but that has changed quite quickly. Time is kind to no one. "I have an idea. Yes. But whoever rescued them will have to pay the price." "I'm sure they will," she chuckles, a twinkle in her eyes as she says it. Fennore stiffens. What does she know, and why does she refuse to tell her? The Shadow waves the expression away as she offers her the hourglass. Fennore takes it, watching as one black grain falls after the other. For so long it had been frozen in time, many believing it to be broken. But it has simply been waiting. And now it's time. "It's finally time, isn't it?" she asks, offering it back to the Shadow. She chuckles as she takes it and holds it close, "yes, it is. The end, at long last, is here." <a data-passage="Chapter One: Freedom"><img src="images/ozara_ch1.png" alt="Chapter One: Freedom" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Watcher Tyrae bows as she enters the room that once belonged to the heir. Once … no, it would once again belong to ?her. If ?she was foolish enough to think this was it, that ?she was saved, ?she was wrong. "Shadow," Tyrae greets, breathing out deeply and feeling like the room had gotten even colder than usual. "You called for me?" The Shadow did not turn to face her, far too busy looking over whatever had caught her attention on the nearby drawer. “I was told that you wish to lead the search in retrieving the heir.” "That's correct. I only fear that I may fail you and the cause." "There's no way for you to fail,” she remarks, humming with relief, “you either return ?her or the judgment will finally be passed." "No need. ?He will be returned," Tyrae says in confidence, her heart breaking at the idea of failing. The Shadow finally turns and Tyrae stares back. There are times where she feels only she looks past the many scars, veins, and decaying splotches that make up her leader’s face. Or perhaps she doesn't, for when she gazes upon the woman she remembers her appearance from the past and ponders which the Shadow would rather be remembered by. In the Shadow's hands rests an hourglass, one that Tyrae has seen many times when entering the room. She never understood its importance nor why the Shadow declared it to be kept in the room at all times. She believed it to be broken and multiple times felt the need to throw it out. But now, her heart feels like it thumps wildly, her eyes widening as she watches one darkened piece after another fall to the bottom section of the glass. The Shadow laughs, the sound shaking her entire body, "you can fight it if you wish, my dear Tyrae." She holds the hourglass close to her bosom. “But judgement will come. At last, this will end." <a data-passage="Chapter One: Condolences"><img src="images/nour_ch1.png" alt="Chapter One: Condolences" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
The time creeps towards dusk, and the clear skies allow the brightest stars to reach your sight. The few snow drops that do sprinkle down have to frequently be whisked away from the lens of the contraption you use, but you refused to leave the instrument inside. Later, you will be able to find more, but why wait, especially when you can record which ones are brighter than others. Perhaps you may find some correlation between constellations and the twinkling stars like they all point north or exist as the lead star. <<include "M0.10">>
At the moment, you are practicing a handstand, though that seems to simplify your actual task. You have long since been able to perform a proper one, but not a one-handed one. A one-handed handstand while being able to direct your legs in an assortment of different poses is a test of your flexibility and strength. Seeing that you have little else to do, why not? <<include "M0.10">>
Your attention moves back to the notebook that sits right alongside you on the bench and then to the flower bush not a few feet away. At the moment, not all of them have blossomed though you have no doubt they will in a few days. Due to this area having an infinite winter, you have been trying to figure out each flower's actual season or if their actions correlate with what goes on around you. At points, the action feels silly. But it may not be. Some of the already thriving blossoms look as if they wish to close. A glance down at your notes says that it is a sign of an approaching blizzard. A thought that causes you to roll your eyes, every other day sees an approaching blizzard. <<include "M0.10">>
Inspiration had hit you randomly when you heard one of the servants whistling a sweet but low tune. The way the notes seemed to wrap around each other had been stuck in your mind all day. You lazily strummed them out on the lute you borrowed from Nyana'iva, one of the many servants, and it has taken you from there. You have spent days on the composition, and finally you feel you are close to finishing it. The real issue is the instrument itself. But then which? Seeing that finding a second opinion will be difficult, you will have to answer the question yourself. <<include "M0.10">>
There are times you wish you could reach through the unexplained and freeze time. To stop the world so that you can capture the one perfect moment that inspires your hand to fly across the paper, creating long, thin lines and thick curved ones. A few days ago was one of those days. Spotting a bird in the area is rare, so it certainly catches your eye when you find one with an entire nest. You managed to start sketching it before others made the same discovery and it flew off, having yet to return. Now, you can only draw from memory. <<include "M0.10">>
The sound of laughing grabs your attention, and you look up to see your peers in their little bunches, chatting away with relaxed eyes and eager smiles. [[You wish you could join them.|0.10WishJoinThem][$loner -=10]] [[You were fine where you were.|0.10FineWhereYouAre][$loner +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Social ++</span><</if>> Watching them always seems to crack open the ground you stand on and expose an uncharted abyss. You cling to the outskirts, calling for help but constantly receiving blank stares and sometimes even discontent murmurs. Those whispers prance around you, and no matter how many times you attempt to shoo them away, they linger. There was a time when some of those faces were friendly. Where even a stranger seemed to look at you in hope, curious to see what the future holds in terms of your relationship. And now they are all cold. Shunning you away and hoping that you will let go of that ledge and fall into that abyss one day. <<include "M0.10.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Loner ++</span><</if>> Once, you would do anything to be counted as a companion amongst them. To be welcomed into their circles and laugh along with them. Such a time feels distant, though not quite as distant as your life amongst House Phoenix. Both feel just as unfamiliar and strange to think about. You have gotten over it and regretting any part of your past is pointless. It will do nothing for the present besides keep you stuck. <<include "M0.10.1">>
Counting you, at least two dozen kids call this tower their home. You all sleep, eat, and learn here. And that is basically what your days consist of. Rising, eating, performing chores, then going to class, free time, eating supper, and heading once more towards bed. Or at least that is what their schedules consist of. On the good days, your schedule lines up much the same, but at least once every week, you find yourself inhabiting one of the dark and dank cells, hissing at the howling wind that always finds its way past the stone's cracks. Only a few other children have ever seen the dungeons, and one trip seems to have been enough for them. [[You thought it was enough for you as well.|0.10ThoughtItWasEnough][$mouthy -=10]] [[You seem to like the cells, since you continue to return.|0.10KeepReturningCells][$mouthy +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++</span><</if>> The first time had been enough for you. The second time, cemented the wish to never return. You realized it was your behavior, and you strived to act differently. The third time, your plan laughed in your face, and you realized you were failing, but you had not given up hope. Act as the others. Mirror and copy their actions, and you will be fine. The fourth time felt like a slap, and your mind drew a blank. A rebellious fire lit within your belly then. The fifth and sixth time, you had been too invested in how cold your hands felt, and you were unable to think of anything more. The times after that all seem to blend in with one another. But you were no longer confused, just accepting. <<include "M0.10.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++</span><</if>> If you were honest with yourself, only the first time did you feel all of this was genuinely unwarranted. Anytime following that, you brought onto yourself though you never believed some of your actions called for such a punishment. Each time they place you here, it strengthens your resolve, and you continue to act out. You do not regret it. <<include "M0.10.2">>
To behave as if you do not know why you are placed there would be such a farcical lie that it feels silly to even think. The main reason, at least nowadays, all comes down to one ceaseless action you do. Running away. It was why you and the blizzards of the area have become so familiar. Some attempts are smarter than others. Some see you getting farther, some higher, and some simply seem like you have wished for death at an earlier convenience. But clearly, they all end the same, with you right back here. [[You wish to be free of all of this.|M0.10Free][$lost -=10]] [[You don't know what you want anymore.|M0.10Lost][$lost +=10]]
Most of your escapes were more than genuine. The more you found yourself in trouble and isolated, the more you wished to be free of bindings that you had once gladly accepted without question. You have always craved more in life, but you were not silly or childish. You knew why you were here, and so you practiced patience. That patience grew thin when your treatment began to differ, and you became a pariah instead of an equal. Though, that wish for freedom means little, especially when you find yourself captured with every attempt. Each time you return, you are isolated just a bit more. Friendly faces become that of blank foreigners. Idle conversations traded in for harsh whispers. And the instructors, once those you found yourself looking up to, have become nothing more than vessels for disputatious discussions with you as their topic. And so you stand alone. Though that is nothing new. <a data-passage="M0.10.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Your first attempt is not one you can quickly call upon and reminisce. At most, you remember the feeling of being utterly lost, both in the physical world and in your subconscious. Everything just felt confusing and tiresome. Questions that didn't wish to be answered besieged you at the time. Perhaps running away wasn't the answer, but then what was? Staying here and willingly accepting the treatment was not what you wanted, but the coldness outside the tower wasn't either. These thoughts didn't matter. Not truly. Not when you lose more than you ever gain. Each return finds you more and more isolated, and friendly faces become that of blank foreigners. Idle conversations traded in for harsh whispers. And the instructors, once those you found yourself looking up to, have become nothing more than vessels for disputatious discussions. And so you stand alone. Though that is nothing new. <a data-passage="M0.10.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You glance at the towering walls of the fort. The purpose of all of this, you do not know. Though you doubt if anyone does. An academy of sorts? Where parents send their weak and shameful children because they can't bear to look at them? It is not that you have been told that. No, what you were told is much worse. And though, in the beginning, you refused to believe it, the longer you find yourself here, the more you do. None of the other children are of House Phoenix, nor are they nobles or royalty. In fact, you are the only one with such odd circumstances. In all respects, they are all the opposite of you. Humble backgrounds. All from villages that belong to either minor houses or exist outside house territories altogether. Those who can shift can do so easily, and those who can't are not frowned upon but celebrated. None are sick, and they all have families who visit them from time to time. And then there is you. A noble from a royal house, possessing the ability to shift though it is a pointless venture that only earns you stares from all. You are sick, and each visit, you stare at a closed door, wondering if that day will be the day a familiar face enters, glad to see you. And surprising no one, each day it remains shut. You realize that even if a face was to show, it would not be one you effortlessly recognize. But those are the thoughts of a weak-minded child that did not understand their place in such a barbarous and strange world. A child who believed a smile paired with a hopeful glance would earn them the sympathy and friendship of their peers. A child who trusted and depended on others. There was no funeral for that senseless child. No one to mourn them. They simply died, probably in a cell whose stones have never known heat. Where crystalized tears reside upon the walls and floors, creating an exhibit for those who might happen to look upon them at a later date. <a data-passage="M0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"And what are you doing over here by yourself?" Nyana'iva questions. She is a kind servant or at least kinder than the rest of them. While many simply leave you be, hardly even sparing you a glance, Nyana'iva has at least taken the time to get to know you. But, that is as much as you can say, for even she sometimes seems to remember who you are and keeps her distance. <span class="voice">"Lesson number two, was it not?"</span> the scratchy voice questions, sounding like an individual who desperately needs to clear their throat but refuses. You do not answer the voice, blinking as you look squarely at Nyana'iva. "You know the answer to that. I am simply waiting for this day to be over. To go back to my room, devastated but not surprised, and to end this day I have long been dreading." "Surely you do not feel that way?" [[“I wouldn't have said it otherwise.”|0.10SaidItOtherwise][$positive -=10; $mouthy +=5]] [[You roll your eyes and huff.|0.10RollEyesHuff][$positive -=10; $mouthy -=5]] [[“Perhaps not. Does it matter?”|0.10DoesItMatter][$positive +=10; $mouthy +=5]] [[You don't, but you do not vocalize that.|0.10NoVocalize][$positive +=10; $mouthy -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++ | Bleak ++</span><</if>> "I wouldn't have said so otherwise. So, yes, I feel exactly that." Because Nyana'iva is the only person who seeks you out to speak, you don't like to run her off. But, at the same time, you wish that she would speak her piece and leave. Or at least be able to read your emotions and not say such silly and pointless things. <<include "M0.10.5">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++ | Bleak ++</span><</if>> You don't bother to comment on her words, instead reacting only by rolling your eyes and letting out a huff. There is no point vocalizing how wrong you believe she is, not Nyana'iva, who always seems to possess some odd optimism for everything. <<include "M0.10.5">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Flippant ++ | Hopeful ++</span><</if>> "Perhaps not. But what does it matter? This is not about whether or not I hope for something more but what will most likely happen. This is me being realistic." "You dress it up, but a negative attitude is simply that." You wish to continue arguing but see no point in it. Each time you tell your heart to feel some kind of hope for what will happen in a few hours, you find yourself retreating back into yourself. <<include "M0.10.5">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hushed ++ | Hopeful ++</span><</if>> In truth, you don't, or at least you wish you don't. You possess an odd amount of optimism for someone in your position, and most of the time, vocalizing it feels silly and wrong. <<include "M0.10.5">>
"Everyone is chosen during The Selection," Nyana'iva says further, "you may not be chosen by the Watcher you prefer, but you will be chosen." <span class="voice">"Listen to the words she uses to cheer you up. She believes you are simple-minded. A child in an adult's body. Have you not grown up at all, she wonders."</span> Thankfully, before a response can be uttered by you, another figure approaches. She clears her throat, gazing at you and then at Nyana'iva. The two share the same hair color and general face structure. In fact, there is little the two do not share. The only noticeable detail is their eyes. Whereas Nyana'iva's soft brown eyes cause one to enter into a state of comfort, her little sister's black eyes simply question you and little else. <a data-passage="M0.10.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Naticia?" Nyana'iva questions, her nervous smile becoming much more genuine. "Lale wished for me to come over and remind you of your purpose and the consequences for not fulfilling it. Whatever that means." And just like that, Nyana'iva's smile vanishes, and with a frantic nod, she rushes over to the other kids, leaving the two of you alone. Naticia is years younger than you and a few of the others. She belongs to what many have nicknamed the second generation of individuals. There are three in all, those closer to your age being the first, then the premature children that range from thirteen to eighteen. And finally, the third who are all of younger ages. Despite her age, Naticia reminds you of those your age: wise, quiet, talented, and obedient. <span class="voice">"All things you are not, hmm?"</span> that Voice asks, chuckling still with an inflection just as awful. Naticia says nothing to you, simply gazing at you in curiosity as if finding conclusions to her own questions. You ignore her, going back to what you were doing before her older sister chose to interrupt you. In a few more hours, you will have enough on your plate. At least until then, you wish to relax. A few minutes later, the Voice comes back, <span class="voice">"why do you seek to ignore me? Today of all days?"</span> "Because of today, of all days," you say aloud, scowling at the mistake. Think, don't speak. Think. <span class="voice">"Always so forgetful,"</span> it chuckles, <span class="voice">"and odd. You would try to quiet the one friend you have?"</span> [[“You are not my friend.”|0.10NotMyFriend][$voice -=10]] [[“Yes, but only for today.”|0.10OnlyToday][$voice +=10]]
"You are not my friend. How many times must I remind you of this?" <span class="voice">"Will you also choose to remind me that I am but a figment of your sadistic mind? One that you keep around because otherwise, you will be literally nothing but a figure with a beating heart?"</span> "If that will quiet you, then yes." <span class="voice">"You are right. We are not friends. I am more of a babysitter. And you, my idiotic charge that needs constant supervising. You would doom anyone foolish enough to call you friend. But back to the matter you seem so keen to ignore. All will be fine. By the end of the day, you will be in your room …"</span> [[“... crying.”|M0.10Sad][$sad +=10]] [[“... sitting numb.”|M0.10Numb][$numb +=10]] [[“... raging.”|M0.10Anger][$anger +=10]]
"Yes, but only for today. I wish to see what will happen before you weigh in on it like you always do." <span class="voice">"Do not tell me that you are feeling hopeful?"</span> <<if $positive >=50>>"Would such a thing truly be so bad?"<<else>>"Of course not. But you provide worry when there is the chance none is needed."<</if>> <<if $positive >=50>><span class="voice">"Yes,"</span> it hisses, <span class="voice">"we have talked about this. You seek to be an idiot, you see. To be crushed when you can avoid such a feeling,"</span><<else>><span class="voice">"I provide the truth even when you don't wish to hear nor see it. Do not silence me simply because you are fearful,"</span><</if>> it shouts. It seems to calm itself. <span class="voice">"It's fine. By the end of the day, you will be in your room …"</span> [[“... crying.”|M0.10Sad][$sad +=10]] [[“... sitting numb.”|M0.10Numb][$numb +=10]] [[“... raging.”|M0.10Anger][$anger +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Releasing your emotions helps you.</span><</if>> <span class="voice">"By the end of the day, you will be crying. I will remind you of the need to stop and get a hold of yourself. For what will tears do for you in the end? No one will care, and no one will comfort you. Only I am here for you."</span> <<include "M0.11">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">You rarely feel anything.</span><</if>> <span class="voice">"By the end of the day, you will be sitting in the corner or upon your bed, numb. You will try to awaken some kind of feeling, but I will warn you what such tamperings will do. You are such a fragile little thing, after all."</span> <<include "M0.11">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">You cope through anger.</span><</if>> <span class="voice">"By the end of the day, you will be in your room, raging. Punching walls and throwing objects, giving all who are lucky to hear quite a show."</span> The Voice changes, taking on a more motherly tone, <span class="voice">"but it will be fine, like always. Because I will be there. The one thing that will always remain at your side despite all your mistakes and outbursts."</span> <<include "M0.11">>
You fight and lose to the feeling that overcomes you, pushing it to the side for your own sanity. //Lose yourself in your activities//, you mumble, yet you can't. Every attempt is met by failure, and you are unsure if you hear someone laughing or cooing at you, attempting to soothe a deprecating ego. The only thing that pulls you out of your thoughts is the sound of a servant's shrill whistle. The others immediately break off from their conversations and form a line like you have rehearsed in the past. Everyone belongs somewhere. You eye the first spot, once that position was yours. Though you did not retain it for very long, and if someone was to ask how you lost it in the end, they would be met with a blank stare. Like everything you ever had, it was there one moment and, in a scalding blaze, gone the next. Trudging to the end of the line, you stand there and think about the last time you had been in such a position. At that time, this position meant something significantly different. It was the spot for the most talented person, the one everyone was waiting to see. You tenanted such a space, and when all eyes turned to you at long last, you fell from the sky with wings of darkened ash. They gaped and whispered as you lay broken, suffering so much that you could not scream. And now you stand in another line, meant to cull the desired from the lesser. <<if $positive >=50>>//Everyone is chosen at The Selection//, you whisper to yourself.<<else>>Only, you feel as if you alone make up the entire lesser population.<</if>> <a data-passage="M0.11.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The Watcher's walk out into the area, looking all of you over. A pointless action, seeing that they have already chosen who will go where. There is an even number of you, with each Watcher receiving eight people to mentor in the end. Of course, you have thought about which Watcher you hope to be chosen by. Everyone has. Whenever the others speak about it at dinner, you sit at your table away from theirs in thought, picturing how you would answer if ever asked. There was Watcher Tyrae, the scientist. Your first few days had been spent exclusively in her company. She helped to ease all of your ailments, and once you could function, she sent you off. Though you still saw her frequently as she adminstered numerous tests to figure out whatever caused your wings to burn away. And recently, to help with headaches whose origins you keep mostly quiet. Then there was Watcher Fennore, your instructor. Along with all the other kids, you attend her classes on etiquette and basic knowledge. She was charismatic and kind, pushing you all to do your best. You once were her favorite, but that was no longer the case, and her attitude towards you has grown considerably cold. The last Watcher was Raznith, a soldier. You never see him without a sword and donning at least basic armor. Part of you fears him, and another strongly admires him. In the end, you can never figure out which side wins. Looking at all three of them now, you decide you would like … [[Watcher Tyrae to choose you.->M0.11.2][$stealth +=10]] [[Watcher Fennore to choose you.->M0.11.2][$charisma +=10]] [[Watcher Raznith to choose you.->M0.11.2][$force +=10]]
"Who wishes to go first then?" Tyrae asks, already appearing bored with the evening's event. You're sure that she would much rather be in her workshop, doing whatever she does for hours on end. "I shall," Raznith says, waving his hand and allowing his second, a man you know as Laurens, to read the list. All the names are read in a quick and orderly manner, and the individuals step up while you stay where you are. <<if $force is 10>>You aren't chosen by who you wish, but that doesn't mean Fennore or Tyrae won't pick you. You also refrain from trying to learn why you were not. What did you do wrong compared to everyone else?<</if>> Tyrae shrugs and goes next, grabbing her notebook out of her apron and reading the eight names that rest there. <<if $stealth is 10>>Not chosen, disappointing, you had at least been interested in what Tyrae does. <</if>>There are only eight of you left, which means you will be working with Watcher Fennore. <<if $charisma is 10>>Seeing that she is who you wished to be chosen by anyway, you see this as a win.<</if>> The other two take their groups away to tell them what is expected of them. Fennore stays. "I am to be your mentor now. These next few months, perhaps years will be -" she pauses, glancing over at you, "ah, $name, my apologies, but you are not on my list. I ask that you leave my group." The others immediately begin to whisper, casting shocked glances your way. Despite a chill that has only grown colder as the night gets closer, your entire body heats up. A weird sensation as your dying flame has not been able to provide much heat since your accident. [[“Then what am I supposed to do?”|0.11WhatAmISupposedToDo][$mouthy +=5]] [[“I … yes, Watcher Fennore.”|0.11YesFennore]] [[Go take a seat.|0.11TakeASeat][$mouthy -=5]]
"What? Then what am I supposed to do? Is there another group? Bane, perhaps?" Fennore laughs, covering her mouth apologetically, "you believe Bane would want anything to do with you? As if she does not have far better things to concern herself with? $name, not even you are that foolish." "Then why?" you attempt, ignoring those near you, but your heart doesn't. It beats at a pace far too briskly for you to maintain. "$name," Fennore says in a calm, reassuring voice. You feel anything but reassured, more like you're being patronized. "Do not make this any more shameful than it already is. Please, take this moment to reflect on what you can do better in the future." A few others snort, and you are once again aware of those around you, not just in this small group of seven but also in the other groups. They all look at you, eyes full of judgment or pity. Taking one backward step after another, you retreat to a distant bench. <<include "M0.11.3">>
"I …" You glance around, noticing that the group has gone quiet, eager to hear your reply. It is so easy to see them gathering in their groups, laughing about how you reacted and speaking about why. You will not give them more material to use. "Yes, Watcher Fennore." Keeping your head as high as you can, you go to a bench in the distance, feeling the eyes of everyone on you as you go. <<include "M0.11.3">>
The embarrassment is too much to bear, and you can hardly imagine being put through anything more. You walk over to a distant bench, feeling the eyes of everyone on you as you go. <<include "M0.11.3">>
As soon as you sit, you see them all staring at you. The outcast. The one who entered with so much promise and yet failed. Yet again, you presented others with so much potential but only proved to them that you were a disappointment. This feels so reminiscent of a time that you believed to be bygone. You feel as if you are experiencing the shame like it happened yesterday. The whispers, the stares, and the guilt. All of it again plaguing you, throwing itself upon walls still weak from the last assault. When will this end? <span class="voice">"The only difference is that I am here with you now,"</span> the Voice reminds, and it feels as if it pats you on the back, <span class="voice">"I am here, your friend. Your protector."</span> "I wasn't chosen by any of them," you say through clenched teeth. <span class="voice">"Shh, no need to speak of things we already expected, right? I told you that any kind of hoping would get you nowhere. I told you, and you didn't listen and now look, you're upset. They think you pathetic and a waste of breath. Next time listen to me. Your successes, no matter how infrequent, are my successes."</span> [[“And my failures?”|0.11AndMyFailures]] [[“What did I do wrong?”|0.11DidWrong]] [[“Shut up.”|0.11ShutUp]] [[Sit quietly.|0.11SitQuietly]]
"And my failures?" you inquire, knowing its answer, "what about those?" <span class="voice">"They are my responsibility as well. My burden to remind you of in hopes of you avoiding a repeat. But listen to me, and you will find them lessening."</span> <<include "M0.11.4">>
"But what did I do wrong?" <span class="voice">"Come now,"</span> the voice laughs, <span class="voice">"you know the answer to that.</span> "I don't." <span class="voice">"Now, you are simply being ignorant for the sake of it. Who else has tried to escape as many times as you? Fled to the hills only to repeatedly be brought back."</span> "Yes," you admit, "but even before that, I was shunned. They distanced themselves from me long before I ever had the thought." <span class="voice">"That is because of who you are. Don't you see? You're worthless. That is simply something you must accept."</span> <<include "M0.11.4">>
"Shut up!" you shout, thankful that you didn't say the words aloud, and they were only thought. <span class="voice">"Or what? Will you whisk me away and force yourself into utter isolation? Do you think anyone cares about you besides me? Not even you care about yourself, hence why you sit here."</span> "If you truly cared, I would not be sitting here." <span class="voice">"No, that is entirely you. You stupid little child. You believe yourself to be all-knowing. If I truly disappeared, you would be nothing, so be grateful."</span> <<include "M0.11.4">>
You do not reply. Nor do you quiet the Voice or ask it questions pertaining to your current situation. And it remains quiet, but its presence never leaves you like a ghost that is free to roam around but must not forget that it's chained to you. <<include "M0.11.4">>
Glancing away from the gatherings, you look out at the darkened sky, squinting your eyes at a glowing speck that grows in size. You believe it to be a star, but why would a star grow closer and not be the dazzling white or soft yellow it typically is? No, this glow is a tranquil blue and stunning gold. You believe they would compete for dominance, but they exist as partners. The creature gets closer, and you realize that it's falling. There is little you can do as it falls into a snow heap, and you cringe at the sound of the impact. A hard thud, but you swear you hear bones break. A sudden memory overcomes you and makes you feel small and alone. You stand frozen for a while, staring at the disturbed heap of snow, but instead you see dirt. A bird's body lies there, its body contorted in a sick fashion. The crowd grows dense and their whispers rise to a disturbing crescendo, their eyes on you. Everything feels like it's crashing down around you, pillar after pillar of stability collapsing. "What was that?" the others ask and all at once you are back. Swallowing deeply and ignoring your racing pulse, you approach the creature that has come raining down. Those behind you tell you to be careful, some say not to approach, and others simply look on in curiosity, believing if anyone should advance upon the downed, mysterious creature, you should. The first thing you figure out is that it's a bird, larger than the ones you typically see gracing the harsh mountain winds but smaller than your phoenix form. The size of a kite or falcon though its body is - a phearn! <a data-passage="M0.11.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The name comes to you as soon as you move the snow off the long, colorful, and bioluminescent tail feathers that the creature is known to possess. How had you not realized earlier? You have long since adored these creatures when living with your parents. Something attached to its leg catches your attention and you make to grab it. "What is it?" Raznith questions, your hand paused in the air as you look back at the Watcher. "A phearn," you answer, "there are tons in the Scorched Woods." The last word hardly leaves your mouth before Raznith swoops down to grab the bird, caring not for whether he hurts the creature or not. He hands it to an unprepared Tyrae, making sure to block your vision. "We will look into this. Everyone, to your rooms," he commands. "But what about supper?" a voice in the crowd shouts. "Now!" Nothing more is needed to be said, and all of you file back into the tower. <a data-passage="M0.11.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Where do you think it came from?" those behind you ask once out of earshot of the servants and guards. "The Scorched Woods, idiot. $name literally said it. Were you not listening?" Naticia snorts. A few minutes later, she's at your side, "do you know if they normally travel this far north?" Her question is directed at you, but the shock of being included in their conversation has you drawing a blank. Mouths are moving, yet you don't comprehend anything being said. It takes a few more seconds of disbelief before you finally find yourself answering. "No, they usually don't." "So someone sent it this way then?" she ponders aloud. Her words remind you of the note tied to its leg, and your curiosity soars. A phearn is a determined bird. It would only fly this far north if someone sent it to do so and to do that … You abandon the line of thinking, mainly because it seems to run straight into a wall, and your mind grows blank. Phearns are from your home, yes. But that didn't mean they weren't pets of others. Thinking anything more than that feels like a headache. "Have you ever had one?" "Can you keep them as pets?" "What do they eat?" They bombard you with question after question, each face looking just as excited and curious as the last. Your eyes dart from one face to the other, remembering when this was a daily thing. When you were always included in their conversation regardless of what it pertained to. Now … [[You enjoy this moment for now.|0.11EnjoythisMoment][$loner -=5]] [[You walk into your room.|0.11WalkYourRoom][$loner +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Social ++</span><</if>> You decide to stay quiet and enjoy this moment. For once, you want to feel like you belong and are accepted amongst your peers. <span class="voice">"Such a foolish thought. Why keep lying to yourself? They are simply curious and nothing more. Which lesson is this, I wonder? Everyone wants something, otherwise you are nothing more than dust to them."</span> You produce a hiss-like whimper to quiet the Voice when the others glance at you, their conversation falling to the wayside as they all look on. Despite the lack of judgment in their gazes, you still feel your body begin to shake, and the everyday nervousness takes over. Excusing yourself, you quickly head into the room, closing the door and pressing your back against it. "What was that?" <<include "M0.11.7">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Loner ++</span><</if>> Without a second word, you turn and walk into your room. There is silence in the hall as soon as you close the door. You fake steps, acting as if you have retreated to bed, but you remain by the door. After a moment longer, you hear the voices again. "Well, that was rude." <<include "M0.11.7">>
"What did you expect? $name has always been odd." "Is it true that $name wasn't picked by anyone?" "Yes," one says, far too excited for your taste, "you should have heard Fennore when telling ?her to leave. $name was so embarrassed." "But why wouldn't ?she be picked? We were told that no one is excluded from The Selection." "The amount of times ?she<<verb "'s" "'re">> run away, probably." "You all sound surprised when this was to be expected. ?She is simply a letdown," another adds in, "something we have all seen and agreed upon." Their voices grow distant as you surmise that they head to their shared rooms. You stay where you are, staring ahead and wondering if this is how the rest of your life shall go. The thought hardly has time to cement as you determinedly walk over to the lone window in your room. It is big enough for you to stick your head out, and that is it, but even then, it has been your salvation. Where once your phoenix form had been nothing but a cruel inconvenience and reminder, it now serves a proper purpose. Escape. Each escape route has taken you out this way and as the attempts mount, so has the chance of success. <a data-passage="M0.11.8"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"A blizzard will be coming soon," you speak aloud, "I'll make sure to do it during supper when everyone is celebrating their Selection. My absence should be understandable." <span class="voice">"Smart,"</span> the Voice hums, <span class="voice">"tomorrow, behave as if you are sad. As if the Selection has taken all your power and happiness. And when the moment comes, you will escape."</span> [[“Now you wish to be on my side?”|0.11ByMySide][$voice -=5; $positive +=5]] [[“Yes. I will escape.”|0.11YesEscape][$voice +=5; $positive +=10]] [[“I will be captured once again.”|0.11CapturedOnceAgain][$voice +=3; $positive -=10]] [[“We'll see what happens.”|0.11SeeWhatHappens][$voice -=3; $positive -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> "Ah, I see you have suddenly wished to come back to my side." <span class="voice">"I will not entertain your foolish statements. If you cannot see that I am always on your side, then that is your problem. Do us both a favor and focus on your escape tomorrow."</span> You wish to argue, but both your judgment and body disagree, so you head towards the bed. [[Pray to Sun.|0.11Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Go to sleep.|0.11Sleep]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> You take a deep, steady breath and gaze out the window at the expanse of darkness that resides there, interrupted by a mild flurry of snow but nothing more than that. "I will escape," you state confidently. With your optimism at its peak, you head to bed. [[Pray to Sun.|0.11Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Go to sleep.|0.11Sleep]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> "Let's be honest," you tell the voice, caring little about speaking aloud now that you're behind closed doors, "I will be captured like I am every time. Dragged back to this place of torment and repeating the cycle as always." The voice is silent for some time before it says in a hushed tone, <span class="voice">"you will escape."</span> You're not sure where its confidence comes from, but you lack care in finding out. And so you seek out your bed, lying down to sleep. [[Pray to Sun.|0.11Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Go to sleep.|0.11Sleep]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> "It hasn't happened yet, so do not be so confident. We'll see what happens and go from there." <span class="voice">"You say this to me as if I need this reminder when you are simply reminding yourself. You believe your negativity saves you, but it is simply to hide your fear of rejection and failure.</span>" "No one asked you." It chuckles but quiets after that, saying nothing more. The silence is an indication that perhaps you should go to sleep, and not having enough energy to argue, you do just that. [[Pray to Sun.|0.11Sun][$prayer = true]] [[Go to sleep.|0.11Sleep]]
You do not pray every night, but you attempt to do it as much as possible. Sun will answer one day, will he not? Or maybe you simply do it now to not feel so alone? Even if nothing happens, then at least someone seems to listen. Hope is a flickering flame that reminds you far too much of yourself. It needs kindling and constant attention, and even then, it is still so feeble. Some time long ago, hope had lost itself. It saw its own reflection and was reviled. And now you are its keeper, for if you give up on it, then surely it will be no more. And with a prayer uttered, you go to sleep. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You bring the duvet close, finally experiencing some modicum of warmth. That feels like such a foreign word, one that holds great luxury and far weirder connotations. You scarcely remember feeling the same way about the cold, for a bonfire rested inside of you and kept even the lightest of drafts away. Now, you only have infrequent cravings of wishing to feel the heat. Though you know that when the blanket provides too much warmth, you will toss it off of you, your body whirring at the alien feeling. And with that last thought, you sleep. <a data-passage="0.10.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"What does she want to speak to me about?" "I said that you are to follow me, not ask questions." "Yet here I am asking questions. Is it truly so hard for you to answer them?" The guard takes a step back and turns, already walking back down the hall and away from you. You suppose that is the answer to your own question, and you follow behind them with a sigh. <<include "M0.12">>
A bolt of fear rides your spine as you nod and then move to follow them. <<include "M0.12">>
Along your short journey, you pass guards and servants alike, all of who stare at you out of the corner of their eyes. You hear them whisper and snicker at your predicament. You fight the growing want to disappear and be safe behind the walls of your room where it is simply you and you only. Will this be how the rest of your time here will be? Merely an existing figment that takes up space and air? Looked at and regarded as something less than even the dust that flits through the air? Once at the office in question, you knock once before opening the door and letting yourself in. The lanterns along the walls cast a warm glow around the mid-size tidy room. You have been here many times before, and as you recount those times, you fail to ever remember a time when this room wasn't in pristine condition. You've never seen a paper out of place or a cobweb decorating a corner. The pictures and charts were hung with the utmost care, and though you know it is a mere exaggeration, you feel that even the flames don't dare sway out of line. Fennore is absent, but Bane stands with her back to you, gazing over the woman's collection. She turns as she hears you enter. <a data-passage="M0.12.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name," Bane greets as if your name alone brings forth a headache. You recall that you have never seen the woman smile, haven't seen her do much of anything but frown. She hasn't changed much. The years have not claimed her as they have some. No, that is not entirely true. They devour her differently. Wrinkles do not arise, nor does it seem that weariness grips her bones, or the gray strings of maturity dye her hair. Instead, veins extend farther out, growing darker and pulsing viciously. Varied-sized splotches against her pale skin, some appearing as only bruises but others much too dark and corrupted to be mistaken as such. Bags get more profound, and though there had never been a light in her eyes, the last glimmers fade. The only times her dark gray eyes do anything more than darken is when she is before the other children. It is only then that a dash of hope seems to infiltrate those dark orbs and bring life to a figure you presume is already dead. In the past, you wished to learn more about her. To understand what events could cause this outcome. But mostly, you seek to know how bright her spirit had been before. If it has always held a dull spot that has only grown darker over the years, or if once you would have never been able to recognize her. "Bane," you greet, bowing your head. "Let us get on with this," she sighs. <span class="voice">"Wicked old hag,"</span> the Voice snorts, and you attempt to keep your face as neutral as possible. "You were not chosen by any of the Watchers. You know why, yes?" [[“Because you all secretly hate me?”|M0.12SecretlyHateMe][$voice +=5; $mouthy +=5]] [[“Should I say yes, to speed this along?”|M0.12SayYesToDoSpeed][$mouthy +=5]] [[“I do not.”|M0.12IDoNot][$mouthy -=5; $voice -=5]] [[Stay quiet.|M0.12QuietTime][$mouthy -=5]]
"Because you all secretly hate me?" You ignore the stern look she sends you, "it's not like it was much of a secret." "Watch your tongue." "Or you will throw me in the dungeon? Fine," you shrug, "I have been missing the view. It will give me something to do now that I have nothing." In the past, Bane would strike you, only increasing your puzzling emotions towards the woman. But time seems to have slowed her hand. Her need to punish and rehabilitate you has faded into nothing more than scarcely visited nightmares. <<include "M0.12.2">>
"Should I say yes, if only to speed whatever you call this little meeting along?" "Watch your -" "Tongue? Ah, yes. We have been here one too many times. You will not punish me because you don't care enough to. See, the meeting has come to an end. Perhaps send a messenger next time. Your valuable time should not be wasted." In the past, such gall would have been met with a swift blow to the face. But like you have previously said, Bane's care has waned, and so has her hand. <<include "M0.12.2">>
"I do not," you mumble. There is a part of you that hopes she will explain it. But then there is also another side of you that wishes to reside in this ignorance. You don't need to know. You'd rather not know. "Truly?" she scoffs, "even after you have refused to listen many times? Or the many times you have visited the dungeons? Your escapes? None of those have given you an inclination?" You remain silent. "You know exactly why you were not chosen. It is a wonder that you believed you would be chosen to begin with." She looks as if she wants to say more, but a touch of weariness seems to possess her, and she refuses to go on. <<include "M0.12.2">>
You say nothing in reply to her question, and whether or not she appreciates your silence is hard to figure out. She seems to release a breath and appear more relaxed by the silence. Or maybe she is simply trying to deal with your presence. <<include "M0.12.2">>
There was once a time when you were her favorite. When she entered a room, you were her focus. And because of that, you gained silent and petty alienation from your peers. But again, it was hushed. Hardly even whispers were murmured outside of your presence, and many flocked to you. This changed drastically the day a mistake was falsely constructed into a disaster. And as the years go on, it has only gotten worse but your feelings towards it have stayed steady. [[It is all unfair.|M0.12Anger][$anger +=5]] [[You crave to relive those early days.|M0.12Sad][$sad +=5]] [[You feel little about it all now.|M0.12Numb][$numb +=5]]
All that has befallen you, every part, is unfair. None of it's your fault, yet you seem to be the only one to suffer. Something is demoralizing about being turned into nothing more than a shadow if even that is applicable. Others inspect you with a look of boredom trapped in their gaze, their eyes roaming you more as if you are an object. And even others that don't see you at all, gazing through you as they go. Barely constrained anger meant to be freed is otherwise contained and horribly tempered. Well … contained as best a child can. <span class="voice">"Yes,"</span> the Voice snickers, <span class="voice">"I recall a time when that very same anger nearly killed a child. Even now, they carry the scars of your … constraint."</span> <<include "M0.12.3">>
It is hard to move on and completely forget what it was like to feel accepted. To be included in a group and have someone to speak to, even if they could not relate to your own issues. You once laughed and played, and now you simply sit off to the side, watching others. <<if $loner >=50>>It is true, you have embraced this lifestyle. But there is always something inside of you that wishes to be included. Even if you are to say no in the end, to be approached and asked by others to join in. You would appreciate that very much.<<else>>You have never truly embraced this loner lifestyle that has been forced upon you. But you have learned not to deviate from it as well. You are met by sharp glances and harsh reprimands that remind you that you are not one of them.<</if>> <span class="voice">"Pathetic how you look to the past repeatedly as if it will somehow return to you,"</span> the Voice grumbles, <span class="voice">"accept it as they have and move on."</span> <<include "M0.12.3">>
Your emotions have died off, and you have accepted your place in the social hierarchy. Yet, it did not simply stop there. Your feelings linger on the precipice of your consciousness as if afraid of crossing whatever invisible border separates them from you. You have yearned for their return, and you have found that you are not complete even within yourself. You are as empty on the inside as your world is around you. <span class="voice">"Indeed,"</span> the Voice snickers and then sighs wistfully, <span class="voice">"but is this not how it should be? Would you rather be hurt and mistreated? Be grateful."</span> <<include "M0.12.3">>
You ignore the Voice, an action you had once thought you perfected but have since realized that you have not. "You will go and ask Tyrae what you can do for her. And then immediately after, you will retire to your room and stay there until you are freed by the guards." <<if $mouthy >=50>>\ "So I am now a prisoner?" "You are a poor listener and no longer any of my concern." <<else>>\ "Is there … anything else you wish of me?" "No. Leave." <</if>>\ She turns her back to you, obviously finished with this conversation. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You ball your hand into a trembling fist, taking a few breaths to calm down. What will your anger get you? Thrown into the dungeon on the night you have planned to escape, that's what.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>You sniffle but otherwise keep your emotions restrained. Crying in front of her will do nothing, and you refuse to be made into even more of a fool in her presence.<<else>>A spark of something appears and then fizzles out as your heart practically feels like it shrugs. Once ... you once cared and felt. Now, no longer.<</if>> <a data-passage="M0.12.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name." You don't turn, but you stop and listen to what she has to say. "All that you are is a mistake. //My// mistake. As well as my burden to forever hold. I understand this. Far too late, yet one that I will rectify. For that, I promise you." You're unsure what she speaks of, but her tone bothers you. It sends shivers through your body, and it feels as if a dark cloud is starting to form above you. Whatever mood enters the small room leaves you terrified, and you refuse to linger. Completing the task Bane gave you, you hurry to Tyrae's office, hoping that she'd have something interesting for you to do, even if that is simply to provide you with a checkup. Entering, the room is one of three where you can find some form of solace. And though you would never apply traits such as kind and empathetic to Tyrae, she is the only Watcher who has gazed at you with welcoming and unflinching neutrality since the beginning. "$name," Tyrae greets as you enter, her attention on her notebook, "headache issues again?" <span class="voice">"I am more than a mere headache. You'd think someone so wise would know this,"</span> the Voice snorts scornfully. [[“A checkup would be nice.”|M0.12CheckupNice][$voice -=3; $checkup = true]] [[“No, I'm still fine.”|M0.12MeNeedNothing][$voice +=3]]
"A checkup would be nice," you admit. <span class="voice">"You wish to shut me up again?"</span> the Voice hisses, causing you to cringe at the eerie feeling that settles at your ear, <span class="voice">"who would you be without me? Where would you be?"</span> You almost wish to tell Tyrae to hurry as you watch her wander over to her cabinet to find the appropriate bottle. <<include "M0.12.5">>
"No," you tell her with a shake of the head, "I'm fine." This is less than true, as the Voice has grown increasingly louder in the last couple of days. No, weeks. Tyrae glances over at you, shaking her head, "at least let me give you another dose of the Moon Flower remedy." Arguing that you didn't need it will see you nowhere and so you nod as she pauses to go and grab the bottle. <<include "M0.12.5">>
The checkups work for a time, some longer than others. But the Voice has always come back stronger. It will grow louder and, at times, make you feel as if you're talking to someone living and breathing. It has access to feelings and emotions that you keep quiet. Acquiring memories and thoughts that you have buried beneath so much rubble that it scares you to know it holds no bounds. It has proven to be your greatest enemy. And only friend. "Drink this," Tyrae says in a monotone voice, shoving the cup in your hand as she goes to grab something else. This is routine and you wonder which of you were more tired of it. You drink it, and a short droning takes place before eventually that too fades. "I may need to up the Moon Flower dosage," Tyrae speaks aloud, tapping her chin as she looks over some of her notes, "you may be becoming immune to its effects and needing something stronger." "Is the flower not strong enough?" "It is," she answers, "but giving you too much is inviting death and too little when your body is growing used to the poison is," she gestures to you, "becoming ineffective." She continues to murmur to herself about what can be done, turning and walking to her bookshelf and perusing the shelves. With her back now to you, you grab a few of the Moon Flower petals and stuff them into your pockets. Hopefully Tyrae will not realize their disappearance before you can go. They would be helpful for your journey and keeping certain voices to a minimum. <a data-passage="M0.12.5.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
A nearby movement drags your eye and attention away from Tyrae. The crashed phearn. Getting a better look at the small creature, you marvel at the subtle dark blue and green tones that then beautifully shift into the golden glowing feathers along its tail, wings, and head feathers. Dark gray, almost black eyes stare back at you, frightened and awaiting whatever misery you will bestow upon it. It hardly has the strength to lift its head, and when you move towards it, you notice how it tries to hide its injured wing. A pitiful sound finds its way out of the phearn. There is a slight language barrier keeping you from understanding the phearn fully. As if you come from two different regions with drastically different accents and dialects. The most you can understand is that it is calling out for a loved one, but there is a sadness as if it already knows that it will not receive an answer. <a data-passage="M0.12.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Do you need something else?" Watcher Tyrae questions, not caring enough about your presence to stop what she is doing. Whatever concoction she is mixing holds her concentration. "Bane sent me here to question you about what I should do since I was not chosen by the Watchers." She waves you off, "I will call upon you when I require you. Otherwise, simply do as you wish. Stick to the study. Nyana'iva will watch over you. Now leave." You turn, taking another glimpse at the phearn. "What will happen to it?" "It will probably die, like another certain bird I know." The last part is whispered, but you hear her speak it nonetheless. To die, caged and forgotten. Seen as worthless and treated as if your existence is too much for those alive to bear. You reach forward, your fingers passing the gate's bars and stretching as far as they can. The phearn, like you expect, makes a sort of rasping sound that you know means you should back off. You do, not wishing to cause it any more distress. "If you see Laurens, tell him to send a guard to dispose of the creature." You nod but then pause. "Why not me?" Finally, Tyrae stops what she is doing and gazes at you. "Excuse me?" [[“I have nothing better to do.”|M0.12IAmBoredTyrae][$phearn_rescue to false]] [[“I can hand it over to a guard.”|M0.12HandItToGuard][$phearn_rescue to true]] [[“I will simply release it.”|M0.12OutsideTheFort][$phearn_rescue to false]]
"I have nothing better to do but something as menial as this. Why interrupt one of the guards to perform a task when I can do it myself?" "Because I said so," she states, a sternness to her voice that warns you to stay in your place, "now do as I say and go. I have work to do that does not include babysitting you." Not wishing to further anger Tyrae, you leave the large room behind and make your way to the study. You will keep her previous orders to yourself for now. <<include "M0.13">>
"I can grab the cage or the phearn and bring it to one of the guards and tell them what you have asked. That way no one will enter later and disturb you and your work." She waves her hand in the air. "Whatever, I do not care. Simply grab the phearn and take it to a guard then. Just leave me so I can concentrate." You open the cage and reach for the phearn slowly, hoping not to scare it. "It will die, $name," Tyrae reminds, "simply grab it by the neck. You may even apply pressure to the wing." You know what will happen if you do not quickly obey and leave her presence, so you grab for its neck. The phearn screams, thrashing around in your hold as you focus on applying just enough pressure to keep it still but also that it will not be in danger of breaking its neck. As soon as you leave the room. You rearrange how you hold the creature. "I'm sorry," you say, thinking twice and performing a few tweets and whistles that mean something along the same lines. Hopefully, the language barrier between phoenix and phearn is not broad. The phearn does not seem to forgive you, but it calms down enough to reassure you that it will not continue to thrash. Heading to your room, you choose to hide the phearn amongst your fur coats. You only hope that Tyrae does not question Laurens about the bird or check your room. That fear is minimal at best. When you go, you will be taking it with you. With the phearn comfortable and adequately hidden, you head to the study before questions can be raised about your whereabouts. <a data-passage="M0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I can take it outside the fort's walls and release it myself, allowing it to fight for its survival." "If I wished for such a thing to happen, I would have released it as soon as I knew its presence was pointless. Seeing that I have not means that I do not care. Go do as I say and stop wasting my time." Not wishing to further anger Tyrae, you leave the large room behind and make your way to the study. You will keep her previous orders to yourself for now. <<include "M0.13">>
You turn down the last hall on your way to the study and spot Nyana'iva speaking to another, her face conveying the seriousness of the discussion. "I see," Nyana'iva sighs, "I doubt $name will appreciate any of this." The servant scoffs, "why do you care what that little misfit will think?" <<if $mouthy >=50>>\ "Because despite what you blabbering servants believe, I do have feelings. A concept that I am sure to be shocking." The servant at least has the decency to look a bit embarrassed upon being overheard. They clear their throat, muttering a farewell to Nyana'iva before departing. <<else>>\ You remain quiet as you continue to approach the two. Upon being noticed by the servant, you see them stiffen and utter something quick to Nyana'iva before turning and departing. <</if>>\ You watch as they walk away, "what was that about?" "Nothing," she states, attempting to wave off the conversation as nothing more than mere prattling. [[Persuade her to say.|M0.13Charm][$charisma +=5]] [[Trick her into answering.|M0.13Stealth][$stealth +=5]] [[Apply pressure.|M0.13Force][$force +=5]]
"Please, Nyana'iva," you implore,<<if $notouchy is false>> lightly touching her arm,<</if>> "I'm tired, and I just want to stop being the one that everyone treats like a blight." You pause, refusing to say more. Not because it would be overdoing it, but because you know the power those words will have on your own psyche. No, there are times you'd rather just imagine and believe in the lie. She blinks and then nods with a sigh, "your days have gotten far duller, I am afraid. On top of no longer having classes, you are now no longer allowed outside the premises until Bane has lifted the restriction." "What?" you shout, and she flinches. "I'm sorry, $name. Truly, I am. I did not think the Selection would end the way it did." [[“No, of course, you didn’t.”][$lost -=5]] [[Walk into the study.][$lost +=5]]
You run through how you should approach this. Force would be coming on too strong, and she was likely to clam up. Trying to be friendly and appealing to her was far better, but she would be aware of everything she said, giving you the information she wished to recount. Tricking her was wise but risky, as one slip up could yield nothing. You bring up the conversation with Bane, a weak starting point, but a starting point regardless. "This is Bane's decision, is it not? Punishment for being ... me." "$name, no," Nyana'iva utters, attempting to reassure you, but even she knew the pointlessness of such a task. What other answer is there for your treatment? "You don't need to coddle me. I simply wish to know what my days will consist of now." She sighs and nods, "not much, I'm afraid. Bane has restricted your outdoor time. As far as I know, you will rise, do chores, eat your meals, go to the study, and immediately head back to your room. "I am nothing but a prisoned servant." "I'm sorry, $name. Truly, I am. I did not think the Selection would end the way it did." [[“No, of course, you didn’t.”][$lost -=5]] [[Walk into the study.][$lost +=5]]
"Nyana'iva," you growl, grabbing her arm and pushing her against the wall. <<if $height is "very short" or $height is "short">>Due to your height, the position is awkward and your grip on her arm wavers. You can easily picture her fighting you off but she refrains.<<elseif $height is "average">>She doesn’t appear happy about the predicament, but neither does she seem surprised.<<else>>She tilts her head up at you and frowns, unhappy about the situation but not surprised.<</if>> "Don't you dare treat me like the tower's fool. I'm sick and tired of each and everyone and how I am nothing more than some walking ornament to you people. Tell me, now!" She glances away, refusing to make eye contact as she speaks, "you are no longer allowed outdoors until further notice." Harshly swatting your hand away, she straightens herself but it is no long before she deflates, sighing deeply, "look, $name, I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I did not think the Selection would end the way it did." [[“No, of course, you didn’t.”][$lost -=5]] [[Walk into the study.][$lost +=5]]
"No, of course, you didn't." You chuckle to yourself as you glance at the wall as if waiting for it to join in with you. So much, do you hope that tonight's runaway attempt actually succeeds. It almost hurts to think about. You just wish to be free from this. After so many years, that is all you want. You enter the spacious study. It always retains such a warm and inviting feel, something even your own chamber fails to fully accomplish. The area is large enough to contain several zones for different activities. To the side is a large enough place for one to stretch and do other workout-related activities, and to the right is a smaller space holding numerous instruments. The entire left side of the study is filled with tables and walls of books. Though the shelves are tall, not each is filled with books. You assume it is hard to keep a shelf fully stocked with such a strict collection. "What will you do?" Nyana'iva asks. [[Check out some of the astrology books.][$stars +=10]] [[Practice with some instruments.][$music +=10]] [[Study some fauna and flora based books.][$nature +=10]] [[Stretch and do some acrobatics.][$acrobat +=10]] [[Finish one of your art pieces.][$art +=10]]
Saying nothing in return, you wander into the study. The warmth of the area immediately surrounds you, but you hardly take note of it, your mind far away as it tries to sort itself out. You can ask yourself a thousand times 'why you,' and never receive an answer. Did you even want an answer? The hum in the back of your head begins to grow louder, and in terror, you attempt to put your attention on anything else. Ignoring the pounding of your heart and how the room suddenly feels like it is without air, and the feeling of your throat closing. [[Check out some of the astrology books.][$stars +=10]] [[Practice with some instruments.][$music +=10]] [[Study some fauna and flora based books.][$nature +=10]] [[Stretch and do some acrobatics.][$acrobat +=10]] [[Finish one of your art pieces.][$art +=10]]
The day comes to an end, and Nyana'iva escorts you to your room. According to her, this is yet another condition to Bane's long list of $name-specific regulations. It matters little. If all things go according to plan, you will not have to concern yourself with this. You will be ... you frown, where will you be? <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"You are an idiot,"</span> the Voice declares, making a sound similar to one clearing their throat, <span class="voice">"perhaps you will get far if you actually prepare."</span> "I have prepared," you correct, going to your chest and pulling out a crinkled map. You flatten it the best you can and gaze over it. "If I can beat out the blizzard and make it to the village resting south of here, I will be safe. They will lose my path, and I will have already moved on by the time they pick it up." The village will also allow you to rest, warm-up, and stock up on vital things. You had once stolen a coin pouch from Laurens, and seeing that you have never dealt with him personally, you know he never learned who robbed him. <<else>>\ Going to your chest, you pull out a crinkled map and flatten it the best you can to gaze over. "If I can beat out the blizzard and make it to the village resting south of here, I will be safe. They will lose my path, and I will have already moved on by the time they pick it up." The village will also allow you to rest, warm-up, and stock up on vital things. You had once stolen a coin pouch from Laurens, and seeing that you have never dealt with him personally, you know he never learned who robbed him. <</if>>\ You roll up the map with a nod; freedom will soon be within your grasp. Gathering everything you need, you lay out your clothes and head towards the bed. A simple nap, you repeat, lying down, and your eyes do not take long to close. <a data-passage="M0.13.1.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You awake with a start, your mind catching up to a body now on alert. The world outside the lone window in your room is dark; incandescent stars glimmer clearly against a never-ending canvas. You can hear the usual whirring of the wind, warning you that you are wasting time if you wish to be ahead of what is to come. You stand, stretching out tired bones and awakening a body that will need all of the energy it can muster. You are still gathering yourself and focusing on the task ahead when you hear a loud thud. It originates from the other side of your door, and cautiously, you listen for it again. Instead of another thud, you hear a low muffle. Something shifts and folds in your stomach. A familiar voice that has warned you numerous times to be careful and brace yourself. You usually hear it when others are closing in during your escapades, gaining you yet another mark under failed attempts. "What was that?" <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"Who is that question directed to, the wind?" the Voice questions.</span> <</if>>\ [[Check it out.|M0.13CheckItOut][$timid -=5]] [[Nope.|M0.13Nope][$timid +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> You take a deep breath and approach the door, opening it just enough to see outside. The first thing you see are unknown soldiers entering the shared rooms of your many classmates. Further down the hall, you see bodies strewn across the floor, unmoving and lying in dark puddles. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"You did not ask me,"</span> the Voice speaks as you back away from the door, your breathing increasing rapidly, <span class="voice">"but I think that if there was ever a time for escape, it is now."</span> "Agreed," you stutter out. <</if>>\ <<include "M0.13.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> You take a step closer, your entire body shaking and telling you to go no further. Just go to bed, close your eyes, and let all of this be over. Yes, that sounds much nicer. Not the going back to bed part, but leaving the door and happenings to themselves. It is none of your business, and the more time spent trying to figure out what is going on, the less time you have to escape. <<include "M0.13.2">>
You grab a pack that has never been unloaded. With how many times you attempt to leave this place, you have never seen a reason. And oddly, the Watchers never thought it wise enough to remove the pack from your possession. You throw on the last bit of clothes needed to endure the anticipated blizzard and grab the knotted thick twine from inside your closet. You had made a few of them once you realized that your window was a viable option for escape. Your bipedal form couldn't dream of fitting out of it, but the same could not be said about your animal one. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"Quickly now,"</span> the Voice hisses as a few screams ring out into the night. <<if hasVisited("Nope")>>You're not sure what is going on, but you find yourself glad that you had quelled your curiosity and chose to prepare instead. Whatever it is, it is not a friend, and you do not want to know what will happen when they get to your door.<</if>> <<else>>\ The sharp shrill of of screams causes you to jump. <<if hasVisited("Nope")>>You're not sure what is going on, but you find yourself glad that you had quelled your curiosity and chose to prepare instead. Whatever it is, it is not a friend, and you do not want to know what will happen when they get to your door.<</if>> <</if>>\ Your actions quicken. <<if $phearn_rescue>>\ Grabbing and bundling the phearn up in a thick coat, you go to the window and gaze down at the rocky edge below. Any other time, this process has been done slowly but carelessly. There has never been a great rush, so your actions have reflected that. This time is not like those before. Not only is there a violent commotion taking place on the other side of your door, but you also have to deal with something else that is living and breathing. You will not be able to get both you and the phearn out at once, meaning that the phearn will have to be lowered inside your pack. "Just for right now," you whisper, placing the phearn within. It barely fits along with everything else, so you will have to be even more cautious. If the phearn begins to thrash or the wind hits your bag too harshly, everything will go crashing down to the ledge below. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"You have a knack for dooming others, do you not?"</span> the Voice questions, cackling. You attempt to silence it, but the chuckles are not easily pushed away. Your hands shake, and the slightest increase in the wind causes you to rethink your actions. To make a dire moment worse, the sounds outside your room take on a new form. No longer are they just grunts, moans, and screams. But now the sounds of blades clashing cause your heart to race at a rapid pace. You tell yourself not to think about it and focus, but each thought pushes you farther from the desired mindset. <<else>>\ Your hands shake, and the slightest increase in the wind causes you to rethink your actions. To make a dire moment worse, the sounds outside your room take on a new form. No longer are they just grunts, moans, and screams. But now the sounds of blades clashing cause your heart to race at a rapid pace. You tell yourself not to think about it and focus, but each thought pushes you farther from the desired mindset. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You drop the pack out the window and then take a deep breath. You have found the importance of timing and doing this step perfectly. A second too slow, and you will lose the feathers and be unable to catch the wind in time to lighten the fall. Too fast … well, there is no such thing as too fast. It is all performed by jumping, shifting at the right moment, and then basically opening up wings that begin to burn away. In the past, you have been able to catch the wind each time, perhaps muscle memory saving you more than luck. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"Of course, it's muscle memory,"</span> the Voice states, <span class="voice">"nothing about you is luck. You are where you are because of you. And only you. Do stop forgetting that."</span> It's right, you realize. Ever since that fateful day, you've been on your own. No one has aided you, and you have learned that if you ever wish for change, you will have to seek it out and grab it yourself. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <a data-passage="M0.13.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $phearn_rescue>>\ The phearn lets out a weak caw, wiggling against the confines of the coat. "No, no, no," you mutter, tightening your grip on the rope as if that will calm the restless creature. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"Focus,"</span> the Voice hisses, <span class="voice">"breathe and continue lowering the bird. You can do nothing for it besides this now."</span> It is correct, and though the shaking does not subside, you do as it says and continue your task. <<else>>\ Despite the chill that has encased your bones, your hands become sweaty and you picture the rope slipping from your grasp. The bag falling into oblivion as the phearn's caw of help grows distant. //Stop//, you ridicule yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. //Just stop//. <</if>>\ The bag touches the ledge at the same time as someone attempts to open your door. You are running out of time. There is no time to think about your subsequent actions. You must trust in yourself and the many times you have done this in the past. You shoot forward, counting down how much time you will have to have at least some guidance. You jump, shifting so that the momentum sends you through the window. <<else>>\ Taking a step back, you breathe in deeply and then shoot forward, counting down how much time you will have. You jump, shifting so that the momentum sends you through the window. <</if>>\ "Three, four," you mentally count, spreading wings that are already beginning to burn away. But it doesn't matter. You catch the wind at the perfect time, and instead of freefalling, you perform a glide just as the last of the feathers turn to ash. You fall the rest of the way. An impact that is not comfortable but would otherwise be far worse. Safely on the ledge, you shift and secure the pack <<if $phearn_rescue>> and phearn, carefully climbing<<else>>and carefully climb<</if>> down the rock-like staircase until you get to the window inside the study. The door is open, but there are no signs of a struggle here. Whoever is assaulting the castle must've realized the room's purpose and immediately moved on. Listening carefully, you make sure there is no immediate threat before leaving the room. <a data-passage="M0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You head to the <<if $phearn_rescue>>right<<else>>left<</if>>, rushing down halls that have never felt as foreign as they do now. But they have never been bathed in red like this, bodies here and there, some in armor you recognize and others that you do not. The sight causes your stomach to churn, forcing you to look away. You attempt to concentrate on spots you once thought too dull to ever harbor any importance. Funny, how they now serve as support pillars for the contents in your stomach. <<if $phearn_rescue>>\ Repeatedly you are forced to stop as screams echo down the halls, and even at times, the building seems to shake. Each time the torches flicker, you believe someone is close. And when joined by metal meeting metal, your steps quicken in a way that you fear will cause you to trip. You have lived here for so long, and even with your multiple escape attempts, you did not wish for it to fall into such a state. For those you grew up with to be slaughtered while they slept, cleaned, or simply chatted. What if you recognized one of the faces? What then? You imagine Nyana'iva, her stomach cut open to let its content spill across the floor. Her eyes open as the pain settles in, and she must simply await death. The thought makes it impossible to stay upright and you lean on a nearby wall as you finally vomit. A headache begins to set along with terror and a host of different emotions. Though one, like always, wins out. [[Why cry over their deaths?|M0.13WhyCry][$anger +=5]] [[No one deserves this.|M0.13Nobody][$sad +=5]] [[You cannot focus on this.|M0.13CannotFocus][$numb +=5]] <<else>>\ <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"You are going the wrong way,"</span> the Voice informs you, and you nod. "I know. But there is something I must grab." You wait for the Voice to chide you and hurl a slew of choice insults at you, but it does not. The hum is almost one of acceptance, and instead of questioning it, you decide to simply continue on. <</if>>\ Tyrae's office is a few feet away, and you can only hope that the phearn is still there. You doubt Tyrae realized the lack of guards coming by to take it away, but Tyrae has had times where she has proven to be unpredictable. You inch closer when a light blue flash brightens the hallway, and the hair on your arms rises as the air cracks with energy. The sounds of grunts and bodies thudding against the floor make it to your ears, warning you of what you will soon face. Though not much of a hiding space, you press yourself against the wall and try to control your breathing, closing your eyes and refusing to see whoever is down there. Those few seconds feel like hours, and when you finally do open your eyes, you only see the back of the figure as they walk away. You note a whip in their hand and blue hair, but that is as much as you can make out from a distance. You also have no care to find out more, darting into the room that sits across from you. Thankfully, no one has come to collect the phearn, and disposing of it is a low priority of Tyrae's. The creature seems just as weak as it did before, only now it doesn't so much as even react to your presence. Dehydrated and perhaps hungry, and definitely far too cold. These creatures are not suited for cold weather, so much that you can't even find them on the coastal shores of the phoenix territory due to the ocean's cooler breeze infiltrating the area. [[Grab the phearn quickly.|M0.14Force][$force +=5]] [[Distract it.|M0.14Stealth][$stealth +=5]] [[Talk to it.|M0.14Charisma][$charisma +=5]] <</if>>\
Why feel sad about any of this? If you should feel any emotion, it should be an ill form of contempt. The anger that swells is hard to place. Parts of it are sent towards figures such as Bane and the Watchers. Another to your parents and how this all began because of their inability to love their child. And another does not go far as it turns its ire on you. This … was your fault. All this death. You don't know why but you know it was due to you. <<include "M0.14.1">>
Despite how you may feel about them, none of them deserves this. To be slaughtered where they feel safe and left to rot as all those they care for lie beside them or exist in faraway places. And who will tell the families? And then what of those families? Will they wish for vengeance? A cycle that never ends. And you somehow feel as if it is all your fault. Everything that has transpired in the past few hours is due to you. <<include "M0.14.1">>
You have to push through this terror and sickness that engulfs you. The longer you linger, the more you put yourself in danger, and the more likely you'll join the many that lie before you. Another thing you must push aside is the recurring thought that this is all your fault somehow. You're not sure why you feel this way; perhaps survivor's guilt has already set in or something completely different. Yet, something makes you think that everything occurring can be traced directly to you. <<include "M0.14.1">>
<<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class ="voice">"Such a conceited thought,"</span> the Voice whispers, <span class="voice">"must everything always be about you? You stand in the blood of these people, and somehow, it is still about you. Dear Fennore did not teach you the meaning of egotist, did she?"</span> Its words only cause the feelings to ground themselves deeper, and you clench your eyes closed as you attempt to stand on wobbly legs. <</if>>\ You need to continue on. //Selfish.// The word echoes through your mind, refusing to leave as you continue towards the dungeon. At best, you can only push it to the side and focus on your escape. But the word lingers. <a data-passage="M0.14.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You don't have time for anything else. At any moment, someone may come into this room, and whether they know you or not, the outcome is not something you wish to meet. Grabbing the blanket you packed, you reach into the cage and wrap the creature up. It fights you, but the cold that has claimed its energy and the wing injury sees most of that fight wane. "My apologies," you whisper, situating it against your chest and then inside your coat so that though you can support it, it is not a must. <<include "M0.14.2">>
You want to avoid frightening the creature even more and prevent any injury it may cause you. But what can be done to help that? There are a few plants scattered around that may do the trick. You know that phearns are omnivores, their diet consisting of fruits, plants, and insects, but that doesn't mean every plant is safe. <<if $nature >=10>>\ //Palm leaves//, you tell yourself, frantically searching the multiple surfaces for such a plant. Palm leaves are generally safe. You don't find palm leaves, but you do find a type of honeysuckle that provides sweet and tasty nectar. Thankfully, Tyrae has done the work for you, separating the nectar from the plant. You grab the jar and open it, dipping your finger and rubbing it along the bars. Like you hope, the phearn's interest grows and begins to lick at the substance that sticks to the side, allowing you to grab the blanket and reach in to grab the creature. It caws weakly, attempting to move but realizing that the cage only grows smaller with your advance, it resigns and lets you hold it. <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $phearn_sick to true>><</nobr>> Your knowledge does not extend to plants and their safety regarding birds and, more specifically, phearns. But you also don't have time to be careful. Any minute now, you could be discovered. Making up your mind, you decide to simply grab a pretty flower sitting on a shelf. You place it on the table nearest to the cage, and the phearn wanders over in interest. <</if>>\ With its attention on the plant, you can grab the blanket and reach in to grab the creature. It caws weakly, attempting to move but realizing that the cage only grows smaller with your advance, it resigns and lets you hold it. <<include "M0.14.2">>
The phearn is already awake. No doubt the sounds of the siege are to blame. It regards you with a hint of wariness, moving as far away as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you," you start, choosing to translate some of the words into bird tongue. You tell it that you are a friend and there to only aid it. It relaxes but not enough to show you that it trusts you. "I need to grab you, to wrap you in this for warmth." You fear that some of the words are not translating, or if they are, they simply confuse the creature more. It's not like you have time either. You have no idea whether or not someone will come by this room, deciding to check it for occupants. It's now or never. Opening the cage door, you drape the blanket over your hands and begin to reach towards the phearn. It caws weakly, attempting to move but realizing that the cage only grows smaller with your advance, it resigns and lets you grab it. <<include "M0.14.2">>
Now, you must escape. The good thing is you know exactly where to go. Keeping to the shadows, you keep your breath steady despite the atrocious smell of burning flesh and ripe blood. So much death. Would you come across the corpses of the Watchers or Nyana'iva? Bane? How would you feel about it? So much has happened to you, but would you wish death on any of them? <<if $checkup is false>><span class="voice">"Focus before such thoughts are made into a far more personal reality."</span> You agree with the Voice and continue on.<</if>> <a data-passage="M0.14.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You make it to the dungeon in one piece, glad to know that everything is just as still as it always is beyond that heavy wooden door. As many times as you've gotten out, your keepers have never once thought to check the dungeons as a probability. You are sure they've always believed it was one of the servant's many exits or an overly ambitious dart through the gardens and down the side. Though all those places could work just as well, this has been your go-to. Poor stonework in the area has caused parts to collapse, and after some carefully planned investigating, you have found a tunnel. It's not the most comfortable fit as you typically have to shimmy into the hole and then drop down, but it is a hole nevertheless and, even more, leads outside. After getting into the tunnel, you navigate halls that are just as familiar as those above. Each step reminds you of one made in the past. The $name that sought out these dungeons with only curiosity spurring ?her on. Or the one $name who entered and sought out the chill purposefully. There even was the one that sat in the dark for quite some time, finding it warmer than the light. You can only hope that you will not look back at this $name similarly. Wondering what ?she <<verb "was">> thinking as you yet again rush through these tunnels. Pushing on the wooden door at the end, a world that is hardly lighter than the dim tunnel awaits you. The rising wind barely beats out the sounds of war, causing it to sound farther than it is. As you look across the windy landscape, it almost feels like it is all attached to some odd dream. "I will not be followed," you murmur. The realization has only now caught up with you as your mind goes over the sights and sounds you have heard. From here, your fate rests entirely on your shoulders. Not one part of you believes you will be followed and dragged back. You will either die or find freedom. <<if $checkup is false>>\ <span class="voice">"It has always been up to you,"</span> the Voice purrs, reminding you of the one thing you have learned to rely on. Yourself. It was right. Ever since you fell from the sky, you have found that you can only rely on yourself and no one else. //You// have gotten yourself through this. It has always only been you and you doubt that will change. You don't wish it to. For in the end, you can only rely on yourself to see it through. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="M0.15"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You check in on the phearn one last time to ensure they are still snug in your coat before setting off. Your legs carry you farther and farther from the tower, causing different emotions to wash over you. The wind picks up, warning you of the tentative schedule that it's on. You focus on your footsteps, one in front of the other. Down this hill, you will be in the rock alley or the rock garden. Making it past that, you will hit another stretch of snow, and beyond that will be the village. You will thus be free of these powdered mountains that have imprisoned you far more than those in the tower. Adrenaline fuels you as you go. Their screams, the blood, all of it encouraging you to put as much space between you and the fort as possible. How many guards now lay dead after choking on their own blood? How many servants were not able to flee fast enough? Or your peers who had no idea what was happening but now found themselves staring lifelessly at the ceiling? Will any of them get away or be shown pity? That voice inside you snickers that it's your fault. And though you are unsure what has caused others to attack. You feel that it is yours as well. As the wind continues to howl, the sounds of the sudden siege start to seem like more of a whisper brought to you by a garrulous wind. Each step feels like an awaiting snare. Sometimes it lets you pass, the ground being solid enough to continue on. But then just as quickly you find yourself bracing as you trip due to unstable ground. You fall to your knees, teeth chattering and eyelids heavy from the weight of the snow. //Almost//, you think to yourself. //You almost did it//. <<if $checkup is false and $voice >=50>>\ <span class="voice">"You did do it,"</span> the Voice reassures you, <span class="voice">"and now it's time to rest."</span> "But the village -" A hand stretches out towards faraway lanterns you wish were there. Orbs of faint light fade until there is nothing but sweeping darkness. You squint, attempting to see even a few feet in front of you and failing. All that rests in front of you is darkness and the snow as it blows across the land at an alarming rate. <span class="voice">"Was never within your grasp. The only reason you escaped was because of the distraction caused by whoever those people were. You are free. What more could you want? You won't die within those cold, stone walls."</span> Its words ring true, but as you gaze at the sky, you're unsure why you resent them. <<else>>\ "The village …" you mutter, a hand stretching out towards faraway lanterns you wish were there. Orbs of faint light fade until there is nothing but sweeping darkness. You squint, attempting to see even a few feet in front of you and failing. All that rests in front of you is darkness and the snow as it blows across the land at an alarming rate. <</if>>\ Your body screams for you to simply rest, to give it a minute as you breathe heavily. [[This is where you will die.|M0.15WhereTheyGoToDie][$positive -=5]] [[Just a quick rest, and then back up.|M0.15JustRest][$positive +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> You were never one to lie to yourself, even if such truths are heartbreaking, and find you retreating further within a shell that no longer feels like a home. You will not survive this. It was foolish to even think that you would be fast enough to escape. You have doomed not only yourself but the shivering phearn that you hold tightly to your bosom. Two creatures that don't belong in a world of snow will find their graves there. <<include "M0.15.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> Rest is all you need, and once you catch your breath and regain some energy, you will continue on. You will reach the village and bury yourself under warm blankets next to a lively fire. And with your belly full and senses calmed, you will rest well. The freedom you have always dreamed of will be right there, and the world will be yours to venture into. All of this is yours to uncover as soon as you rest. There is a beauty in your thoughts that makes the idea of your quickly approaching fate feel less dire. As if these mere fantasies actually have a chance of progressing further than their current status. You are not foolish. You have always seen your death engraved on these snow-capped mountains. To run off with an incoming blizzard … well, as the adrenaline diminishes, so does the sanity of the plan. Or any plan. <<include "M0.15.1">>
Did you genuinely think you'd ever really escape? Or was it just desperation and wishing to be seen and wanted? Hoping that maybe someone will sit you down and figure out why this behavior was becoming the norm. Does it matter? You failed. Fifteen years and it ends with your failure. So then, nothing would have changed. "Voice?" you ask through chattering teeth, "are you there?" <<if $checkup is false and $voice >=50>>\ <span class="voice">"Of course,"</span> you hear it reply and though the freeze still settles into your bone. You feel a little less lonely than before. "I …" <span class="voice">"Shh. I know and I am here. Close your eyes."</span> <<else>>\ There is nothing but silence. Even when you try to reach out to grasp onto that usual hum that warns you of its presence, nothing is there. Alone then. Completely and utterly alone. <</if>>\ Your energy merges with the snow, leaving you weaker than before. The last thing you see is a colossal dark figure appear. You can feel the harshness of its skin. And then nothing. Nothing at all comes next. <a data-passage="EndM1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> The figure shakes, burying himself partially underneath the snow as he wraps himself around the still figure and begins to warm both them and itself. A low rumble starts up before escaping, turning into that of a fireball that soars high up in the sky, fading far too quickly due to the relentless wind. Hopefully, the figure thinks, his companion saw that. News of the Phoenix being up here had reached everyone, but he still found himself surprised that the words were true. How did they even survive up here for this long? These mountains troubled even him and the dragon ilk, and neither of them was of the same caliber as a creature whose essence was fire itself. //What a pity,// he sighs, //to have found the heir only for them to die in such a cruel way.// The sound of wings thumping against the wind gave way to a loud crackle and a low rumbling that resembled the sound of thunder. A large bird with a size and wingspan that still amazes him touches down, looking as if it would challenge the blizzard itself. //To think,// the man considers as he shifts out of his reptilian form and to that of a regular man, //only a few more of these creatures reside within this land.// His mind goes to the wondrous beasts with intricate antlers that have practically been destroyed and the great winged beasts that once seemed masters of this land. How even their numbers fall and continue to do so. These lands and their inhabitants were anything but kind. He knew this far too well. Rising, he takes off one of his coats and wraps it around the still unmoving figure, noting the bundle of feathers held within their grasp. And yet, perhaps there is still kindness in some hearts. He reaches down to pick them up, securing them close. The giant bird shifts, shaking profusely as they approach. Bringing their hands up, they form a variety of signs and movements. "//This mountain has earned my ire//," they say without words, cocking their head to the side when they see the figure within his grasp. "//Is that them? They look so … fragile.//" <a data-passage="EndM2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The man smirks, wishing to reply, but his hands are currently full. He could use words, but even after all these years, he still feels odd when speaking them aloud. "//What are they even doing out here? Did they suddenly forget they are a phoenix?//" He clears his throat, hating the feeling as his words are snatched partially by the wind, "they have pack and phearn. Perhaps they discovered phearn and decided to run away?" The person hums in thought, "run away from what?" "Questions we may ask once they awaken." Looking around, his companion turns back to him and asks with his hands, "//shall we head to the village or go straight back to the Phoenix territory?//" "We head back to territory. We find no warmth here, and with you, ride should take only day and half." "Then it shall be done," the figure states, taking a few steps back to shift again. Once done, they drop low to the ground, and the man busies situating the phoenix on the giant bird's back before mounting the creature. With both passengers secure, the bird takes off, leaving the tower that now runs thick with blood behind them. <a data-passage="0EndMakaio"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Bane stays where she is as guards sprint about, attempting to regain order to a fort that no longer possesses it. The entrance doors are all but burned down due to the combined breaths of multiple dragons. The fortress walls now collapsed, falling under the stress of basilisks and griffins. Dead bodies sprinkle the ground due to the actions of those who simply believed there was no other course. Her eyes leave the hourglass and move to the numerous people crowded around, each terrified in their own way. She sees a village. A village from centuries ago. Fire burned the sky, and the blackness hid the sun from view. The frightened screams of both those who are now forced to live and endure as well as those who will breathe their last breath. "You now see why we are here," she shouts, the area quieting and even the guards slowing. "Why we stand against the houses that plague our land and why we seek their end and ultimately their destruction. They believe that they are stronger, and so the rest of us mean nothing." She suddenly pauses, her vision blurring, causing her to take a staggering step back. "Shadow?" one of her advisors question but she motions for them to stay where they are. It was simply the stress. She contineues, "we must either bow and cooperate or simply die because they believe our end has come." A few murmur, nodding their heads at her words. "Let this moment not deter us. Let what come not deter us from our righteous path. Whether tomorrow or in a year or a decade, these houses will fall. We will see their end. We will see our numbers grow as more and more people realize what a future with those tyrants holds. And we will -" The last words of her speech never make it out as her world grows dark and she falls. The last thing she hears is the deafening screams of a hundred trapped souls as they claw at her skin for their freedom. <a data-passage="Chapter One: Chance"><img src="images/makaio_ch1.png" alt="Chapter One: Chance" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
Your feet scream for action, and so you attempt the bar, successfully grabbing onto it and pulling yourself up, knowing that your weakened arms will not be able to last for long. You will fall, and when you do, this entire cycle will start anew. Glancing down, you watch as fresh scarlet drops land on the craggy surface of the ashen rocks below, each contact causing a short steam to rise and a slight cracking noise to be heard before it departs. For how much longer will you be enchained here? Have you not learned your lesson? [[You had disobeyed an order, they do not take such things lightly.|Z0.00DisobeyOrder][$trouble +=20]] [[This is purely a reminder.|Z0.00PurelyReminder][$trouble -=20]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hellion ++</span><</if>> Learning your lesson is not the point of this, as this has more to do with punishment than understanding and enhancement. If even the slightest order is disobeyed, the greatest punishment is bestowed on bones so weary and broken that you are amazed you can still walk. As a child, this form of rebellion was taken far more harshly, and it was then that you had begun to curb your rash actions. But such a thing proved only halfway successful as the trait has accompanied you through adolescence and juvenile years, finding itself here with you now. You sometimes ask yourself, why not do away with it completely? Why hold that sliver when it can lead to your death one of these days? But somewhere deep, you know what it truly stands for. The last of your spirit. A flame that has been broken and abused long before the rules of the strict tower has even become a factor. This is the last part of it, and you will be remiss to see it go. <a data-passage="Z0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Legate ++</span><</if>> Of course, you haven't. For this is purely a reminder, and so there is nothing to be learned. At random times do your teacher wish to remind you of the punishment for disobeying or failing, and you have learned how creative he can be. This entire room is an example of such a mind. If nightmares had a place to thrive, then this would be the room where they would congregate and plan. Where tireless and vile whispers sing their recurrent songs and feast upon emotions released in the small space. Thankfully, this is not a daily occurrence. Your obedience and success in completing tasks make most parts of this room obsolete, besides the center area used for everyday training. <a data-passage="Z0.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
And afterward, you would be free to go about your day as if any other. The servants will all walk past you, some with hesitant smiles that they believe are genuine. Their eyes would make contact with yours for a fraction of a second before darting away, perusing the stone walls as if something intriguing could be found amongst the grey, ivy-covered surface. The guards did not behave the same, their thoughts on you drifting between respectable to restrained hostility. Some will sneer and snarl when you pass, but many give a nod of camaraderie. Others even stopping to chat, asking about your day and how well you are getting on. They question you about sparring and if you will be around for yet another session near the battlements. You are one of them, perhaps even a step above them in their eyes, but a compatriot nevertheless. Three meals a day will be delivered to you by a fidgety servant, and you will then head to the study to learn and practice what you wish. Unsupervised walks in the courtyard are allowed, and perhaps even a stroll among the garden. Then you retire to your immaculate quarters that alone would suffice anyone but harbor damnable secrets. All of this will be yours until the time yet again came for you to be ‘taught a lesson’ or you do something frowned upon. And then your torturous screams will slam against these stone walls. Your emotions and feelings traded in for bloody puddles and stained stone with all but a promise that they’ll be returned at a later date. You become as noteworthy as the soot along the floor and as lost as your fleeing soul will allow. You understand that this is just preparing you for a fraction of what the world will reciprocate. This will steel your heart, and one-day cold fire will produce in your lungs as you face them. Death will be viewed as a companion whose attempt to mock your steps only cause its own imbecility to be displayed. But until that day, the weakness has to be drained from you. And there is no other way. <a data-passage="Z0.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The door on the far side of the room is unlocked, and a familiar man steps inside accompanied by two guards. "$name," the man acknowledges. "Laurens," you manage to say through gritted teeth, the pain escalating as if wishing to show itself to its new audience. "Let ?her down." Both guards move forward, one covering the coals as the other fiddles with the bar's chains. As soon as the chains are undone, you fall into a heap on the ground, every bone and muscle yearning for this respite. One moves towards you, attempting to help you to your feet. //This choice will change whether or not you shy away from touch. This will lead to different conversations in the future.// [[Move away. (You are nervous of physical touch.)|Z0.10NoTouchy][$notouchy = true]] [[Let them help you up. (You are not against physical touch.)]]
You move her away and attempt to get to your feet, albeit unsteadily, and needing to lean on the wall that you ungracefully stumble into. You are acutely aware of those watching you in silence, especially Laurens. Though they say nothing, part of you twists at your show of weakness and them being privy to it. [[Force yourself to stand up straight.|Z0.10Anger][$anger +=10]] [[Fight through this, even if you wanted to fall apart.|Z0.10Sad][$sad +=10]] [[Block out the pain.|Z0.10Numb][$numb +=10]]
She helps you to your feet, and though you allow it, you can feel your mind roaring at the actions. Even more so due to Laurens presence, what would he think? How dare you let him see your weakness? To let any of them help you when you could and should do this on your own? [[Force yourself to stand up straight.|Z0.10Anger][$anger +=10]] [[Fight through this, even if you wanted to fall apart.|Z0.10Sad][$sad +=10]] [[Block out the pain.|Z0.10Numb][$numb +=10]]
You envision the pain and cast it out, metaphorically at least, as the pain goes nowhere and as you right yourself, it hurts just the same. You bite your lip, hoping that a new source of agony would take at least some of your mind off the action. By the time you are upright, the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue. But it is minor compared to what came before. <a data-passage="Z0.10.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Gritting your teeth, you fight past everything your body throws at you. All the pain and torment. Each second feels like you're facing a losing battle, the pain becoming unbearable. You wish to throw yourself to the ground and cry, to curse nothing in particular but everything all at the same time. You hate your weakness. And you hated that the guards were here to see this. //Stand!// You shout at yourself, and though the misery never laxes, you manage to get to your feet. Your eyes are watery, and your breath escapes you. <a data-passage="Z0.10.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
It was an odd technique and one that will undoubtedly catch up to you in the future. Perhaps it will descend in the form of you no longer being able to walk or run, or simply you will be so detached from your body that even death won't earn a simple blink of recognition. But that was the future. For now, this technique worked, and you were content to keep it at that. You feel the pain and block it out one by one, casting it away as if such an act was possible. You continue this until you find yourself standing. <a data-passage="Z0.10.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>>\<span class="stats"><<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You cope through anger.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Releasing your emotions helps you.<<elseif $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>You rarely feel anything.<<else>>You feel a mixture of emotions.<</if>></span><</if>> You finally raise your gaze and catch Laurens' eye. He has watched your turmoil silently, and you wonder if he is at all surprised by the weakness you still show. A tinge of anger and disappointment rushes through you. Years have gone by, and under his critical gaze, you still feel like the same child that he had first taken under his wing — immensely pathetic and unable to even properly defend yourself. You are weak, and you question if anything has truly changed since then. [[You will prove him wrong.|Z0.10ProveHimWrong][$cold +=5]] [[You just wanted his approval.|Z0.10HisApproval][$cold -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cold ++</span><</if>> You ball your hand into a fist and look away. You are ashamed, and after so many years, you are beginning to get real sick of feeling that specific emotion. Your relationship with Laurens is hard to describe, and to this day, you are still confused on how to put such conflicting impressions into an articulate and cohesive thought. You don't want him to like you. You don't genuinely care, seeing that he is your instructor and nothing more. But you feel it natural to want to surpass him. It is an ambitious longing and one that you can never see yourself accomplishing. You dream of the day where you stand over Laurens, the student surpassing the teacher. You don't care for an apology, just recognition that he is wrong about you. Your mind chuckles at the thought, and you silence it immediately. <<include "Z0.10.02">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Warm ++</span><</if>> Year after year, the need to gain his approval and admiration has only increased. You found favor in the guards but lost it in the servants. Though that is a loss, you don't let it burden you, not when you rarely interact with the servants on that level. But then there is Laurens. At most, you received a distrait nod and a small smile from him before he moves on. But such an action has never been repeated. You simply wish to gain his admiration as your teacher. To have him finally look upon you and, with a nod, say that you have met not only his conditions but exceeded them. <<include "Z0.10.02">>
Laurens sighs, a short and irritated one that tells you all that you need to know. "Go," he orders, "go and get some food. We will discuss this later." "Lau-," you attempt but grow quiet when he glares at you. You clench your fists so tightly that your nails dig deep into your palm. "We will discuss this later." He leaves and the guards follow behind, neither daring to say a word to you as they depart. You calm your breathing and once you think you are okay, you begin to walk forward, leaving the room and approaching a set of stairs. Each step holds its own form of torture on legs far too weak to be performing such actions. Halfway down and you freeze, leaning on the wall to not only catch your breath but to recover from the short exertion. A teardrop slips down your cheek, <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>and in anger you push it away. This anger soars through you, furious not only because of the tear but also due to your inability to make it down a set of stairs. Stairs that you have marched up and down many times. You have even crawled but you did it, and now you falter? Why!?<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>and you wish to let so many more go. The want to slip down the wall and drown yourself in tears and to free the suffering that you constantly keep bottled up inside. It swarms through you, a selfish and wistful tangling of emotions that you seek to do away with.<<else>>and though you feel it, no emotion seems to strike you. To cry and yet feel nothing behind it. An action, despite its connotations, feels the same as any other.<</if>> <a data-passage="Z0.11"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You tap the wall with short and abrupt knocks, fighting the need to punch it and focusing on the minimal stinging pain in your knuckles. Once a great deal of the anger slips away, you navigate the rest of the way down and head towards the kitchen.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>You bite down on your lip, warning the tears to leave you and for the whimpers to cease. Once you bring yourself under control, you navigate the rest of the way down, still aware of the pain that takes over. Entering the kitchen, you see a few servants rushing back and forth, cleaning up the aftermath of dinner.<<else>>You let the moment pass and once ready, navigate the rest of the way down, still aware of the pain that takes over. Entering the kitchen, you see a few servants rushing back and forth, cleaning up the aftermath of dinner.<</if>> "Is there any left?" you question and all the servants pause, none seeming to want to answer you. Most of them avoid your gaze, finding dishes and counters more worthy of their attention. "Of course, we will make you a plate," one of the servants mutters, elbowing the woman beside her. The two of them get to work on your request but do nothing to run off the awkward air that hovers over you all. You are unbothered, this is not the first time the servants have treated you like an outsider. As you wait, you wonder what you will do next. You can always … [[… brush up on your astrology.|0.10.2][$stars +=20]] [[… test yourself on ecology.|0.10.2][$nature +=20]] [[… sharpen your musical skill.|0.10.2][$music +=20]] [[… improve your acrobatics.|0.10.2][$acrobat +=20]] [[… work on your art.|0.10.2][$art +=20]]
Making up your mind, you make your way to the observatory that rests at the top of the tower. Few people ever wander this far up and so its become somewhat of an escape for you. The only downside was that there were no windows and so the child of the wind was constant, forever nipping at your flesh. <<if $stars is 30>>\ Gathering a few books that you hadn't looked through, you take a seat at the lone table. The books detail the many stars and where they were in the sky. You glance towards the window, wishing to get a better view but knowing such a thought was foolish. The mountain's roaming clouds disallowed anything to be seen, not even the sun at times. If tonight was clear, then you may be able to view some of these. You suppose it matters little. You had already seen the signs of an incoming blizzard, nothing would be seen tonight. <<else>>\ You gather a few of the books and begin to flip through them, reading up on astral bodies and the broad topic of the stars. Though you could not yet wrap your head around how it was done, you learn that the stars could be used to navigate and that certain ones held names and stories. You continue to read. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You head to the study, where you run into one of the servants, Nyana'iva. She had been a frequent face initially, but then she chose to abandon you like everyone else before. You remember the hurt when Bane told you the news, but you and dejection had become more than acquaintances by then. Since then, it was uncommon to see her. If you did happen to come across her, it was in mere passing or when you came here, to the study. She bows to you but otherwise stays on her side of the room, her posture far more rigid than it was when you had first entered. <<if $music is 30>>\ You wouldn't call yourself a master, especially since you were still learning how to play the instruments. But that was not to say that you didn't have an outstanding talent. You knew the lute, able to play it with ease, and graduated from the phase of having to receive instruction from servants who would aid you. You had also learned how to play the flute and found doing so to be great fun. Though you could spin and dance with the lute, the flute allowed greater mobility and the cheerful shrill tones made your need to dance all the greater. Today, you wished to continue learning the most formidable instrument thus far, the goctu. It was similar to the flute due to its shared family, both existing in the woodwinds. The difference was that the goctu was played downwards at an angle that you found foreign, and its holes exist near the base and then further down towards the end. It was able to hit the same notes as the flute with the addition of much lower registers. In the end, it created an almost sullen, melancholy tune that reminded you of stormy nights and dark, wistful tales. Grabbing one of the booklets, you continue to learn it, feeling satisfied by the time you put an end to the lessons. <<else>>\ Learning to play one of the instruments has been something you continuously put off. More so because you much rather listen to the other servants play than awkwardly make your way around the strings and surfaces of the various instruments to choose from. In the end, you choose the lute, you grab one of the booklets and teach yourself where to place your hands and how to hold it. The time was spent mostly learning the hand placements, how to tune, and how to avoid breaking the strings. Once your mind can take no more, you abandon the task and head towards the door. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You head to the study, where you run into one of the servants, Nyana'iva. She had been a frequent face initially, but then she chose to abandon you like everyone else before. You remember the hurt when Bane told you the news, but you and dejection had become more than acquaintances by then. Since then, it was uncommon to see her. If you did happen to come across her, it was in mere passing or when you came here, to the study. She bows to you but otherwise stays on her side of the room, her posture far more rigid than it was when you had first entered. <<if $acrobat is 30>>\ You typically do acrobatics in your spare time, and so this wasn’t new to you. Heading over to the mats, you take your time stretching and warming yourself up as much as you can. After that, the routine begins. A series of flips and cartwheels before working up to more advanced moves. You get carried away, pushing yourself further than you’ve done in the past. <<else>>\ You usually did other things; exercising and performing stunts had never grabbed your attention, but perhaps you should pay more attention to it, especially since it could probably aid you in combat. Not only would it allow you to burn off energy that plagued you, but it also could help strengthen you for the future. To start, you stretch and practice with beginner flips. You pay more attention to improving your balance and flexibility. You didn’t wish to strain your muscles, but by the time you’re done, it matters none. You could feel the soreness and fatigue set in. The next day will probably be worse. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You head to the study, where you run into one of the servants, Nyana'iva. She had been a frequent face initially, but then she chose to abandon you like everyone else before. You remember the hurt when Bane told you the news, but you and dejection had become more than acquaintances by then. Since then, it was uncommon to see her. If you did happen to come across her, it was in mere passing or when you came here, to the study. She bows to you but otherwise stays on her side of the room, her posture far more rigid than it was when you had first entered. <<if $art is 30>>\ There were a few art pieces that you hadn't finished, most of them of the landscape or purposely blurred images of those walking about the tower. Once, you had attempted to paint the lingering befuddlement inside of you, but … well, you try not to reminisce about how that painting had gone. It felt as if you had transferred all of your inner troubles to the canvas, but at the same time, you felt guilty for placing your questions on its fragile linen surface. In the end, you kept it but buried it deep within your closet to never look on again. Ignoring that, you grab one of the paintings that you had begun of the gardens. It was lively, and you were thankful for the patient birds that had fluttered through and decided to stick around long enough for you to sketch them. Due to your mainly white foreground, you had run out of the paint and, instead of using another color, decided to wait until you could once again use white. Thankfully all of the paint was adequately restocked. You disappear within the work, hearing the birds calling you and the wind that decides that only in the garden will it temper its furor. When you finish, you are left with a bittersweet feeling as you move it to the side to draw. Completing it provides you with relief while also reminding you that it is but another painting that will never be graced by curious eyes. <<else>>\ This wasn't the first time you had decided to focus on drawing, but it was the first time in a long time. The last painting you had done was your attempt at transferring your lingering befuddlement to canvas, and though it did its job, it filled you with a cold chill that took you far too long to recover from. Taking a break from art seemed like the best course, but you have found yourself missing the activity. You grab a brush and one of the spare canvases and though you have a decent idea of what you wish to draw, what comes out on the canvas is less than that. Your strokes can use work, and that isn't even taking into consideration the detail and shading. But it isn't awful. Another painting or two and a lot of dedication will see improvement. You're sure of it. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With your decision made you change clothes and then head out. You were used to the biting chill of the mountain air. Nips across your skin that were negated only by the thick fur coat you possessed. This moment especially reminds you of your dimming flame and how everything feels inevitable. You knew it was the curse's influence but you were still nescient about what this would mean in the end. <<if $positive >=50>>You wish to believe that something could be done to prevent this but being optimistic was not the same as being foolish.<<else>>Perhaps death. You could see no other pathway. The true question was when.<</if>> Shaking the thought from your head you focus on the scenery resting before you. <<if $nature is 30>>\ You had learned about the fauna—the territorial beasts as well as those that were docile. Since being here, you have not yet seen any creatures besides the occasional bird, but even they were rare. Though you had once thought that wasn't strange, the more you learned, the more it dawned on you that every area had native populations. So, where was this one? The best you could guess was that they rest on the outskirts of the mountains. Either that or they just didn't exist. One of the guards had stated that some even live beneath the snow, an interesting idea that could very well be true. <<else>>\ Due to the limited information, you had never gotten into the ecology study. Flora and fauna were interesting, but at most, you would only be able to use that information to name the occasional bird that flits by or the flowers and vegetables in the garden. You suppose that was sufficient. Especially seeing that your earlier years were spent in confusion about how anything could grow in such harsh conditions. So that's what you focus on, expanding your knowledge and better being able to name or have a basic understanding of what everything is and does. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name?" You turn to see a guard approaching, one you aren't familiar with, "The Shadow requests your attendance in Watcher Fennore's office." They don't wait around for questions or comments, slipping away as soon as the summoning is uttered. You leave, thinking about what Bane might want. You've long since learned the hierarchy of the tower. There are the servants who mostly mind their business, though you think that with a snort. Most of the rumors come from them. They just do a decent job of keeping it amongst the servants' circle and away from the guards. If their behavior is anything to go off of, you should believe yourself some creature that amass the fear of others, for the way the servants wither and glance away always remind you of such. Then there are the guards, who at least either care none for you or give their respects. Then there are the Watchers. As far as you know, there are only three, but they hold the authority. They are the enforcers, and they influence everything. You have met Watcher Tyrae, but only when it comes to daily health checkups, otherwise she stays to herself. The one known as Fennore you have only seen from time to time. And the last, Raznith, you come across the most and have spoken to. He is a man of little words but a respectable one. He carries himself with dignity, and though you do not know his story, a deadness resides in his eyes. Then finally, there is Bane. The grandmaster of all of this, the creator, and the woman who gathered them all under one. At first, you knew her only as The Shadow, but then she came to you. And now, you owe her much. <a data-passage="Z0.12.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You head to the office in question, knocking once before opening the door and letting yourself in. The lanterns along the walls cast a warm glow around the mid-size tidy room. You have been here many times before, and as you recount those times, you fail to ever remember a time when this room wasn't in pristine condition. You've never seen a paper out of place or a cobweb decorating a corner. The pictures and charts are hung with the utmost care, and though you know it is a mere exaggeration, you feel that even the flames don't dare sway out of line. Fennore is absent but Bane stands with her back to you, gazing over the woman's collection. She turns as she hears you enter. "$name," Bane greets in a joyful tone but her frown is enduring. You recall that you have never seen the woman smile, haven't seen her do much of anything but frown. She hasn't changed much, the years have not claimed her as they have some. No, that is not entirely true. They devour her differently. Wrinkles do not arise, nor does it seem that weariness grip her bones, or the gray strings of maturity dye her hair. Instead, veins extend farther out, growing darker and pulsing viciously. Varied sized splotches against her pale skin, some appearing as only bruises but others much too dark and corrupted to be mistaken as such. Bags get deeper and though there had never been a light in her eyes, the last glimmers fade. The only times her dark gray eyes do anything more than darken is when she speaks of your purpose and her eyes envision the future. "Bane," you greet, bowing your head. "How have your lessons been going?" You swallow, reading her tone and listening to the words she doesn't say. [[“Well. Fennore has helped with diplomacy.”][$charisma +=10]] [[“I am learning from Raznith different combat techniques.”][$force +=10]] [[“It is odd, but Tyrae has helped with my subtlety.”][$stealth +=10]]
"They have been going well. Fennore has helped me with diplomacy and learning how to read others to know what to say." Bane hums, an obvious sign that she isn't truly listening to you. She takes you in, and you naturally stand taller, your heart beginning to pound as you await her synopsis. <<include "Z0.12.2">>
"Raznith has been advising and showing me different combat techniques. The little things that Laurens is not able to show me. I look forward to actually trying them out on the other soldiers." Bane hums, an obvious sign that she isn't truly listening to you. She takes you in, and you naturally stand taller, your heart beginning to pound as you await her synopsis. <<include "Z0.12.2">>
"It is odd," you start, "as I did not think Tyrae would know much about subtlety. But she has given me so much knowledge on so many topics that I can't possibly utilize them all. I will do my best." Bane hums, an obvious sign that she isn't truly listening to you. She takes you in, and you naturally stand taller, your heart beginning to pound as you await her synopsis. <<include "Z0.12.2">>
Silence engulfs the office, and with each passing second, you fear for what will befall you more and more. Bane's anger has always been swift, and she is hardly merciless. You know that she does what she does out of care for you, this pain will lead to your betterment. You need only endure it. She reaches for your arm, and you stiffen, swallowing the need to want to vomit as you foreshadow a punishement. You have long since stopped caring for why you receive such reprimands and have learned to just accept them with a straight face. Bane always has a reason, whether you know it or not is not important. Her finger trails the scars resting along your arm, "how did you get this one?" You straighten, knowing what she is doing now. [[“I acted instead of following orders.”|0.13BT1][$action +=10; $timid -=5]] [[“I hesitated when following orders.”|0.13BT2][$action -=10; $timid +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Brave ++ | React ++''</span><</if>> "I acted when my orders were for me to remain where I was." That is all you need to say, but your mind continues as if to point out how idiotic you were in the past. Due to your actions, you were punished in the form of having to spend an entire night outside in your undergarments. That night, a blizzard also graced the mountain. You were confident that other parts of your body held remnants of the scars from that night, but Tyrae has managed to heal them. She was instructed to leave the one on your arm, a reminder, she said. Bane proceeds and touches the side of your neck, and again you freeze in fear, pleading silently that you don't invoke her anger. "And this one?" Another that you are well acquainted with and is perhaps the most recent. [[“I was cocky and trusted the wrong person.”|0.13BT3][$cold -=10; $leery -=5]] [[“My lack of respect proved to be my downfall.”|0.13BT4][$cold +=10; $leery +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Timid ++ | Response ++''</span><</if>> "I hesitated when I was given clear orders to act." That is all you need to say, but your mind continues as if to point out how idiotic you were in the past. Due to your actions, you were punished in the form of having to spend an entire night outside in your undergarments. That night, a blizzard also graced the mountain. You were confident that other parts of your body held remnants of the scars from that night, but Tyrae has managed to heal them. She was instructed to leave the one on your arm, a reminder, she said. Bane proceeds and touches the side of your neck, and again you freeze in fear, pleading silently that you don't invoke her anger. "And this one?" Another that you are well acquainted with and is perhaps the most recent. [[“I was cocky and trusted the wrong person.”|0.13BT3][$cold -=10; $leery -=5]] [[“My lack of respect proved to be my downfall.”|0.13BT4][$cold +=10; $leery +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Naive ++ | Warm ++''</span><</if>> "I was cocky," you admit, though the word feels wrong. It wasn't that you were cocky at all, just open and talkative, and that proved to be your downfall. "I said things to the wrong person." Bane nods as she begins to walk around you, your mind going back to that day. How confused you had been as guards pulled you to the battlements. And there stood the guard you had spoken of, a misunderstanding as they pulled out their blade. You had still been deep in training, your muscles too sore to defend yourself. Not to mention that your defeat caused many to question Laurens, and for that, you were granted another punishment. You squeeze your eyes shut, shouting at yourself to embrace what has happened. That is the only way to move forward. "Last one," Bane whispers, her hand moving against your back. "These?" [[“Those are punishments.”|0.13BT5][$trouble +=10; $positive -=10]] [[“Those are lessons.”|0.13BT6][$trouble -=10; $positive +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Leery ++ | Cold ++''</span><</if>> "My lack of respect proved to be my downfall," you admit. Bane nods as she begins to walk around you, your mind going back to that day. You recall how your mouth got the better of you and then a minute later, you were being pulled to the battlements. Everyone shouting as the guard you had spoken ill of pulled out their blade. You had still been deep in training, your muscles too sore to defend yourself. Not to mention that your defeat caused many to question Laurens, and for that, you were granted another punishment. You squeeze your eyes shut, shouting at yourself to embrace what has happened. That is the only way to move forward. [[“Those are punishments.”|0.13BT5][$trouble +=10; $positive -=10]] [[“Those are lessons.”|0.13BT6][$trouble -=10; $positive +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Hellion ++ | Bleak ++''</span><</if>> Your mind flashes with an image of your back. The many lines that decorate the skin, varying in length, width, and direction. <<if $scar is "back">>There is only one scar there whose story you can recall, and out of all your scars, it is the worse.<</if>> "Punishments. Those represent my punishments." <<include "Z0.12.3">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Legate ++ | Hopeful ++''</span><</if>> Your mind flashes with an image of your back. The many lines that decorate the skin, varying in length, width, and direction. <<if $scar is "back">>There is only one scar there whose story you can recall, and out of all your scars, it was the worse.<</if>> "Lessons. Those represent my lessons." <<include "Z0.12.3">>
Bane walks in front of you, "and have you learned nothing? Fifteen years of raising you to be something greater, and you fail more with each passing day." You bow, gritting your teeth, not wishing to see the disappointment in her eyes. "No." "No? Then what do you call what happened the other day? For years I have cared for you. I saved you from the abuse of those who would wish you dead. I have given you purpose and shelter. What have you given me?" "No!" you shout, not knowing how she will receive your outburst. You fall to a knee and bow your head, your body trembling, "forgive me. I am …" Trying? Attempting? What can you say that will make any of this better? That will stave off the guilt that now riddles you completely. She is right. She has given her life to you and helping you to prosper. Where others saw a weak, abandoned child, she saw a warrior who only needed a helping hand. She and Laurens both saw something in you that no one else did, and how did you repay them? "Tell me this one thing," she places a finger under your chin, "do you think you are ready for what is to come?" [[Answer in doubt.|Z0.12Doubt][$purpose to "lost"]] [[Answer with confidence.|Z0.12Confidence][$purpose to "confident"]] [[Answer to simply please her.|Z0.12WeWillSee][$purpose to "freedom"]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Bane is disappointed in your reply. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> "I doubt myself," you admit, your heart thumping wildly as you expect her to strike you. When nothing comes, you glance up to see her gazing at you with pity and something else in her eyes, something that she is unable to display but is there. You close your eyes and hang your head, feeling your insides shift in sorrow. You have been honest but seeing her disappointment, it hurts. "How unfortunate," she murmurs, "you are dismissed." You dare not linger. With a bow, you see your way out of the office and back to your own room, wishing to bring an end to a day that has gone by far too quick. <a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Bane appreciates your reply. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> "I am ready to serve you. To fulfill my purpose and meet my destiny head-on." You've thought such words but have never said them aloud. You expect to feel doubt, and though not entirely devoid of such feeling, it isn't as severe as you previously perceived. You don't know what you are here for and what Bane needs you for. What any of the training will lead to. But you are confident in your path and future. Bane stares at you for a moment longer before nodding. "For the first time, I will trust you and take you at your word. But we will see. You are dismissed." You dare not linger. With a bow, you see your way out of the office and back to your own room, wishing to bring an end to a day that has gone by far too quick. <a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Bane disliked your reply. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> "Yes," you answer, "for //whatever// is to come." Her grip on your chin tightens and her nails dig into your flesh, just a bit more and she will puncture skin. You swallow the pain, knowing that showing any amount of agony in front of Bane is unwise and will likely grant something far harsher. "You think yourself clever?" she growls, "do you think I don't hear the derision in your voice, you ungrateful child." She takes a deep breath in and nods, "I will see to your next punishment then. You are dismissed." Your mouth opens and closes, part of you wishing to explain why you said what you did, but what is there to explain? You meant what you said. Once, you were confident in your place here, but that feels like such a long time ago. Now, your only purpose is to survive. Survive and somehow live a life you dream of. With a bow, you see your way out of the office and back to your own room, afraid of what the following night and day will bring. <a data-passage="0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Naive ++ | Legate ++''</span><</if>> You raise your hands as if to surrender, "I'll do whatever you ask. Answer any questions that you have. Please, just don't kill me." He snorts, "just one. And chances are I'll still kill you." Despite the threat, he sheathes both of his swords and approaches. You force yourself to take in a shaky breath, exhaling and telling yourself that as long as you cooperate, you will be fine. Your mind keeps saying that this is a test, you doubt Bane cares about the life of two guards when she can teach you something vital. "Where's Phoenix? Is there one here?" "It's me." He cocks his head to the side and raises a brow before smirking. "Lucky me. Come. Cooperate, and you won't die." You're about to comment but are cut off by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. The warning bells, you are only shocked that it took this long for them to ring them. But this also quiets your earlier assumptions, this is no test. This is real. <a data-passage="Z0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Cold ++ | React ++''</span><</if>> You narrow your gaze on the assailant and possibly the last face you would ever see, "if you're going to kill me, then get it over with. I will not beg." "Saves me the headache," he retorts but never swings his blade. He studies you for a while longer, cocking his head to the side and causing his red locks to fall to one shoulder. "What's your name? Full name." Your mind keeps saying that this is a test, you doubt Bane cares about the life of two guards when she can teach you something vital. You are unsure if answering is wise but see no reason not to, "$name $surname." "Of course it is," he murmurs, sheathing his sword, "lucky me, I suppose. Come. Cooperate, and you won't die." You're about to comment but are cut off by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. The warning bells, you are only shocked that it took this long for them to ring them. But this also quiets your earlier assumptions, this is no test. This is real. <a data-passage="Z0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ruben liked what you said. This will have an impact in the future.<</notify>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Respond ++ | Hopeful ++''</span><</if>> You attempt to summon your full height, refusing to stare down death and be terrified. No, you were no longer fearful of death, not like you were in the past. "Kill me, but first, tell me why." This seems to more so spark his curiosity than anger him, "you think you deserve a reason? What makes you better than them?" He motions to the two guards whose blood now coats both them and the floor. "I asked," you answer simply, and he chuckles, nodding his head. "It would honestly be a shame to kill you. Tell me, do you know if I can find a phoenix here by any chance?" You notice that though he seems to be more at ease, his sword is still out, a constant reminder that you are still an adversary. It'd be wise to cooperate, even though you're unsure what he wants with you. Your mind keeps saying that this is a test, you doubt Bane cares about the life of two guards when she can teach you something vital. "I would be that phoenix." His eyes lighten enough to almost cause them to match his crimson-colored hair. "Lucky me, I suppose. Come. Cooperate, and you won't die." You're about to comment but are cut off by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. The warning bells, you are only shocked that it took this long for them to ring them. But this also quiets your earlier assumptions, this is no test. This is real. <a data-passage="Z0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Leery ++ | Action ++''</span><</if>> You see the sword, and without even glancing around you for a proper route, you move to the side to dodge. You meet the wall, but it doesn't matter. You had a shot past him to run or attack him from behind. That much you'll figure out after you're out of range of his sword. Before you can successfully make it past him, though, the unknown assailant grabs you and keeps you anchored in place. "Not so fast. I need answers." "Release me," you growl, fighting his grip, but he doesn't let up, and it is clear that his patience is beginning to waver. "What's your name? Full name." Your mind keeps saying that this is a test. You doubt Bane cares about the life of two guards when she can teach you something vital. You are unsure if answering is wise but see no reason not to, "$name $surname." "Of course it is," he murmurs, sheathing his sword, "lucky me, I suppose. Come. Cooperate, and you won't die." You're about to comment but are cut off by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. The warning bells, you are only shocked that it took this long for them to ring them. But this also quiets your earlier assumptions, this is no test. This is real. <a data-passage="Z0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ruben likes your attitude. This will have an impact in the future.<</notify>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''React ++ | Brave ++''</span><</if>> You launch yourself at the man, attempting to beat his swinging hand and successfully cause him to stumble and fall. This plan doesn't exactly work as he shifts his footing just enough that your own actions cause you to continue forward, and instead of plowing into him, you're meeting the floor. "I have to respect the attempt at least," he chuckles, bringing his sword down onto a loose part of your clothing and then leaning on it. You are stuck, and even ripping the cloth surrounding the blade proves hard to do. You attempt to still attack him, using your legs and arms to reach for him, but he's always just out of reach. "Tell me, do you know if I can find a phoenix here by any chance?" It would be best to cooperate, even though you're unsure what he wants with you. Your mind keeps saying that this is a test. You doubt Bane cares about the life of two guards when she can teach you something vital. "I would be that phoenix." His eyes lighten enough to almost cause them to match his crimson-colored hair. "Lucky me, I suppose. Come. Cooperate, and you won't die." You're about to comment but are cut off by the resonant sounds of a gong being struck. The warning bells, you are only shocked that it took this long for them to ring them. But this also quiets your earlier assumptions, this is no test. This is real. <a data-passage="Z0.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The unknown man pulls you towards the stairs, <<if $notouchy>>seeming to grow as impatient as you as you fight against his hold. The sounds of fighting increase and your attention shifts.<<else>>and the sounds of fighting increase.<</if>> Not just that, you begin to see dead bodies, their blood still skating down the walls where their last screams will be forever kept. Panic and adrenaline slowly settle in, and you become more alert. You realize that you need to do something. This man and whoever he has brought are attacking your home, and you are otherwise allowing it. [[Do nothing for now.|0.15ZNothing][$action -=5]] [[Fight him off.|0.15ZFight][$action +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Respond ++''</span><</if>> This man didn't come alone. And even if he did, if by some chance all of this work is his alone, it should make you even wearier of crossing blades with him. You know how to fight and defend yourself, but that doesn't mean you are ready to take on someone with this much experience. No, it is wiser to wait and see what this is and where it will lead. You will then start planning around that. The two of you get to the bottom of the stairs just as a figure whips around, a sword pointed at the intruder's neck. <<include "0.15Zarik2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''React ++''</span><</if>> It is wise to do whatever you are planning to do now. You have no idea how many fighters he brought with him and what will happen once you make it down these stairs. But what to do? Trip him? There is a good chance that he will survive the fall, but you will at least have a few more minutes to think about your following action. You glance over at him and find that it is the only sensible thing to do. Otherwise, your strength will not win this. You prepare to do as you plan when the figure tightens his hold on you and pushes you down the rest of the way first. There's no time to even question and reevaluate as a figure whips around and points a sword at the intruder's neck. <<include "0.15Zarik2">>
"Shit," the red-haired man mumbles. "Ruben, it's nice to see you." This new figure looks like the opposite of your current kidnapper. Whereas he reminds you of a violent winter, this new person brings thoughts of a warm and pleasant autumn evening. Their warm tones complimenting their dark tan and blonde hair. Their eyes are similar to Laurens' in the fact that they are slits, though now that you look, both of them seem to share the same pupil type. "Told you I'd get here first." The second person ignores him, their eyes fleeing to you, and oddly enough, you find something familiar there. You suspect that you're not the only one as their eyes soften immediately, slits becoming round as they peer upon you as if you are an old friend. "$name, I can't believe it's really you." They take a step closer, "do you remember me at all? Nouritis?" The sound of their name alone brings back blurry childhood memories that you kept locked away in a hidden nook. Images of a golden-eyed little kid whose energy knew no limits. How the two of you would play amongst the fields of your home and lay underneath the sun, basking and reveling in your youth. "Nour?" you question, taking a step towards them as if you need a closer look to truly understand that the person before you is truly them. They open their mouth, but the other man, Ruben, responds instead, "cute. Nauseatingly so. But if you excuse us, I have an heir to deliver." Ruben moves to the left, but Nour blocks him. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You must be crazy if you think I'm going to let you go anywhere with $name." "My respect for you measures up to that of shit," Ruben sighs, appearing quite bored with the exchange, "simply move before I feel the need to wet my blade further." Nour refuses, their sword appearing back at Ruben's neck, but in the same blink, Ruben's sword rests against yours. "Now I want you to consider this," Ruben speaks, leaning in and forcing Nour to take a staggering step back, "how much do you think I care about delivering a corpse instead of a breathing person? I'll sleep safe and sound, but will you, Nour?" Nour glances at you as if you have an answer, but you are still far too worried about what you are to do. Your shared connection does not change the fact that this is your home, and though you don't believe Nour has anything to do with all that happened, you are unwilling to accompany either. "Ruben. We can speak about this." <<if $notouchy>>"Release me! I will walk whichever way you wish just let go!" You shout it, hoping he'll listen and you will finally be free of his unnecessary touch. But Ruben ignores you, yanking you down yet another hallway while Nour follows behind like a lost cub.<<else>>"I'm sure. You like to do that a lot, talking I mean," Ruben chuckles, already moving on towards a hallway, Nour following like a lost cub.<</if>> You search for someone of the tower but fail to find anyone who can help. The few you do see are busy fighting for their lives against people belonging to either Ruben or Nour. Escaping will be far too hard now. Not only are you at the mercy of Ruben, whose care for your life seems to diminish every second Nour trails behind you. But then you also have to deal with Nour, though you are willing to bet that they will not be as aggressive. "Why do you care about $name?" "Do not ask stupid questions, Nour," Ruben grumbles, coming to a stop. "I am here for the same reason as you." You now linger in the hall leading to the outside world. Part of you wishes to listen, to learn why they are here but the other part knows that you need to concentrate and escape. Standing a few feet ahead are four guards, all with weapons and their backs to you and regardless of Ruben's and Nour's bickering, they have yet to take notice. [[Alert the guards.|0.15ZForce][$force +=5]] [[Whistle.|0.15ZStealth][$stealth +=5]] [[Speak to Ruben and Nour, loudly.|0.15ZCharisma][$charisma +=5]]
"Hey!" you shout, uncaring that Ruben and Nour will take notice and act. If it means that Ruben will at least release you, then you are okay with it. The four guards turn around, and Ruben and Nour end their bickering. For a second, all is still, and then they rush at one another. You find your freedom, but before you can accurately plot your escape route, you hear something whistle through the air and a beautiful yet haunting voice chanting words of unknown origin. The next minute, two of the four guards are being electrocuted, and they fall to their knees. The other two are killed at the hands of Nour and Ruben. <<include "0.15Zarik4">>
While they bicker, you whistle, one soft enough to go unnoticed by those not on guard but not by those awaiting an attack at any minute. The four guards turn around, spotting you and then the bickering duo. For a second, all is still, and then the guards rush forward, giving away their presence by shouting. In any case, you find your freedom, but before you can accurately plot your escape route, you hear something whistle through the air and a beautiful yet haunting voice chanting words of unknown origin. The next minute, two of the four guards are being electrocuted, and they fall to their knees. The other two are killed at the hands of Nour and Ruben. <<include "0.15Zarik4">>
You glance at Nour and then the guards, a plan forming in your mind. "You should let me go," you voice, speaking loud enough for the guards to hear you, "either that or at least tell me why you did this. Why murder all of these innocent people?" The four guards turn around, spotting you and then the no longer bickering duo. "Innocent people?" Nour inquires, "what makes you think they're innocent. They have you trapped here, $name." For a second, all is still, and then the guards rush forward, giving away their presence by shouting. In any case, you find your freedom, but but before you can accurately plot your escape route, you hear something whistle through the air and a beautiful yet haunting voice chanting words of unknown origin. The next minute, two of the four guards are being electrocuted, and they fall to their knees. The other two are killed at the hands of Nour and Ruben. <<include "0.15Zarik4">>
"You two know nothing but violence," a voice points out, and you watch as a woman enters. Her blue hair shimmering in the faint moonlight, a whip in her hands whose glow slowly begins to fade along with tattoos lying against her dark skin. "Ozara? Why are you here?" Nour questions. "Same as you." Nour stiffens, "I'm not here for a prize." Ruben snorts, "are you so sure? I feel if that was true, then you would have already found this place." Nour rounds on him, "do not speak as if you know me, cretin." Ruben takes a step forward as well, but you are more concerned with the hand around your mouth, yanking you backward. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You struggle, wishing you had run away before being recaptured. It was idiotic to stay, your curiosity getting the better of you. This will not happen again. You only need to size up your next kidnapper. But you soon find the task futile. Laurens removes his hand as he looks past you and down the hall. "Come with me. Now." You simply nod, fearing that the three will soon realize that you are no longer there. He rushes off and you follow, only daring to speak when you believe the others will no longer hear. "What's going on, Laurens?" "What does it look like?" he asks you, "the houses have come to bring you back for their own benefit." "You don't seem shocked by any of this." "Because I'm not. I had a feeling something like this would soon happen. The question was always when. Now, quiet." You backtrack through the halls with Laurens, approaching a second exit that you know leads to the battlements. You then understand his plan which is to scale the side of the walls and escape. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik5.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You climb the stairs and open the door, hearing the sounds of fierce winds and war cries. Glancing over the edge of the merlon, you see the courtyard in complete chaos. Fallen bodies litter the ground, and your heart trembles as you realize that most of them are your own. Servants and guards alike. "They're massacring us." "Come," Laurens growls, seizing your hand and yanking you behind him. "How did they kill us so fast?" "Three against one faction and unprepardness. No more questions. They are dead. There is nothing we can do." "But those alive." He whips around and slaps you, pulling you close enough for you to see the fear that appears in his eyes. "Do not question me, $name. Shut up and -" You gasp as an incredibly large figure emerges from the blizzard's relentless winds, a dragon crashing into the battlements. At first, it seems as if the ramparts will hold, proving to you that it is as impenetrable as you always believed. But this mirage does not last, and finally, the trembling gives way to crumbling. You scream as you go tumbling down, rocks and debris falling all around you as you land in a heap. You protect your head from any further blows and wait for everything to settle. Your body ignites in pain as the trauma from your latest torture resurfaces. [[Get a good look around you.|0.15ZGoodLook]] [[Call for Laurens.|0.15ZCallLaurens]] [[Just lie there.|0.15ZJustLieThere]]
Slowly, your vision begins to right itself, and the world is no longer one intense scream of white light, clashing with that of the darkness for control. Colors start to make sense, shapes begin to form, and pain tightens its hold on you. You glance over yourself, finding that your calf is sliced open and bleeding profusely while your arms hold more minor cuts. Perhaps it is the adrenaline, but you understand that years of pain have helped you become numb to it as well. For now, this wound can wait. <<include "0.15Zarik6">>
Taking a moment to become reacquainted with the world, you sit up and look for your trainer. "Laurens?" you call out but hear no response. He can't be dead, can he? //Yes. Yes, he can.// The way these rocks fell, it is a shock that you survived and with minor wounds. You glance over yourself, finding that your calf is sliced open and bleeding profusely while your arms hold more minor cuts. Perhaps it is the adrenaline, but you understand that years of pain have helped you become numb to it as well. For now, this wound can wait. <<include "0.15Zarik6">>
For now, you lie there, not wishing to move. You will have to see what that fall did to your body. There is no way you made it out unscathed. And then you will also have to search for Laurens. To make it out of here, it is starting to seem like you will need to fight, and with each passing minute, you realize that such a task is becoming harder to perform. You can still function but pain is beginning to topple your natural discipline. You glance over yourself, finding that your calf is sliced open and bleeding profusely while your arms hold more minor cuts. Perhaps it is the adrenaline, but you understand that years of pain have helped you become numb to it as well. For now, this wound can wait. <<include "0.15Zarik6">>
You glance around, pointing out those you know and those that you don't. The battlefield is littered, but at least you fail to see the three from earlier. How did they know you were here? Who sent them? Why now? Does Bane know? Where is she? There are too many questions to consider, and each one gifts you with an additional piece to a puzzle of your own doom and headache. This can come later. For now, you must focus. Getting to your feet, you tell yourself that you need to leave this place and find a guard or Laurens and run to the nearby village. They are your allies, as far as you know. They can help you, provide you with shelter and allow you to figure out what comes next. But before any of that can happen, you need to find your way out of this area. You eye the field until you see the gates. Thankfully they are destroyed as well. With a destination in sight, you waste no time. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You hobble towards the collapsed gate on a wounded leg, dodging those who get too close and avoiding the nearby fights. You are almost there. So close. You are so close. You can make it! You trip over a broken wooden piece, cutting your hands on some of the exposed fragments but refuse to let that deter you. What comes next, you don't rightfully know, but you will make do. "Head to the village," you mumble to yourself, "head to the village and figure it out from there." The problem is that you have never been to the village. You only know of its existence because of the servants and guards telling you. A hand grasping onto your shirt pulls you out of your own thoughts, and you turn to see someone, their clothing identifying them as an enemy. [[Do whatever it takes to get them off of you.|0.15ZDoWhatever][$action +=5]] [[Behave as if you're going to surrender.|0.15ZSurrender][$action -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''React ++''</span><</if>> All of Laurens teachings come back to you, and even with injuries, you pounce on the person, delivering a punch to their face and then neck. Before they can place one of their own, you roll off of them, kicking out and hitting them square in the chin. Two hands seize your arms, and you push off and upwards, your head colliding with their nose. Both of you stumble to the ground, but you are not the one in pain, and you move away. You turn to see who else is approaching when you spot the three from earlier, each gazing around and never straying far from the other. <<include "0.15Zarik8">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">''Respond ++''</span><</if>> You pause, raising your hands as if to surrender and hoping that your adversary would lower their guard. A look of shock appears on their face, and you utilize it, moving in to deliver a punch to their cheek and then neck. Before they can place one of their own, you roll off of them, kicking out and hitting them square in the chin. Two hands seize your arms, and you push off and upwards, your head colliding with their nose. Both of you stumble to the ground, but you are not the one in pain, and you move away. You turn to see who else is approaching when you spot the three from earlier, each gazing around and never straying far from the other. <<include "0.15Zarik8">>
They are looking for you, you know it. Though you don't hear them, you see their mouth moving as they shout, and many of those that do listen to them stop. They begin to search as well, abandoning fights just to do whatever is asked of them. You turn and head back to the gates and escape. No stopping. No indecision. Just fleeing. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik8.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You stick close to the walls but head nowhere in particular, just wishing to put as much distance between you and the tower as you can. Your heart thumps wildly as you go, but just like all the other times, reality chooses to remind you that it will never back down so easily. Someone grabs your wrist, and with instinct and knowledge fueling your actions, you kick back with your uninjured leg, aiming for the person's knee. For a mere second, they release you but only to strike at your injured leg, sending you crumbling to the ground but never reaching it. At the last minute, they catch and spin you so that your back slams into the wall, their forearm pressed against your neck, any amount of additional pressure will see you choking. Two figures approach, and your attacker moves back just as one presses in. His foot kicks you into the wall before he grabs his first opponent and pushes them away. He reaches for a weapon you did not see initially, a long sickle-shaped one whose tip ends in a deadly ridged point and whose main body appears just as lethal. In one slice of his blade, he wards off the attacker's sword, and in the second, he grabs an identical blade in his free hand and decapitates them. "Ahh!" the first screams charging forward as your attacker sheathes one blade and places the second to your neck, showing no awareness of his charging opponent. "//<<link 'Shuba d’amïï'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Kidii'>>found in the Kidii language. ''shuba d’amïï'' Translates into 'blade magic.' Needing body and spirit activations, this spell allows the caster to create a magic blade for use. It can only be used by those with a ludá in illusion.<</dialog>><</link>>,//" he utters and then launches a blade that was not there before at the opponent. They fall to their knees, and though fighting continues on elsewhere, the space between the two of you is deathly silent. <a data-passage="0.15Zarik8.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I'd warn against doing anything stupid," he finally speaks, removing the blade he keeps near your neck and returning it to the scabbard resting on his back. <<if $action >=50>>You don't heed his warning, attempting to headbutt him and failing as he replaces his forearm near your neck and increases the pressure until you begin to choke. Your eyes widen as you claw at his hand and arm, your nail digging into something that isn't flesh, while your other hand does. You have little time to consider the implications of this. Your vision is beginning to blur, and your throat aches. You kick and claw and thrash, but the stranger does not let up. Darkness begins to encroach.<<else>> You think about your situation, weighing the implications of fighting him versus doing as he says. You aren't sure what it is, the seriousness in his tone, or the fact that he can easily execute you where you stand. Either way, you accept, doing your best to nod as you relax your body to show you will not be a threat.<</if>> <<if $action >=50>>\ Then air! Air rushes through your lungs and you, full of greed, cling to it as if it was the last gasp you will ever take. You take gulp after gulp until you're coughing from overconsumption, but even then, you want more. Craving it. When you finally are aware of your surroundings again, you find your wrists tied and over the shoulder of whoever had attacked you previously. "Release me," you order, thrashing, but he continues on. "I decided not to choke you long enough to cause you to blackout. Do not have me regret my decision." Your mouth closes, not knowing how to respond to the response. <<else>>\ "Smart." Aggressively, he releases you but then shoves you back into the wall, grabbing both hands and chaining them. "I surrendered," you blurt, and he turns you around, bringing you close. The darkness disallows you from making out most of his face, but you very clearly can see his eyes. A stern amethyst tint mixing with a dreamy white at the center, causing more confusion than anything else within you. Believing the eyes of the man who might kill you to be pretty seems farfetched and idiotic. "Wise yet weak." He grabs your arm and <<if $notouchy>>you shy away on instinct. And though he grunts in irritation, this time he simply directs you towards the darkness.<<else>>pushes you forward, directing you towards the darkness.<</if>> At least it is away from the chaos that consumes the tower, but that thought does little to actually fill you with joy. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="Z0.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Continuing on, you spot at least five more figures ahead. <<if $action >=50>>The mysterious stranger setting you down and passing you to one of them.<<else>>The mysterious stranger pushing you towards one of them.<</if>> "Take ?her to the cave. I will be there momentarily." They grunt in acknowledgment and do as they are told. "<<link 'Bagii'>><<dialog 'Glossary - Kidii'>>found in the Kidii language. ''bagii'' /baˈɣiː/ v. activate. One of the most common words to use as it is needed to activate any spell.<</dialog>><</link>>." You hear the man shout, but that is all before those whose care you have been transferred to pushes you forward. "Who are you?" you find yourself asking, sick of the silence. Neither of them answers. They don't even seem to have heard you. "Answer me," you urge, but again they show no sign of being responsive. What will become of you? At least with Nour, you have a past. And though that means little to nothing, they wouldn't hurt you. But can the same be said about whoever these people are? And who sent them? Why did they come? After all this time, what could have shifted for them to finally seek you out? Your mind begins to pound from all the questions, and something warns you that your captors will not answer any of them. You wish to sit down and recollect yourself. To also tend to the wounds that are now beginning to irk you, probably tired of being ignored. In fact, if you do not see to the one on your leg soon, you will probably pay for it. The cold is better for a fresh new open wound, but that is in moderation and under surveillance. Your hands are also still bleeding, the cuts from earlier appearing to have gone deeper than you initially expected. <a data-passage="Z0.14.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You're unsure what you should do. You don't trust these people but running wild through the mountains at night with no sense of direction is not a wise plan either. None of your plans have exactly panned out since this night began. You doubt those will either. And so, you continue to follow the captors. They lead you to a cave, one filled with tents and others who perk up when you enter. They eye you for a second before approaching the guards. No one exchanges words, but you notice their hands moving, performing symbols and actions that cause you to grow curious. Is this how they speak? With their hands instead of words? But then the man from earlier was able to communicate with you, so you doubt they don't know how to speak your language. <a data-passage="Z0.14.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The more these strangers ignore you and the longer you are left to sit and think, the more the events of today come toppling onto your shoulders. The tower. Your home for so many years has just attacked and perhaps destroyed in the process. How many people lost their lives today? The Watchers, Bane, and Laurens, you don't know where any of them are and if they are even still alive. What will become of you? A nauseating feeling encompasses you, one that wills you to vomit, but you keep such contents inside you. Clutching your head, you silence your thoughts, but they refuse. Instead, they grow in intensity. Each screaming a new fear and problem. They thunder across your mind, and you are at their mercy. Before, you were unsure when this life of yours would find its purpose. Only being told 'soon' and 'one of these days.' And now, it will never come. All of it has come crashing down in a heap of debris and flames. What will become of the flightless phoenix now? The one with neither a home nor a destiny in sight. <a data-passage="Z0.End"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Those crowded around the entrance rush out the way as the banji leopard canters in, waiting for his rider to dismount before freeing his fur of the freshly fallen snow. "Be at ease, Tahjeera," Zarik whispers into the creature's ear, stroking his coat before abandoning his side and letting others approach. He hides his smirk as the beast snaps at those that try to touch him, stalking further into the temporary shelter and towards the other felines. "Yaotl. Cualli," he snaps, "go and see if any stragglers managed to track us. If so, deal with them." The two men stiffen and bow before setting off, and Zarik calls another forth. "Report." "Ser. House Pegasus, Dragon, Griffin, Ape, and who we believe to be Wolf was reported at the site." "No Chunae?" "No ser." "Casualties?" "Heavy on Wolf and Ape. Some Dragons as well, but the numbers did not reach over five from what I gathered." "I want two guards at the mouth. Switch every other hour until we depart. Tell them to be ready to greet Ari Baz when he does appear." "It will be done." They dart off, and yet again, Zarik calls for another. "How well do you think you and two others can traverse this blizzard?" The scout narrows their eyes, staring at the view before humming in acceptance. "With no problem, my Khan." "Then take two and head to the nearby village. Return if it is not suitable, only send one if it is and we will join you." Zarik leaves their side, overlooking all those within when his eyes land on the phoenix. Though ?she <<verb 'appears'>> unhappy, ?she <<verb 'allows'>> the healer to see to ?her_ leg, and that is as much as Zarik cares extends. His true thoughts are on the other houses and the possibility of them being discovered. His hope is that they will be confused on who took the heir, but his doubts are high. The pegasus are sensitive to magic; they can trace it back to them with perhaps little trouble. And the griffins and dragons will probably identify their smell. And then there is this blizzard, spelling their doom or becoming an unexpected ally. He leans on the wall and stares out at the expanse before them. It seems that time will tell. <a data-passage="0EndZarik"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Bane sits in silence, staring at the hourglass resting in her lap. The tiny pieces of gravel falling through the single passageway and landing in an ever-growing heap. Soon that heap will collapse, no longer supporting the sheer mountain and becoming that of a hill until even that too shifts. Soon, the sand will stop falling, and she isn't sure what will be formed in the end. It is a thought that seems fitting yet bothersome. "You finally begin to fall, my long friend," she whispers against it. She knew this day would come. She has waited for it, but not like this. It's hard to recall the day where her thoughts on $name's future shifted. When she realized that the child could be far more valuable than she initially believed. But to know that those plans may fall ignited not rage but loss. After all this time, will she be disappointed one last time? "My Shadow?" Fennore questions, opening the door. The two other Watchers stand silently behind her. "Laurens has gone to the nearby village in search of the phoenix. If he does not return, then we can assume that either he is dead or found ?her." "He will not fail," Raznith informs them, no hint of doubt in his words, and so Fennore nods. "Your orders?" The Shadow laughs, the sound shaking her entire body, "judgment. That is my order. We wait to see how this little tale will end. It's so close." She grips the hourglass close to her bosom, fearing she may break it but knowing such a thing is impossible. "This will end. The only question is how." <a data-passage="Chapter One: Masked"><img src="images/zarik_ch1.png" alt="Chapter One: Masked" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<set $prologuefin = true; $rc_1 = true; $backheal = false; $visit to 0>> <<unset $behinddoor; $closet; $underneathbed; $drugged; $attack>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "dark" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>> You awake the next day, and your entire body screams out with a tizzy. There is not one muscle and bone that seems to have enjoyed lying on the cold, rock-solid ground. There is also a stinging sensation radiating in your chest, one whose sharp pricks are laced with enmity. But it vanishes before you can question it further, and you surmise that it is due to the excitement of yesternight as well as your sleeping situation. Sitting up, you grimace as you crack a few bones. //At least in the tower, you had a warm bed.// You don't know whether such a thought should fill you with anger or a touch of sadness. Or maybe even relief. [[Anger. You were a prisoner.|R1.01Anger][$anger +=1]] [[Sadness. It was okay to miss some things.|R1.01Sad][$sad +=1]] [[Relief. You would move on.|R1.01Numb][$numb +=1]]
None of that was your choice. You were taken and held against your will as a captive. You were abused <<if $nosa>>in every sense of the word<<else>>and you had been raped<</if>>. The lingering scars will perhaps last while others disappear. To the naked eye, you will seem as healthy and preserved as any other. But then … that only speaks of the visual scars. That fails to account for the ones that are buried much deeper. They claw past your flesh and settle on your psyche, claiming land that isn't theirs to claim. You clear your throat and don't think about it. Instead, you search for your companion and find him at the mouth of the cave. <<if $dungeon>>Before you rise, you test out your back, touching it. Your hand comes back with dried blood and though it is not as painful as before, moving still feels unwise.<</if>> <<include "1.01R">>
That is a good portion of your life, and despite your feelings about it, it made you who you are now. Though ... even that seems to cause the sadness within to stretch into territories of 'what if's' and 'maybe's.' Is it okay to miss the little things that you know were secure? The promise of a meal and a warm bed? The knowledge that even with all the horrors, they would not kill you? That is your life, and any amount of hatred is dangerous to keep harbored. And yet, something can be said about the sadness as well. It all feels so confusing. Part of you telling yourself that it's okay, that it has to be okay to move on. But another telling you that it isn't, that your sadness makes little sense and the last thing you should miss is that tower. You clear your throat and don't think about it. Instead, you search for your companion and find him at the mouth of the cave. <<if $dungeon>>Before you rise, you test out your back, touching it. Your hand comes back with dried blood and though it is not as painful as before, moving still feels unwise.<</if>> <<include "1.01R">>
You don't like the idea of thinking that one is better or worse than the other. Not when you can just move on. You find relief in the fact that your time in the tower has come to an end. And though you don't know what awaits you in the future, there is little you can do about it. But even that, you find yourself hardly focusing on. You aren't in the tower now. You're here, in a cave, with a dragon. Learning to live and experience the present is something you've learned, especially when the future is a mystery you have no control over. You straighten and expel the thoughts from your mind, looking for your rude companion and finding him at the mouth of the cave. <<if $dungeon>>Before you rise, you test out your back, touching it. Your hand comes back with dried blood and though it is not as painful as before, moving still feels unwise.<</if>> <<include "1.01R">>
He stands in silence, taking in the now calm frost landscape. The sun, which is a rare sight, is currently out and providing the fresh snow a crystalline effect, the individual pieces glistening with pride. [[Stay silent.|R1.01Silent]] [[Ask if he slept well.|R1.01Sleep]] [[Make a comment about the sun.|R1.01Sun]]
You remain quiet as you lean against the cavern wall, taking in the peaceful landscape. You are reminded that just the other day, the Watcher claimed you would not be allowed outside until one of them removed the restriction. Funny how fast that changed. "The guards," <<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>the man<<else>>$r_nn<</if>> questions, "how well do they know these mountains?" <<include "1.01.1R">>
"So, did you sleep well?" <<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>The man<<else>>$r_nn<</if>> snorts, "I didn't sleep." "The chill?" "No. That, I am used to." He changes the subject, "the guards, how well do they know these mountains?" <<include "1.01.1R">>
"The sun," you begin, pointing up at the sky, "it never typically comes out. Most times, it's always hidden by the clouds or just not there due to the blizzards." <<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>The man<<else>>$r_nn<</if>> is silent for a while before saying, "then we should make use of it. The guards, how well do they know these mountains?" <<include "1.01.1R">>
You think about his question, not sure if they are well-versed or not, "I don't know. I never heard them speak about it." Thankfully, he doesn't seem shocked or put off by your words. "How about fliers. Do you know if any of them can shift into something that can potentially spot us?" "There are a few of them. I know that at least two of them can turn into an eagle and a hawk." That is if they aren't dead. The thought that you had yesterday while running past motionless bodies once again comes to you. "You killed them, didn't you? All of them?" The life of the guards isn't what bothers you; it is your own well-being. If he indeed killed them all on his own, then what will that say about your survival? It already seems like he's teetering back and forth on the importance of you drawing breath. "Of course I did. Now, shut up. I swear you blabber more than Toz on his fifth mug." [[“Half of my speaking was answering your questions.”|R1.01AnsweringQuestions][$ruben -=3]] [[“Excuse me for being curious.”|R1.01ExcuseMe][$smart +=3]] [[Mutter an apology.|R1.01Apology][$vigor -=3; $ruben +=3]]
"I wouldn't have said much if you hadn't asked me ridiculous questions. Next time you figure them out yourself since I'm such a nuisance." <<include "1.02R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Derisive ++</span><</if>> You bristle, "excuse me for being curious. Because I suppose you wouldn't be after getting yanked from the castle you practically grew up in, by a stranger no less." <<include "1.02R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> You glance away while muttering, "sorry." Both of you leaving it at that. <<include "1.02R">>
He points into the distance, "that way. We'll stick to traveling on the ground to better avoid detection. I'm sure that whole tower is watching the skies for a dragon now." <<if $dressed>>Completely ignoring your last statement, he trudges on, never glancing back to see if you are following.<<else>>He looks you up and down, "what are you wearing?" Not allowing you to answer, he removes his coat and throws it at you. "Put some clothes on, would you." He moves forward, not glancing behind him to see if you are following.<</if>> <<if $dressed>>\ You stretch once more, making sure your body is prepared for whatever is about to happen. Your muscles moan, but otherwise, you're okay. You take a step forward and feel something deep within you stir, something you can't name. It could be shyness or a fear of what awaits you. But something much wiser tells you that it's none of that. You choose to ignore it. If it wishes to make itself known, then it will in later time. <a data-passage="1.02.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $dungeon>>\ You move to put the coat on but the clothing texture rubs up against your back, causing you to grit your teeth in pain and abandon the idea. It will probably be far better for you to go on without it. "What's wrong now?" he growls. "My back," you mutter, handing him back the coat but he doesn't take it. Instead he steps behind you, "I can close them. Cauterize your back." "What is cauterize?" You hear him mumble incoherently but he answers you soon after, "close the wound using fire. Hurts like hell for some but that's better than catching an infection or tearing the wounds more. Though," he narrows his eyes, "you being a phoenix, I don't think you'll feel any of it." "And if I say no?" "Then you better not slow us down. I have a healer back at the camp, she can see to you then." Fiddling with your hands, you think over his proposition. Your worries don't concern the healing portion but him getting close enough to heal you. You ... you don't want anyone to touch you. The entire concept causes you to shiver. [[“Alright, cauterize it.”|R1.01Cauterize]] [[Shake your head and wait for the healer.|R1.01WaitHealer]] <<else>>\ <<if $height is "very short" or $height is "short" or $height is "average">>\ You arduously put on the coat, glancing down at its size compared to you. You are an adult but in that instance you feel like a small child trying on a giant's clothing. You catch the man looking, a satisfied smirk on his face before he turns his back to you. You no longer fear the freezing temperatures as much as you do tripping. You take a step forward and feel something deep within you stir, something you cannot name. It could be shyness or a fear of what will await you. But something much wiser tells you that it is none of that. You choose to ignore it. If it wishes to make itself known, then it will in later time. <<else>>\ You arduously put on the coat and stretch once more, making sure your body is prepared for whatever is about to happen. Your muscles moan, but otherwise, you are okay. You take a step forward and feel something deep within you stir, something you cannot name. It could be shyness or a fear of what will await you. But something much wiser tells you that it is none of that. You choose to ignore it. If it wishes to make itself known, then it will in later time. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.02.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
Biting the inside of your cheek, you nod, "alright, caster - coster ... whatever you said, do it. Be quick." "Being quick will lead to mistakes." He lights his hand on fire and raises a brow, "you'll need to lift your shirt." [[Back out. You can't do this.|R1.01BackOut]] [[Lift your shirt.|R1.01LiftShirt][$backheal = true]]
No. Too much time has gone by, and your nerve has finally caught up to you to warn you how idiotic this plan is. His people can't be far. You will wait for a healer. You say as much to him, and he douses the flame in his hand, moving past you and out into the snow. "Then let's go." Is all he says. You've been through so much. You can make it past this as well. <a data-passage="1.02.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You phase the dragon out, conjuring pictures of healers and warm thoughts that cradle you without suffocation. You think of open grasslands and the warm sun gracing your skin as you pull your shirt up. The image will flicker, sometimes placing you back in the snowy scape while other times, in the tower. Laurens lingers in the shadows, watching you after he has given out an order. You squeeze your eyes shut, even more, doing everything you can to cease the vision of him. Warmth. Just warmth. It envelops you, originating from your back and spreading through your entire being. "Done." Ruben moves away, and the warmth vanishes. "Well, don't just sit there. Stretch your back." You do as he says and though the muscles are still aching, you can move without fear. You nod and with a huff, Ruben leaves you. <a data-passage="1.02.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You shake your head, putting some much needed space between you and the dragon. You glance at his face, seeing a relieved look in his eyes as he trudges past you. You can't be sure, but it seems like he doesn't wish to do so either, the question is why? If he is going to offer, then why not just do it? <a data-passage="1.02.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The two of you make your way through the snow. Though the company is less than pleasing, you find the backdrop more than makes up for it. It's enchanting; surrounding you is the type of snow you always pictured when daydreaming about Celesow's gloriousness. Your current mood is high as well, for you no longer are behind stone walls. At times, you feel like you can see the vague outline in the distance, but after a few more blinks, the mirage is gone. You are free. You are genuinely free. Whether you will be recaptured and dragged right back to the prison, well, that is for fate to decide. For now, you breathe in the fresh air and walk along the ground with no chains to hold you. Fifteen years of that prosaic life. Of being abused and tortured by those who watch over you, of asking yourself when the cycle will end. And now it has. Your knees go weak, and unceremoniously, you fall. You bury your hands within the snow before parting them and watching as it drifts back to the ground. Words can not describe how you feel. The emotions surging through you threaten to rip you apart, each vying to be recognized and acknowledged. [[Anger wins out.|R1.02Anger][$anger +=5]] [[The sadness is forefront.|R1.02Sad][$sad +=5]] [[None of them do, in the end.|R1.02Numb][$numb +=5]]
Beating out all the others is anger. It commands the room with its presence alone, not even having to call upon reinforcements such as the more antsy rage or the quiet killer that is fear. It alone has a legion who falls underneath it on bended knee, causing all other emotions to almost seem minuscule. It perforates the cage around your heart and yells a war cry so mighty that it spurs even you to action. You know how dangerous it can be, how it blindly leads the charge, and how swiftly it falls. But a battle against those who have abused you? Why not. Your greatest want is to see them pay. To see them bleed out and choke on their own tears and blood as they go through what you have to. An image of Laurens pleading for his life as you extinguish it appears. You do not deserve this, but they … they do. <<include "1.03R">>
It's a shy thing, typically staying to the back and out of the spotlight but infecting everything it comes across. It dries the scene of color, leaving only stray splashes that catch one's eye and stir up mournful and bittersweet thoughts. This is how you see the world. A broken kaleidoscope that you are unable to repair. Sadness takes root in the soul, and it branches out, and unlike the other emotions, it does not shift but empower them. It gives meaning even where there indeed isn't any. And though they now have meaning, you do not. You are lost in a field of questions, unable to choose a proper direction. <<include "1.03R">>
In the end, none of the emotions win out. They all scramble, fearing the darkness that has always kept them in check and will continue to do so. Your heart feels hollow without them, but then again, that is what you are used to. Part of you screams for them to return so that you can bask in this moment. But you know how foolish of a thought that is. They are fleeting, they will always be brief, and you will never be whole. <<include "1.03R">>
"Hey!" you glance up to see your ill-mannered rescuer standing a couple feet away, "move your ass, ?princess. I have places to be, and this miserable mountain isn't one of them." <<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>You stand and shake the snow off you<<else>>"Whatever you say, $r_nn," you mumble, standing and shaking the snow off you<</if>>, not picking up your speed but continuing to follow after him at a moderate pace. The thoughts of what this freedom will cost and where it will lead still swivel around in your head. Your attention lands on the man with no name<<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>.<<else>>, though you suppose his nickname will do.<</if>> You have so many questions, but he seems set on not even answering the simplest ones. You need answers. You crave them and feel that you are owed them. "<<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>Hey," you call out<<else>>Hey, $r_nn," you call out, <<if $smart >=50 or $vigor >=50>>smirking<<else>>grinning to yourself<</if>> when you see his shoulders tense<</if>>, "why did you come after me? How did you know where I even was? Did someone send you?" One question turns into three, and you still have many more wishing to leap off your tongue when he turns to face you. <a data-passage="1.03.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I get it. You won't shut up until I answer your questions. Seeing that I want silence and you want answers, I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement." "Arrangement?" "Aliranth preserve me," he whimpers, "yes. An arrangement is where two -" "I am not the idiot you take me for. I know what an arrangement is. I just found it odd that you used it in this context." "Trust me, ?princess. Everything between us is about to be one big arrangement." He turns but waves his hand in a motion that tells you to continue. "So, who are you?" "I already told you my name shouldn't concern you." "But it does. That's something silly to be secretive about." He tilts his head back and releases a gust of flame that expands as it greedily grasps at freedom, "<<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>I'm Ruben Draco, Chieftain of House Dragon."<<else>>fine, if it gets rid of that pitiful thing you call a nickname. I'm Ruben Draco, Chieftain of House Dragon."<</if>> <<if $r_nn is "Ruben">>\ "Chieftain? Impressive title." "It hardly is any greater than your own," he tells you. <<else>>\ "Chieftain? Impressive title ... $r_nn." "It hardly is -," he pauses and tosses you a scowl, saying no more. <</if>>\ <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q1")>>“How do you know who I am?”<<else>>[[“How do you know who I am?”|R1.03Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>>
"How do you know who I am?" "Everyone knows who you are. The Phoenix Heir that disappeared off the face of <<link 'Treces'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The true name for the Forbidden Land, though not widely used. Forbidden Land was popularized by academia who advertised the land as a wild, untamed country. This gained traction and the name stuck. Though, ask any inhabitant of the land and they will tell you that the rightful name is Treces.<</dialog>><</link>>. Stories are told about you, not all of them flattering. I was prepared to meet some grotesque being that would force even the most rebellious child to seek out their bed early. Imagine the face of parents everywhere when they learn their scary phoenix is actually quite attractive." [[Blush, “thank you.”|R1.03Q1Blush]] [[Smirk, “oh, so I'm attractive now?”|R1.03Q1Smirk]] [[Ignore his words.|R1.03Q1Ignore]] [[Shift uneasily but say nothing.|R1.03Q1Shock]]
"Oh, thank you," you blush, wishing to be called attractive instead of a disgusting winged-rat any day. "For what?" Ruben questions, brow raised in confusion. "For the compliment." He smirks, "I don't remember giving you one." <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
You pause at the compliment that flows so smoothly past his lips. Recovering, you smirk, "oh, so you find me attractive now?" "Yes. And horribly annoying, don't forget that trait." And there he goes. <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
You ignore his statement, not wishing to think to much about it. Instead, you choose to ask another question. <<if $visit is 2>>\ <<include "1.04R">> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
You find yourself shifting uneasily. Though these are not words Laurens would say, it is all too soon and far too fresh on your mind. That, and Laurens isn't the only one who will visit and torment you. Others are far nicer, whispering weightless compliments to you as if you can easily deny them. You fight your grimace and shake the thought, and his words, from your mind. Concentrating back on the discussion. <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
"How did you know where I was?" "A very skeptical letter from who I suppose is your father, assuming to know where you would be. No one said anything about a tower, though." "My father?" "That's what I said." You frown, wondering if he knew where to look because he sent you there. Did he know this entire time? <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q1")>>“How do you know who I am?”<<else>>[[“How do you know who I am?”|R1.03Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
"When you were attacking, do you remember killing a Kreol servant woman with blonde, curly hair?" "How am I supposed to know all of those I killed?" Nyana'iva … she could be lying in a pool of her own blood right now. She has been so kind to you, helping make being a captive so much more bearable. And now, your freedom cost her life. "I don't think so," Ruben grumbles, "I don't remember killing anyone in servant wear with blonde hair." You nod thanks, knowing that there is still a chance that she has met her end. <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q1")>>“How do you know who I am?”<<else>>[[“How do you know who I am?”|R1.03Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
"What happens to your clothes when you shift? Shouldn't they tear, or you remove them?" "Are you even a shifter?" he asks a look of bewilderment on his face. "Yes?" "Was that said in doubt?" he shakes his head, "clothes are enchanted to shift with us. All Phaizarn possess them. The fact that you don't know that just proves that your parents did a shitty job raising you. Or should I say your captors?" "Do not joke about that." He shrugs. <<if $visit is 2>> <<include "1.04R">> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q1")>>“How do you know who I am?”<<else>>[[“How do you know who I am?”|R1.03Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q5")>>“Are you still planning to kill me?”<<else>>[[“Are you still planning to kill me”|R1.03Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
"Are you still planning on killing me?" He laughs boorishly, "you ask such a thing so casually." "You speak about it with just as much casualness." "To speak honestly, I haven't decided. Right now, your life seems to hold some kind of weight even if your corpse would suit my needs far better. I guess we shall see what fate has in store." That answer does nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside of you. The difference between him and your captives is that you knew they wouldn't dare kill you. The reasoning, unknown. But after multiple torments, it was apparent. This man, on the other hand, seems capable of going down either path. <<if $nosa is false>>Will he prove himself to be more like them? Will he too strip away your dignity and do only what he wishes? The thought makes you want to vomit, but you calm that continuous storm.<<if $leery >=50>>You won't put it past him. You won't put it past anyone anymore.<<else>>You hope he is different, for both of your sakes.<</if>><</if>> <<if $visit is 2>> <a data-passage="1.04R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q1")>>“How do you know who I am?”<<else>>[[“How do you know who I am?”|R1.03Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>“How did you know where I was?”<<else>>[[“How did you know where I was?”|R1.03Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q3")>>“Did you kill a servant?”<<else>>[[“Did you kill a servant?”|R1.03Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q4")>>“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”<<else>>[[“What happens to your clothes when you shift?”|R1.03Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>
<<if hasVisited ("R1.03Q2")>>\ "So, my father sent you. But that doesn't explain why they would care." <<else>>\ "Who sent you?" "Your parents. Or perhaps your house. I don't know. I just know all the houses received a letter declaring the search for you was on. Some of us were closer than others. I ended up being faster than all of them." "My parents sent you? Why would they care?" <</if>>\ "You know," he chuckles, "I was pondering the same. Fifteen or so years have gone by of their silence, and they suddenly wish for a massive search to seek you out. Suspicious, is it not?" "Why did you come? You said all the houses received this letter, and from how you treat me, I can tell that it wasn't out of the goodness of your heart." "You would be right, ?princess. I'm here strictly for the reward hovering over your head." "And what reward is that?" <a data-passage="1.04.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Your hand in marriage." You recoil, "what?" "Calm yourself. When it comes to marriage between houses, it's simply to gain political power. I care not for you but the power that comes with an alliance." "How nice," you say, trying to keep the anger from your voice, "I am to be sold to the man with the most greed." He turns to you, <<if $height is "very tall" or $height is "tall">>gazing right into your eyes<<else>>gazing down at you with a smirk<</if>>, "you know what the funniest thing is? All but one house has decided to join in on the search for the same reason as me. That's dozens of houses who think and crave the same power as I. And consider yourself lucky. If Basilisk was here, there would be no contemplation. You'd be dead." You're about to ask another question when Ruben shushes you. "No more questions. I am growing annoyed by your voice. I think I deserve a medal for putting up with it for as long as I have." [[“You have to be the rudest person I've ever met.”|R1.04RudestPerson][$vigor +=3; $ruben -=3; $smart -=3]] [[“I think I deserve one as well.”|R1.04DeserveOneToo][$vigor +=5; $ruben -=5; $smart +=5]] [[“I'm sorry.”|R1.04Sorry][$vigor -=3; $ruben +=5; $smart -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++ Careful ++</span><</if>> "You have to be the rudest person I've ever met, and I was being held against my will by vengeful guards." <<if $nosa>>\ "Wait until you meet my team then. I'm actually known as the nice one. You'll be lucky if Deshir doesn't immediately bind and gag you." He pauses and smirks at his own words, gazing at your lips. <<else>>\ "Wait until you meet my team then. I'm actually known as the nice one." He looks to want to say more but after glancing over at you he thinks twice. If only he can do that more often. <</if>>\ <<include "1.05R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++ Derisive ++</span><</if>> "I think I deserve one as well. Putting up with you feels more like a chore than anything else." "You and my d'uun will get along fabulously then. She's known to screech the same." <<include "1.05R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++ Careful ++</span><</if>> "I'm sorry," you murmur, wondering if the words are an automatic response due to your time in the tower or if you truly are. You remember backing down from the belligerent guards all the time. Always hoping to appease them so that they wouldn't later take it out on you. One would think that after such an action failed so many times, you would abandon it. Ruben glances at you with a raised brow, not answering but also choosing to remain quiet. <<include "1.05R">>
He continues to lead you through the snow, regularly stopping and checking the skies and the area around you before continuing on. You attempt to imagine the guards coming after you and where they will search. You realize that you have little to worry about defense-wise, recalling the mess Ruben made in the halls of the tower. If everything grows too difficult for him, then all he has to do is transform and fight the rest of them off. The only problem that you can see sprouting from all of this is that you will be outnumbered. The two of you come across an area littered with various shaped rocks. Some simple loose stones, while others rival the size of $r_nn's dragon form. Speaking of $r_nn, he seems to be looking for someone, catching your attention when he lets out a shrill whistle. The lingering winds of the previous blizzards are all that answer, much to his chagrin. He does it once more. [[“Stop that! Others may hear.”|R1.05Stealth][$stealth +=2; $timid +=3]] [[“Why do you keep doing that?”|R1.05Charisma][$charisma +=2]] [[Leave him to his whistling.|R1.05Force][$force +=2; $timid -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> "Stop that! If you keep at it, then others may hear." "If you keep at it, then others may hear," he mimics, tossing you yet another of his bitter glances, "that's the entire point. Try to keep up." "You want to be found?" "On second thought, don't keep up. Just shut up." You bristle just as he lets out another shrill whistle. The only difference between then and now is that something answers back. Appearing much like a miniature snake, a jade-colored creature flies out from behind a rock, darting through the sky and over to Ruben's welcoming arm. It brings its wings in close as it wraps itself around his arm, bringing back its head to gaze at him. <a data-passage="1.05.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Why do you keep doing that?" "The same reason why you keep opening your mouth to question me." "Ah, so to get on my nerves?" He tosses you a smirk, "my apologies. My actions actually serve our cause some purpose." You bristle just as he lets out another shrill whistle. The only difference between then and now is that something answers back. Appearing much like a miniature snake, a jade-colored creature flies out from behind a rock, darting through the sky and over to Ruben's welcoming arm. It brings its wings in close as it wraps itself around his arm, bringing back its head to gaze at him. <a data-passage="1.05.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> You decide to leave him to his pointless whistling, finding much more interest in venturing the area. As you go, you question how far the tower is. You can see no trace of the magnificently tall building in any direction, but that can be the fault of the mountains, for they easily overshadow it. It feels as if it is lying just past this mountain ahead of you, welcoming you back and chiding you on your poor sense of direction. The thought is unsettling. Approaching one of the more enormous boulders, you have half a mind to climb it. To prove not only to yourself but to your mind that this is behind you. And that, like a book, you can adequately turn the page without fear of rereading the same text. Before the mind is made, the boulder makes an inquisitive purring sound. "Um, did this boulder just purr at me?" you question aloud though you're not sure if $r_nn is close enough to hear you. A second later and something that appears like a miniature snake slithers into view. "Draxmil?" Responding to what you suppose is its name, the jade-colored creature takes flight, darting through the sky and over to Ruben's welcoming arm. It brings its wings in close as it wraps itself around his arm, bringing back its head to gaze at him. <a data-passage="1.05.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Finally. How many times must I call for you?" As low as it is, you hear it respond with a chirp-like purr. "Yea, whatever. Where are the others?" Before it can answer, it turns its head towards you, staring at you with a pair of intelligent yellow eyes. It cocks its head to the side, and for a minute, <<if $timid >=50>>you wish to stay put and admire it.<<else>>you almost wish to pet it.<</if>> But just as quickly as that thought forms, it proves unwise. The creature lunges forward and lets out an ear-piercing scree, one that has you staggering backward. In a flash, you are transported back to the tower, your back slamming against the cold, uninviting wall as the guards that surround you chuckle. Pride enters their eyes and demeanor as they brag about scaring you and how easy it is to do. Your breath hitches and it is only when you fall into the snow does your actual surroundings come back to you. <<if $dungeon>>A shot of pain radiating through your back.<</if>> "Stop that," Ruben sighs, chiding the <<if $nature >=10>>amphiptere<<else>>creature<</if>> and gazing over at you with a raised brow. A question that he chooses not to speak aloud dot his eyes before putting his attention back on the creature, "now answer, where're the others?" Finally, snapping its attention back to Ruben, Draxmil answers in a mix of whorls and chirps. [[“You can understand it?”|R1.05Understand][$draxmil +=2]] [[“Rude, just like it's owner.”|R1.05RudeOwner][$smart +=5; $draxmil -=2]] [[Focus on yourself.|R1.05Yourself][$smart -=5]] <<if $nature >=10>>\ [[“That's an amphiptere.”|R1.05Amp][$draxmil +=2]] <<else>>\ [[“What is that?”|R1.05What][$draxmil -=2]] <</if>>\
Getting to your feet, you question, "you can understand it?" "No one can understand an amphiptere," he mumbles, "their dialect is even hard for true dragons to wrap their minds around. It's like baby speech at best." "So, at best, you're trying?" "To ignore you? Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing." <<include "1.05.2R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Derisive ++</span><</if>> "Rude, I see," you grumble as you rise to your feet, "just like its owner." "I'm not his owner," Ruben corrects, "and you can't own an animal. One would think a Phaizarn would know that." "Well, according to you, I'm not one." "Oh, you're a Phaizarn," he chuckles, "just a terrible one. Honestly, it might be better if you were one of those runts that couldn't shift. Make all this much easier." <<include "1.05.2R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Careful ++</span><</if>> You get to your feet, pushing the snow from your clothing and ignoring the heavy gaze that you feel on your person. Your frown does not shift and as you pull yourself together, you once again find yourself hoping that this will all end soon. <<include "1.05.2R">>
"That's an amphiptere," you point out, after you have gotten back on your feet. "You must feel proud of yourself?" he scowls, "must want a reward?" "Do you ever stop being rude?" He throws his head back, "do you ever stop talking?" <<include "1.05.2R">>
"What is that? A flying snake?" You question as you rise, flinching just as the creature prepares to lunge forward again, stopped only by Ruben grabbing onto it. "First off, never call an amphiptere a flying snake. Unless you want to find yourself in a magic coma. It's a cousin to the dragons, just smaller and not as cute." He winks, and you roll your eyes at the action. <<include "1.05.2R">>
He turns his back to you and walks a few steps away before extending his arm, allowing the amphiptere to uncoil and take to the sky. "Lead the way, Draxmil. We follow it to reach my people. Let's go." <<if $dungeon>>\ Taking a step, your chest blossoms with newfound pain, enough to catch you off guard and bring you to your knees. It's quick, over in a few seconds. But the amount of pain one barrage throws at you is enough to make you feel as if it has been going on for hours. You squirm, as if the more you thrash, the faster it will abandon you. Can this possibly be the wounds from yesterday's dungeon visit? It was done by Laurens, and most encounters with him leaves you feeling broken.<<if $nosa is false>> You close your eyes as your brain continues on with the statement, //in more than one way.//<</if>> But scars and bemoaning muscles shouldn't lead to this, right? As if to answer, the pain dissipates in your chest, leaving you lying on the snow, encapsulated by its iciness but feeling yourself sweating with your body temperature rising. This is something else, there is no doubt about that. <<else>>\ Taking a step, your chest blossoms with newfound pain, enough to catch you off guard and bring you to your knees. It is quick, over in a few seconds. But the amount of pain one barrage throws at you is enough to make you feel as if it has been going on for hours. You squirm, as if the more you thrash, the faster it will abandon you. Grunting as it dissipates in your chest, leaving you lying on the snow, encapsulated by its iciness but feeling yourself sweating with your body temperature rising. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.06R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
A few breaths, and you rise, finding Ruben ahead and staring at you with a bored expression. Why did this surprise you? This was the same man who has contemplated the risks and consequences he'd face killing you. How different is he to those he has claimed to save you from? Is he not just another captor with his own goals and plans. His own ... arrangements ... Your heart hisses, hoping your thoughts will be proclaimed false in time. <<if $dungeon>>\ Catching up to him proves to be quite the feat, especially with a still <<if $backheal>>sore back<<else>>unhealed back<</if>>. When you do, he tosses you a look that causes you to want to linger behind yet again. <<else>>\ Catching up to him proves to be quite the feat, and when you do, he tosses you a look that causes you to want to linger behind yet again. <</if>>\ "I've answered your fifty questions," he points out, "so how about you answer one for me. Can you shift?" You freeze in your spot, weighing the options of lying or being genuine. "Why?" He raises a brow, "just answer the question." "Tell me why." "I really, really don't have time for this," he tells you, taking a sinister step forward. You move to reinstate the space that once existed, but he grabs your wrist and yanks you closer, <<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>causing you to stumble into him. He steadies you before the two of you manage to meet in a head to head collision.<<else>>causing you to stumble into him. He catches you just before meeting his chest, not loosening his grip as he sneers down at you.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.06.0R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $nosa>>\ <<if $notouchy>>\ "Don't touch me!" you shout, fighting his grip with desperate actions, your heart racing as you attempt to silence the fear that poisons your veins. He releases you and your steps take you away from him. Once you have reestablished space, you frown, <<if $vigor >=50>>"don't ever touch me."<<else>>"please ... please don't ever touch me."<</if>> "I ..." he whispers, clearing his throat and glancing away, "answer the question." <<else>>\ "Shift." A fire lights up his eyes as if some part of him wishes that you won't so that he could take care of everything he's been yammering about. <</if>>\ [[Make up an excuse.|R1.06Excuse][$vigor -=3; $ruben +=5; $timid +=3]] [[Refuse to do so.|R1.06Refuse][$vigor +=5; $ruben -=5]] [[Do as he says. Shift.|R1.06Shift][$shift = true; $vigor -=5]] <<else>>\ At that moment, Ruben no longer stands before you but Laurens. His dark grin gives way to wicked intentions as he leans forward to whisper the despicable acts he will soon commit. You feel your mind shutting it out, daydreaming of something farther away, something warm that cocoons you. When you come back, you're on the ground, clutching the snow as if it is to be your lifeline. When you look to find Ruben, you see him a few feet back, gazing at you in confusion. "I ..." <<if $notouchy>>\ "Don't touch me!" you say through gritted teeth, <<if $vigor >=50>>"don't ever touch me."<<else>>"please ... please don't ever touch me."<</if>> "I ..." he states again, clearing his throat and glancing away, "we should continue on." It takes you a few more minutes to get your bearings and when you do, you trail behind him. <<else>>\ "I ..." he states again, clearing his throat and glancing away, "we should continue on." It takes you a few more minutes to get your bearings. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>You pound your fist into the snow, picking some of it and tossing it out of sight as you tell yourself to calm down.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>You clench a handful of snow in your hands, not knowing why but hoping it will calm you. //Don't cry//, you tell yourself and continue to do so until you feel somewhat better.<<else>>You shovel a handful of snow and place it against your face, letting it center you to make it easier to focus on something different.<</if>> Once done, you rise and with a few deep breaths, trail behind him. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++ | Timid ++</span><</if>> <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You refused to shift for Ruben.<</notify>><</if>> "I already told you why I can't," you tell him, remembering your earlier excuse about the weather. It's a weak one, but it's the only thing you can think of — that and merely stating that you don't have enough energy to do so. "You're still using //that// excuse?" he questions. With a growl, he releases you and takes a step back. "Regardless of whether you wish to believe it," you say as you rub your wrist, "it is the truth." "I think," he hisses as he leans in, "you can't shift. But the truth will reveal itself." He straightens and turns his back to you, continuing on. You do not doubt his words. The truth will reveal itself. It is only a question of when. <<include "1.08R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++</span><</if>> <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You refused to shift for Ruben.<</notify>><</if>> "No!" you shout, winding up to hit him. You expect that he'll either let you go and back up, or he'll release you to catch whatever blow you are aiming to throw his way. He ends up doing the latter, dodging the punch or slap — you aren't really sure which you were going to go with. "You do not order me, and I will not shift simply because you command it. Learn some manners first." He leers down at you but says nothing else, straightening up and putting space between you. Despite him backing down, you doubt it is due to your words moving him. "Keep your secrets, for now. But the truth will reveal itself." He straightens and turns his back to you, continuing on. You do not doubt his words. The truth will reveal itself. It is only a question of when. <<include "1.08R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You shifted for Ruben. He will not forget this.<</notify>><</if>> Fearing his reaction, you do as he asks. The act of transforming does not hurt. It never does. No, it is the embarrassment of doing so and knowing what will happen. You're unable to recall the last time you do so, Laurens will order it but hardly cares when you're unsuccessful. This time you do. You're aware of your darkened plumage that, for any other, is a varicolored treat for the eyes. <<if $region is "Reno">>Lovely calm blues and greens that transition into vivid golds that reminds one of the setting sun reflecting along the water's surface.<<elseif $region is "Adero">>The stark red's and orange's, an autumnal representation being told through multiple feathers.<<else>>Purples and pinks that establish a mystical sense, soon met by a subtle black that only grows bold at the tip of the wings.<</if>> You're shorter than you were before and before you can even get a good look at Ruben's face, the pain of your wings turning to ash sidles up your being. The snow now coated in the stark obsidian debris. The act of shifting for Phaizarn is a feat that brings pride. It is your species birthright. But you hate it, you fear it, and you will never shine like you once did. For others, it is a badge that they wear proudly, for you it is a mark that much like the scar on your $scar, never vanishing. You transform back immediately, wrapping your arms around yourself as you finally meet his eyes. He gazes at you in a mix of bewilderment. He turns without uttering another word. The simple fact that no kind of consequence takes place is enough for you and that weight lifts from your suspecting heart. <a data-passage="1.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
For several minutes, you continue on with neither of you speaking to the other. Between your footsteps crunching against the snow, Draxmil's chirps, and the whistling air, that is all the noise that you experience. And you are quite fine with that. Ruben's presence is only appreciated when his mind is off of you and his mouth closed. You pause as the hair on the back of your neck stands, and your gut screams for an action to be made — flight or fight. It is a typical body response from your time in the tower and the numerous times you've interacted with Laurens and the other guards. The fact that you were feeling it now didn't bode well with you. You were not alone. Ruben has become alert, stilling his footsteps as he observes every direction with considerable scrutiny. <a data-passage="1.08.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"$name." You whip around to see a recognizable figure a few meters back in the direction you have just come from. Flanking Laurens are ten other guards whose uniforms are unfamiliar, deep purple with black accents. The color you recognize, but not the design. At his side stands a man much taller who commands the attention of all. Raznith. "Let this be your first and last warning." His grey eyes hold no emotion, reminding you of one whose light was snuffed out some time ago, leaving them an inert husk whose only purpose is to fulfill a goal. "Surrender and return." "I'm guessing the surrender part is for me, hmm," Ruben smirks, stepping to your side. "Return ?her and you -," Raznith silences himself, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Ruben's appearance. "Who are you?" [[“Don't answer him, Ruben.”|R1.08.1Answer][$vigor +=3]] [[Remain quiet.|R1.08.1Quiet][$vigor -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++</span><</if>> "Don't answer him," you hiss at Ruben, who doesn't even spare you a glance. You know he will pay your warnings no heed, but you greatly needed him to. Your gut has been a most reliable companion in times such as these. Never has it steered you wrong, regardless of the torture and punishment that follows. Right now, it begs for you to go, that this is not a fight you will win and that the look in Raznith's eye, it is not to be pushed or cornered. You have just gotten done remarking how those dead eyes hold no sign of life. Yet when he takes in Ruben, they light up. <<include "1.08.2R">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> You know Ruben will not heed your warnings, so why waste breath on uttering them. You take a step back, attempting to figure out your exits. Though the entire landscape is a potential escape, it all feels limited. No matter where you run, Raznith will find you. He will then return you to the tower, and from there, you know not which route destiny will guide you down. Everything can go back to normal. Or it can all become far worse. <<include "1.08.2R">>
"Chieftain Ruben Draco of House Dragon," he answers proudly, chin raised, "let this be your first and last warning as well. Leave or face the consequences." "You seem not to understand the idea of being outmatched," Raznith points out, following his words up with a gesture to those who stand obediently by his side. "Looks like a warm-up," Ruben snorts. Raznith leers as he nods his head, "I'm glad you think so." "You can't fight them alone," you hiss at the dragon who looks to be preparing for just that. "Watch me." "Ruben, you do not know them like I do. No one questions your bravery," your mind spits out the word stupidity and you continue, "but to stay here is foolish. Please, let us try and run." He ignores you. Intentions now known, he starts to shift into his dragon form, but that is where it ends. A start without an appropriate end. Ruben growls as if shocked and the parts that have shifted revert back into his humanoid form. <a data-passage="1.08.3R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Magic?" he questions, throwing a questioning glance at those that remain only a few yards away. "It would be unwise not to carry such pendants. Especially after your melodramatic actions yesterday." Raznith points at you, "return ?her now." Laurens takes a step forward to receive you. You wish to scream 'I told you' but you bite down on your lip. "You behave as if I can't kick your ass either way," Ruben informs, stepping in front of you, "if you want ?her then you better deal with me first." He brandishes two short swords from the sheath on his back, allowing you to get a good look at the two beautifully crafted weapons. They are both a mix of black and silver save for a single crimson etching resting along the base of the blade. The hilt is of some unknown symbol, reminding you of twisting vines as well as a wicked creature who is best left to sleep. Raznith remains unphased, "what is the Chieftain of the great House Dragon doing protecting a phoenix?" He growls, "take one more step forward and find out." Each of Raznith's guard stiffen, their hands hovering over their individual weapons. Between the pure malice being exchanged between Raznith and Ruben, and then the forces that outnumber them, you fail to know how to act. [[Stand your ground.|R1.08.3StandGround][$force +=1; $vigor +=3; $ruben +=5]] [[Run.|R1.08.3Run][$stealth +=1; $ruben -=5]] [[Persuade him to go.|R1.08.3Persuade][$runruben = true; $charisma +=1; $vigor -=3]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ruben thinks you're foolish.<</notify>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++</span><</if>> Taking a deep breath in, you stand as tall as you can. Ruben spares you but one glance, and it is filled with as much detestation as he can muster. "Once more, because I simply do not wish to end this beautiful day with a lurid scene. Surrender and $name, come." Ruben charges forward. Raznith's guards charge forward. And the scene folds into chaos. <<include "1.08.4R">>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ruben believes you possess some sense.<</notify>><</if>> You have no weapons, no skills, and if you are to be honest with yourself, your sense of self-preservation are sometimes lacking. With that in mind, you have no business being anywhere that feels like it will escalate into a fight. Taking a step back, you again look around for a place to hide. Upon not finding one, you tell yourself that it will be wiser to simply run. If Ruben gets away, then he will undoubtedly find you, and if he does not, then Raznith will. You prepare to run. Ruben charges forward. Raznith's guards charge forward. And the scene folds into chaos. <<include "1.08.4R">>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ruben doesn't appreciate your actions. He will not forget this.<</notify>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> "Ruben," you sigh, <<if $notouchy>>grabbing his arm, unsurprised when he immediately recoils from you<<else>>grabbing his attention, unsurprised when he immediately groans at your voice<</if>>, "this is unwise." "Why are you still here?" he questions, pushing you away from his side, "go take cover and let the grown-ups talk." "You stupid man!" you shout, for a minute forgetting that you have an inimical audience standing before you. Entertaining you no more, Ruben charges forward. Raznith's guards charge forward. And the scene folds into chaos. <<include "1.08.4R">>
You blame it on the fact that you haven't been paying much attention or even that your thumping heart is right in your ears and fails to allow you to hear those behind you. But as soon as Ruben rushes in, they rush past you as well, as if conjured by the smell of a foreshadowed bloodbath. There's a handful of them, not enough to match Raznith's force but enough to cause them to stop and reevaluate the situation. Bodies collide, and war cries are screamed against the air. Among the chaos and fleeting forces, you search for Laurens, your fear escalating when you fail to spot his form. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand but when you turn, no one is there. But then where is he? Is he searching for you? You finally spot him standing near a stoic Raznith. The Watcher gives out the call for his troops to withdraw before doing so himself, and Laurens' eyes meet yours, a grin appearing. Raznith mirrors him, only his eyes are trained on Ruben. It's fleeting, so fast that you almost manage to miss it, and part of you profoundly regrets seeing it. Before Raznith quits the field, he grins as well. <a data-passage="1.09R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"About time." You turn, taking in Ruben's group. You can imagine the sort of force that they bring with them, each with the ability to transform into a dragon and rain destruction down on doomed souls. "You pick a fight wherever you go. Don't blame us for not being able to back you up every time," a man says as he leans against the intimidating war axe in his grasp. "Be grateful I suddenly felt that our brazen leader needed saving." A large smirk rests on his rosewood-colored lips as his dark eyes travel over to you and his eyebrow raises in interest. "This ?her?" "Unfortunately so," he scowls as he spares you a simple glance before heading further into the throng that is his group. All the while barking orders and questioning a few of them about what he missed. "You'll get used to it," the man from earlier explains as he approaches. Though his smirk is tamed, it has not yet disappeared. You begin to question if such a thing is possible, "in fact, I'd even say that if he's not shouting, then he's having a bad day. I'm Tozraz, though everyone just calls me Toz." "Would you rather me call you by your full name?" He looks taken aback before he smoothly recovers, "no, that's quite alright. But thank you for asking. A simple but most appreciated question." "I'm $name." With an over-exaggerated curtsy, he takes your hand and rests an airy kiss upon it. [[Bring your hand back.|R1.09HandBack]] [[Chuckle.|R1.09Chuckle]] <<if $nosa is false>>[[Stare at your hand.|R1.09StareAtHand]]<</if>> <<if $notouchy is false>>[[“Is that custom?”|R1.09Custom]]<</if>>
<<if $notouchy>>\ You snatch you hand out of his grasp, giving him a nervous glance that asks that he not do that again. With a good-natured smile and apologetic chuckle, he nods in understanding, "my apologies. I should've asked to do such a thing first. Truly, I'm sorry." <<else>>\ You slip your hand out of his, giving him a nod as well as a look that asks that he not do that again. With a good-natured smile, he nods in understanding. "My apologies. I should've asked to do such a thing first. Truly, I'm sorry." <</if>>\ <<include "1.09.1R">>
<<if $notouchy>>You slip your hand out of his grasp but are unable to stifle the giggly air bubbling inside.<<else>>Unable to stifle the giggly air bubbling inside.<</if>> You snort, which is followed by an awkward chuckle that captures his attention and forces your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment. That was less of a laugh and more of a rumbling chortle. "That was adorable," he grins, "I look forward to hearing it some more. Especially if I'm the cause." Your eyes widen, unable to wrap your mind around how smooth and amicable this young man is. Perhaps that is due to being surrounded by nothing but Ruben's glares and insults, but Tozraz feels like a true breath of fresh air. <<include "1.09.1R">>
When he releases your hand, you pause a minute to glance at it. As soon as he grabbed you, you went on the defensive, your body preparing for what it fears most. But soon after, that stiffness has begun to wane until it mellows out completely. None of the guards have ever kissed your hand, that much is true, but you feel as if you should still be bothered. But ... it was nice. <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>Or at least it didn't leave you feeling disgusting and your mind in a rage.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>Or at least it didn't leave you feeling defeated and feeling trapped within yourself.<<else>>Or whatever you believe counts as being nice.<</if>> "Is everything okay? Was that alright?" "It was," you whisper, still trying to understand how you feel. "Regardless," he starts, "I shouldn't have done that without your permission. My apologies." <<include "1.09.1R">>
"Is that custom?" "Is what?" he cocks his head to the side, "oh, you mean the whole kiss upon the hand." "Not for us dragons, no. But your house might have different rules, and offending the nobility is always pretty far down on my list of things to do." "You don't need to worry. I don't think of myself as one." He hums with an air of mystery to it while a teasing expression rests against his features. "Then we can have fun." <<include "1.09.1R">>
"Toz!" Ruben barks, "you keep talking with ?her, and I'll make you in charge of watching ?her." You roll your eyes<<if $leery >=50>>.<<else>> and give Toz an apologetic glance due to being the cause of him being yelled at, but he doesn't seem to mind. A trait that you find yourself growing jealous of.<</if>> <<if $dungeon and $backheal is false>>\ "I can think of worse things," he states loud enough for Ruben to hear, shrugging as he fastens his war axe to its sheathe. You watch as his eyes pause on your back and transforms into horror. "You're injured. Badly." You shy away, not wishing for any of the others to stop and turn or for a grand show of the meek and abused phoenix. "Ruben says you have a healer." "Let's hope she's near when we arrive, come on." You choose to stick close, happy to at least have a moment of reprieve from Ruben's attention and disdain. <<else>>\ "I can think of worse things," he states loud enough for Ruben to hear, shrugging as he fastens his war axe to its sheathe and follows behind the others. You choose to stick close, happy to at least have a moment of reprieve from Ruben's attention and disdain. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.10R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With half the day gone, you finally make it to the outskirts of the village, finding a small makeshift camp already erected with even more people walking about. They greet their leader openly, many offering him nods while some slap his back and shoulder affectionately. In regards to you, they only glance. Taking your appearance in but showing neither signs of hostility or openness to your presence. "Has anyone noticed your presence?" Ruben questions Toz. The friendly young man shakes his head but then laughs, "well, that's not completely true. Deshir kind of scared the feathers off some kids earlier, so they're not all too happy with her. But the rest of us can walk freely without too much suspicion. Me and two others have decided to be the only ones to enter to not arouse trouble from those within." "Then we'll keep it to you three. I don't need anyone raising the alarm. Take those two back in and make sure we have everything we need for the road. I'll send some of the hunters to find dinner," he whimpers, "I'm actually starving. Where the hell is Deshir?" "The border. She keeps checking the perimeter. Where are we headed, back home?" <a data-passage="1.10.0R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $dungeon and $backheal is false>>\ Ruben shakes his head and jabs his thumb in your direction, "priority is getting ?her back to House Phoenix." Toz looks ready to disagree, but before he does, he bites his tongue. Offering Ruben a nod, he whistles and calls three others to his side. "Fik, go find Mauve. Tell her to go to $name ... the Phoenix's tent when she can." The one known as Fik nods and rushes off, Toz giving you a nod before the three of them head off. Ruben leaves your side as well, barking orders to those around, and you note the manner in which he does it. <<else>>\ Ruben shakes his head and jabs his thumb in your direction, "priority is getting ?her back to House Phoenix." Toz looks ready to disagree, but before he does, he bites his tongue. Offering Ruben a nod, he whistles and calls two others to his side, and the three of them head off. Ruben leaves your side as well, barking orders to those around, and you note the manner in which he does it. <</if>>\ You expected his orders to be yelled with an unquestionable air. That these people that call him Chieftain understand that either they respect him or they pay the price. But that is not the case. He's firm. This much is true, but he is also understanding, and as he goes, he checks up and laughs along with many. They respect him, but it isn't because of his ruthless and barbarous behavior but because they love him. You are the odd one here; that much is made considerably clear. You are not one of his people and you never will. [[Head to the fire.|R1.10Fire][$clan +=5; $charisma +=2]] [[Sit on the outskirts.|R1.10Outskirts][$clan -=5; $stealth +=2]]
<<if $nosa>>Despite your adequate coverings, your need to feel warmth is overpowering.<<else>>Despite your adequate coverings, your need to feel warmth is overpowering. That and you always find yourself far more comfortable when you have many layers to cover your form.<</if>> You fail to understand your relationship with heat. You understand that your inner flame, something all phoenixes hold, is weak and waning. Placing your hand over the fire, it does not harm you, but you hardly feel it either. As a child, you were constantly warm and similar to how Ruben focused his flame to warm himself, you once could do the same. You no longer can, and heat glides over your flesh instead of burrowing deep, embracing your bones with an intimate hum. The hushed voices of those close capture your attention, and you glance up to see a few whispering, throwing you curious looks. They are not shy about their conversations being made in front of the subject, but they are also not comfortable enough to ask whatever they wish to. <a data-passage="1.10.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You continue to linger on the outskirts of the camp, not far enough away to miss anything that might happen or be said but to stay out of people's way. You observe, something else you learned how to do while in the tower. There, you watch the interactions between guards and then between guards and servants. In hopes of meeting trouble far less, you adapted their mannerisms, behaving like the servants and minding your business in the same way they did. Of course, this failed, much to your consternation. Afterward, you observed only the guards, memorizing their routines and what gained their attention and what didn't. So you had to learn how to become invisible, or at least as invisible as the sole prisoner could. It worked, to a degree, but it was far better than the alternative. You do the same here, only you did not do so in secret or fear a reprimand. The guards of the tower lack something that these people are overflowing with, tradition. You can see it in their clothing and how they interact, behave, and go about their day. You do not know what a regular day is to them, but you can see how they adapt. If you didn't know better, and perhaps you don't, you would say this is standard for them. <a data-passage="1.10.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"?Princess," Ruben calls out, walking past you and motioning for you to follow him. <<if $vigor >=50>>Not keen on hearing what he has to say, but curious, you rise and follow.<<else>>You rise, curious as to what he needs or wants to tell you.<</if>> Once you are far enough away, he stops and turns to you. "You could've gone with him. Do I have to worry about this in the future?" At the time, you have only been focused on getting out the way of the churning storm. But now, you realize that he is right. You could have given up the idea of freedom and returned to Raznith's side. What awaited you, that is anyone's guess, but it is far more familiar than this. The tortures and horrors of the tower are regular. No matter how much you crave it, this life is the mystery and what holds the actual danger. So, did he? [[It was stupid to even consider. “No, simple as that.”|R1.10NoSimple]] [[Raznith would have to drag you back. “Don't worry about me.”|R1.10DontWorry]] [[It was a thought, but only that. “This is safer … better.”|R1.10SaferBetter]]
Shrugging, you shake your head at the thought. You can't put it in words but the thought of returning just seems idiotic, regardless of how unpredictable this all is. There are things you wish would change, starting with the man before you, but this … this and the road you are traveling is the right course. "No." "No?" "Just no. It's as simple as that. You don't have to worry about me ever considering going with Raznith." <<include "1.10.2R">>
"Don't worry about me. The last thing I would ever do is agree to go back with Raznith." And Laurens. The man would have to drag you back, thrashing and cursing. Though, he would probably prefer such a situation. The last place you wish to return to is the tower. A towering hell whose mere thought causes <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>your blood to boil<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>you to shiver<<else>>you to shift uncomfortably.<</if>> "You sure?" Ruben questions and you attempt to figure out if he was teasing you or legitimately curious. "Yes, I'm sure." He nods. <<include "1.10.2R">>
It's a thought, and one that makes sense for you to have. You can't be the first prisoner that has had these thoughts, right? Believing that the place where one is kept is more comfortable, only because it is familiar to them. You hope you aren't, otherwise you feel even more self-conscious about the way your mind now works. "I … it's safer here. I understand that things can go wrong, very wrong, but I'd rather this than being dragged back by Raznith and imprisoned." <<include "1.10.2R">>
"Raznith," Ruben repeats, tasting the name slowly and with narrowed eyes. He cocks his head to the side in what seems to be thought but says nothing more, shaking his head. [[“Thank you, for protecting me from him.”|R1.10Protection]] [[“Why did you help me?”|R1.10WhyHelp]]
"Also, thank you, for protecting me from him." He sighs, "save your breath. Taking you from the tower makes you my responsibility for now. I just hope you're worth all this trouble." <<include "1.10.3R">>
"Question for you then. Why did you help me?" "Excuse me?" "Just as easily as I could have gone with him, you could have sent me with him. I'm sure that clever little brain of yours could have either spun some kind of tale about it later or even asked Raznith for thoughts. So, why didn't you?" "Do I look like I need someone else's help with taking care of problems?" "Isn't that why I'm here?" "You're here //only// because you have value. You're right, handing you over to Raznith would've been simple as I just want your status. Lucky for you, you being alive and present is easier to get that.<<if $dungeon>>Not to mention I found you bruised and chained in a dungeon. Handing you over was the last thing on my mind.<</if>>" <<include "1.10.3R">>
"But you need my cooperation," you point out, his smirk immediately telling you that your words are untrue. "I don't. Like I said before, marriage between houses has nothing to do with feelings and all to do with the allocation of power. Your parents promised your hand and as soon as I have that, I get what I want. Worry less, you won't have to worry about me ever wanting anything more out of this little alliance." [[“Then let's come to an … arrangement.”|R1.10Arrangement][$arrangement = true]] [[“Good to know.”|R1.10GoodToKnow]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>You and Ruben now have an agreement.<</notify>><</if>> Once upon a time, you were regal, or at least you believe you were. You had taken etiquette classes but never truly gotten too deep into them due to the incident. You hardly understand what your status will mean for him and how marriage will benefit. But if you know only one thing, you know compromise. You are either going to trust Ruben to get you home, or risk being recaptured by Raznith. The latter is unappealing and if Ruben's words hold truth, then an agreement has already been reached between you. It only needs to be cohered. "Then let us come to an … an arrangement." This piques Ruben's curiosity and he waits for you to continue on, "you wish for my hand. And I wish to get home safe. Fine. I believe both of those things can be accomplished with neither of us caring much for the other." "Get on with it," he yawns. <<if $vigor >=50>>You clench your jaw, but hopefully what you say next will solve ... you look him up and down, this.<</if>> "You either treat me with respect or leave me alone and I will stay out of your way and make this journey less arduous. You want my cooperation and I want some semblance of respect, though I understand how hard that may be for you." He nods, "fine. You give me what I want and we ignore each other. We play our parts." <<if $notouchy>>He nods his head, "deal?"<<else>>He stretches out his hand.<</if>> <<if $notouchy>>You nod as well, "deal. We play our parts."<<else>>You look at it and with a firm nod you grasp it, "we play our parts."<</if>> <a data-passage="1.11R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You glare at him, wondering how hard it is for one person to just say something nice, or to not say anything at all. You are growing used to this but his words never seem to soften. Each blow sees you stumbling and though you are able to pick yourself back up, it weakens you a little more each time. "That's good to know." Is all you find yourself able to say, your heart hurting to think that someone, someone who doesn't know you, thinks so little of you. <a data-passage="1.11R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With a content nod, you and Ruben return to the camp, and you find that the whispering has only increased. It seems a dragon's hearing is better than you suspected. "Hey, Phoenix," a woman with long black hair and pale skin approaches, motioning for you to follow her. You do so without question and, after leading you back towards the outskirts, points to a fur tent that resembles the others, "that's yours.<<if $dungeon and $backheal is false>> The healer is out foraging, she'll be back soon."<<else>>"<</if>> "Thank -," before the word is even out of your mouth, she's walking away. It's obvious that your tent is erected separately from the others on purpose. The others all frame the raging fireplace that they linger around, quietly sitting and existing in their own state of mind. <a data-passage="1.11.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Isolation. That is the feeling that spreads over you, prodding at your skin and trampling over your integrity. But it is an acquaintance, someone you know well. This is your heart hammering in your chest, yearning for something it cannot have. Your touch grasping for warmth that it will never seek. Before, isolation is an adolescent companion, hardly conscious of its own power but knowing it holds it. Now, among others, isolation has matured. It is no longer your friend or something that you count as another emotion. It is a state of mind and being. And you have never felt how heavy its hand could be until now. Staring at these people, that even quiet, had each other. Will you have that? Will you ever? You swallow the lump in your throat and wander into your tent, clutching the furs that rest there close to your chest. A tear or two falls, but you stop counting once the whimpers usher you into sleep. <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Curse"><img src="images/ruben_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Curse" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<set $visit to 0; $rubencomealong = false; $suntalk_1 to 0>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>> You lie there, paralyzed, while your consciousness feels as if it is in-between states. One side clings to the darkness of your dreams while the other claws its way towards reality and the awakened world. There's a distant pain, one whose origins you can't pinpoint but you assume derives from your chest. With each beat of your heart, a second shock wave is sent out, and you wither in place, forced to endure. Your mind strays farther as if falling down a void, wishing to grasp onto anything and catching nothing. Panic fills your lungs the deeper you plunge. You even believe your physical body to twitch and thrash but can't be sure. Nothing feels real. In the distance, you hear the poignant thudding of a drum, its echo reverberating and causing walls you can't touch to undulate. The sounds grow, your heart thumps, the pain intensifies. <<if $dungeon>>\ "Hey!" a woman shouts and you feel something cold fall off your back and onto the side just as the woman settles you back down. "The snow will help the fever. And, thankfully, the ointment did its job. Just take it easy for right now." "Ointment?" "Don't think me rude or weird for coming in while you slept. Just the ointment to heal you is better applied when one is unmoving and body heat is not as high. The scars are there but the pain should be gone. But, we must still focus on this fever." <<else>>\ "Hey!" a woman shouts, backing up just in time to avoid the collision you would have caused by jerking forward. A pile of snow falls into your lap just as the woman hushes you back down. "The snow will help the fever. Just take it easy for right now." <</if>>\ "What happened?" "Shh," she chuckles, shoveling up more snow and spreading it across your forehead and <<if $dungeon>>back<<else>>chest<</if>>, "when you're better, we'll talk. Just relax." Despite her sweet tone, the hesitation resting in her eyes causes you to feel less than reassured. A flutter of questions enters your mind, but the woman leaves before you dare mention even one. Attempting to do as she suggests, you stare up at the fur-lined tent. You refuse to close your eyes, but you do think back to the pain. The same pain that you had once never felt. You've been sick a few times, primarily superficial respiratory infections, and the one time you caught the Zarn Flu, but even that went away with time, and the pain wasn't an issue. But this is like nothing you've ever faced. <a data-passage="2.01R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I actually don't know." The woman from earlier pulls you out of your thoughts, her voice a distance away but still noticeably clear, "it's not a common sickness but a spiritual one." "What does that mean?" you hear Toz question next. "It can also be called a magic disease; sometimes it's better to say that, more understandable. But it basically means that common medicine and healers can't do anything. Which also means I can't find the problem or even attempt to describe it. Only a shaman." "We have one back in the territory," Toz remarks, but a scoff cuts him off. "If you think I'm going to make a detour that big, your acid must have eaten away what's left of that brain of yours." Though faint, you hear a slight thud and a chuckle following it. As well as what you think is a disgusted groan. "A temple may be all that is necessary. Invoking the spirits there for their help should work if the spirits are in a good mood." A new voice that you aren't familiar with but have heard adds in, "there is a temple close by." "Did none of you hear me speak about not wanting to take detours? Do you know if ?she'll die from this?" Ruben barks. "I do not." "Then the phoenixes can deal with this. It's not my problem." "You will soon call that specific phoenix your partner. Perhaps you should begin to see it as your problem," Toz advises in a tone that is none too friendly and does not allow for Ruben to provide a comment. "If we are discussing this," the familiar yet unidentifiable voice interjects, "then I say we go to this temple. Spiritual diseases can also be contagious, so we're potentially putting all of our healths at risk." Their words are followed by silence. "If there is no discourse, then, of course, Ruben, do as you see fit." [[Go out there. This is your life they speak about.|R2.01GoOut][$vigor +=10; $ruben -=10; $clan +=3]] [[Stay where you are. Let them decide what to do.|R2.01StayWhereYouAre][$vigor -=10; $ruben +=10; $clan -=2; $rubencomealong = true]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++</span><</if>> <<if $nosa>>\ You feel well enough to add your voice to a conversation surrounding the state of your life. You move the snow and sit up, letting the blood settle before continuing forth. Sweeping the tent's fold out of the way, you finally make your debut out into the world, shying away from the blinding sun. "I told you to relax," the healer reprimands, resting her hand on your arm and encouraging you to go back. You pull away, and your gaze instead settles on Ruben, Tozraz, and the woman that showed you to your tent the previous day, unable to recall her name if she even gave it. "I'm not about to let a bunch of strangers dictate my life. I've had to put up with that for fifteen years, no longer." Ruben snorts, a sound that you really didn't wish to hear at the time. Luckily, he says nothing, allowing you to continue. "I don't know if this pain will vanish, but I doubt it. I want to go to the temple." All eyes swivel over to Ruben, who regards you with a hollow and straightforward look. <<if $arrangement>>\ A few minutes later, he lets out a snort paired with a smirk before turning and walking off. He waves you off as he says over his shoulder, "Deshir and Toz will escort you to the temple. We leave when you three return." <<else>>\ You're unsure of what to do. Part of you believes that your only chance right now is to persuade him that this is the best course, while the other half refuses to show any kind of fragility. In the end, you decide to simply meet him head-on. Giving nothing away and mustering all of your courage to face him. He raises an unimpressed brow and rolls his eyes. He turns and begins to walk off, waving you off as he says over his shoulder, "Deshir and Toz will escort you to the temple. We leave when you three return." <</if>>\ Toz approaches you and nods, "how was your sleep?" [[“Good up until a few minutes ago.”|R2.01GoodUntilNow]] [[“Did I scream out while I slept?”|R2.01DidIScream]] [[“It was sleep.”|R2.02ItWasSleep]] <<else>>\ You feel well enough to add your voice to a conversation surrounding the state of your life. You move the snow and sit up, letting the blood settle. And with that action a realization also sets in, are you inviting trouble? Going out there can be the start of a shift in feelings and emotions towards you? If you anger them, what then? Your heart thumps just a bit faster at your line of questions. [[Rethink this. Stay here.|R2.01StayWhereYouAre][$vigor -=20; $ruben +=20; $clan -=5; $rubencomealong = true]] [[No, this is your life. Go.|R2.01GoOut2]] <</if>>\
With your mind made up, you sweep the tent's fold out of the way, and make your debut out into the world for that day. "I told you to relax," the healer reprimands, resting her hand on your arm and encouraging you to go back. You pull away, and your gaze instead settles on Ruben, Tozraz, and the woman that showed you to your tent the previous day, unable to recall her name if she even gave it. "I'm not about to let a bunch of strangers dictate my life. I've had to put up with that for fifteen years, no longer." Ruben snorts, a sound that you really didn't wish to hear at the time. Luckily, he says nothing, allowing you to continue. "I don't know if this pain will vanish, but I doubt it. I want to go to the temple." All eyes swivel over to Ruben, who regards you with a hollow and straightforward look. <<if $arrangement>>\ A few minutes later, he lets out a snort paired with a smirk before turning and walking off. He waves you off as he says over his shoulder, "Deshir and Toz will escort you to the temple. We leave when you three return." <<else>>\ You're unsure of what to do. Part of you believes that your only chance right now is to persuade him that this is the best course, while the other half refuses to show any kind of fragility. In the end, you decide to simply meet him head-on. Giving nothing away and mustering all of your courage to face him. He raises an unimpressed brow and rolls his eyes. He turns and begins to walk off, waving you off as he says over his shoulder, "Deshir and Toz will escort you to the temple. We leave when you three return." <</if>>\ Toz approaches you and nods, "how was your sleep?" [[“Good up until a few minutes ago.”|R2.01GoodUntilNow]] [[“Did I scream out while I slept?”|R2.01DidIScream]] [[“It was sleep.”|R2.02ItWasSleep]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> You aren't sure leaving the tent and placing yourself in such a hostile environment is wise, especially as you didn't yet know what this sickness entails. Another reason is Ruben himself. At the moment, there is a form of disconnect due to only hearing his voice and not seeing his face and posture. Severing that division means awakening a host of slumbering emotions, emotions that you would rather not feel at this precise moment. What will your presence change? If anything, it will make Ruben even more malicious, bringing your chances down to zero. "And where's the temple?" "Outskirts of the village. Not that far." "Fine. Deshir and I will escort Phoenix there. Toz, by the time we're back, camp needs to be pulled up and everyone ready to head out." "Ah, yes. Because I am a master of foretelling and know exactly what time this will be." You hear light chuckles and a grumble that you're pretty sure originates from Ruben. "Just make sure it's done," Ruben shouts as he walks away. You wait a few seconds more before deciding to leave the tent behind, successfully avoiding Ruben's gaze and the chiding of the healer. Toz approaches you and nods, "how was your sleep?" [[“Good up until a few minutes ago.”|R2.01GoodUntilNow]] [[“Did I scream out while I slept?”|R2.01DidIScream]] [[“It was sleep.”|R2.02ItWasSleep]]
"It was refreshing until a few minutes ago when it turned into more of a nightmare." "Yea, it sounded as much. Hopefully, you get some answers at the temple." <<if $notouchy is false>>He lightly touches your elbow and nods at the fire<<else>>He nods towards the fire<</if>>, "come. Get some breakfast in you." <<include "2.02.1R">>
"Seeing that you were all outside my tent when I awoke, did I scream or something? How did the healer know what was going on?" "Oh, you screamed alright." He chuckles at something unrelated to his words, or at least you think as much. "What?" "Nothing," he sighs, leaning on something that isn't there. Realizing his gaffe, he offers a goofy smile and then nods over to the fire, "forget it. Come on, you should eat breakfast." <<include "2.02.1R">>
"It was sleep. I can't possibly describe it as anything more." Toz snorts, "you don't have dreams?" "No." You expect him to question you further on the matter, but he simply stretches and gives you a lopsided grin. "You're missing out. Dreams can be filled with all sorts of fun things." You're not quite sure what he's alluding to, and he doesn't offer any further explanation as he nods at the fireplace. "Come on, let's get some food in you." <<include "2.02.1R">>
His words cause your stomach to growl as if it too has just remembered that it hasn't eaten for what seems like at least three days. This much is untrue, but between the adrenaline spikes, the constant walking, and the new disease that appears to be ravaging your body, you have an appetite. A light spring enters your step as you follow Toz to the firepit, where a few members linger with lazy attitudes. When they notice you, they turn and walk a distance away, shooting chary glances over as they talk amongst themselves. "Don't mind them," Toz says, taking a seat and reaching a short distance away for a bag. The smile he shoots you contradicts the glimpses of those surrounding you, and for that, you are grateful. "They're still trying to figure you out, is all." "Which is exactly why you should mind them," a new voice interjects, plopping down in the seat beside Toz. <a data-passage="2.02.2R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The dragon rolls his eyes as he points to the black-haired woman, "$name, this is Deshir. Deshir -" "Yes, yes," she groans, shoving him playfully, but the thump that the impact creates causes you to doubt the casualness of it. Her attention is placed on you as she explains herself, "you're about to be leading not only House Phoenix but also House Dragon. You make no attempt to understand us and our ways, then we won't forget it." She wrinkles her nose as she tilts her chin higher, "dragons have sharp memories and even sharper claws. You'd be wise to remember that." "Aren't you a polar bear?" Toz questions. This time he's prepared for her onslaught. Though he's unable to dodge all of her punches, he evades the majority with a laugh. "I'd say Deshir's all growl and no bite, but she really is a bully." She rolls her eyes, snatching the pack from him, and grabs what looks to be venison, "I fail to hear you say that I'm speaking dishonestly." She looks to you, "eat." [[“I don't eat meat.”|R2.02Vegan][$vegan = true]] [[“Is fish an option?”|R2.02Pesca][$pesca = true]] [[“I'll cook my own.”|R2.02Meat]]
You gaze at the venison she offers, "do you happen to have anything less meaty?" They both glance over at you with bewildered expressions. Toz beating Deshir to the question lingering on both their minds, "you are a phoenix, right?" "Yes, and it's not that I can't eat meat. I just rather fruits and vegetables. Phoenixes can eat those as well." "Sounds tragic," Deshir remarks with a sarcastic tone, setting her attention back on her own actions as Toz moves to retrieve another bag. He hands it to you, and inside you find dried fruit. You smirk, glancing over at him as you take your fill, "so why do you guys have this if you're all meat eaters?" He shrugs, tossing some meat onto a pan before passing it over to Deshir who adds her own and then hovers it over the fire, "because not all of us are dragons or carnivores. Don't get me wrong, a good percentage of us are, but we still have a few omnivores. So, if you ever get too tired of us meat lovers, you have someone to go complain to." [[Blush and say, “I could never get tired of you.”|R2.02Blush]] [[You laugh before stating, “definitely will be doing that.”|R2.02Laugh]]
Your eyes travel to his, taking in the depth that his dark brown orbs hold. It is quite easy to get lost in their warmth, and before long, you feel your cheeks warming and say, "I could never get tired of you." He lets out a hearty and good-natured laugh, "tell me if you still feel that way after getting to know me. I'm not doing my job right if you don't find me at least a wee bit annoying." You're not quite sure what spurs you to go on. You understand what flirting is but is in no way versed in the art of it. Feelings feel foreign, like a missed opportunity that is better forgotten, lest you wish for it to haunt you. It is not lost on you that your next statement, though spoken in a flirty manner, will be looked at unfavorably. Or maybe Toz doesn't wish to flirt back. You aren't sure what some signals mean and if flirting is something that should be explicitly agreed upon. "The good annoying," you answer back, still fighting the blush that lays claim to your cheeks. Is there even such thing as being annoying in a good way? The word itself seems to hold nothing more than a negative connotation. He continues to focus on the food when he shrugs his shoulder, "sure, I guess if you want to call it that." A simple response with no sign of him teasing you or flirting back. But maybe that is due to your own delivery and words, you haven't given much to reply to. This flirting business is tricky. Glancing away from him, you find Deshir examining you. Upon realization that you have caught her gaze, she bares her teeth and places her attention back on her actions. <a data-passage="2.03R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You laugh as you select one of the more unique fruits, "definitely will be doing that." It's a soft yellow tone with strange red markings, and unlike the others, its dried skin isn't as cracked. Toz places his hand to his heart and glances at Deshir, who makes it a point to ignore him, "you hear that. That's coming from one of our own." Deshir opens her mouth but then closes it a second later, her posture and facial expression both declaring that it is better for you that she remains silent. You are not the only one who picks up on this, Toz abandons his line of questioning with her and gazes back at you with a coy grin, "you'll have to find them first." "Shouldn't be too hard. Just pay attention to those who don't join you by the fire during dinner." "Everyone sits around the fire. Despite our diets, we all gather," Deshir informs you, causing both you and Toz to quiet yourselves. The conversation dying. <a data-passage="2.03R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Is fish one of the options, or is it just venison?" Deshir raises an eyebrow though she says nothing, digging around until she brings out something covered in leaves. Uncovering it, you are glad to find fish lying there, though needing to be cooked appropriately. You grab a pan, staring at it and then at the other two. <<include "2.02RCooking">>
"It's fine; I'll cook my own." Though you say such words with confidence, it's not until Deshir passes you the pan and venison that you realize that you didn't possess such a skill. The servants have always prepared your food, and even if you did happen to show interest, it is a known rule that you are not allowed in the kitchen, a restriction existing amidst many others. <<include "2.02RCooking">>
"I … uh, don't know how to cook." "What a revelation," Deshir remarks with a sarcastic tone, throwing Toz a look to which he responds with a chuckle. You move over as he comes to sit beside you, taking the pan from you. "You see, this object is what we call a pan." "I know what it is," you growl, a touch of offense laced in your voice as he considers you naive. It only begins to dissipate when you see him doing a lousy job of keeping his laugh in, soon abandoning the act altogether. "I know, I'm just playing. But seriously, it's quite easy. When we have a proper camp, you don't even need to hold it, but this was put up pretty quickly." <<if $notouchy>>\ He passes the pan to you, hovering nearby by making sure not to touch you. "Is it alright if I touch you? To show you how to hold and position it?" [[Give him permission to touch you.|R2.02CookTouch]] [[Tell him that you'd rather not.|R2.02CookNoTouch]] <<else>>\ He takes your hand in his, positioning it on the handle of the pan. "Now, be careful. It's easy to be burned if you hover too close." [[Flirtatiously say, “I can handle the heat.”|R2.02Flirt]] [[Irritably remind him, “I'm a phoenix.”|R2.02Irritable]] [[Nervously utter, “maybe you should show me first then.”|R2.02Nervous]] <</if>>\
You nod, allowing him to place his hands over yours to guide the pan over the fire. "Now, be careful. It's easy to be burned if you hover too close." Despite the directions he gives you, your mind continuously goes back to his hands on yours. It isn't a bad touch, a fact you understand but rarely seem to accept. You know that not everyone who touches you means harm, but your body has gotten so used to the abuse that it is wiser to presume so. To be asked first ... it gives you control. It gives you strength. You smile, shaking the thought from your mind and telling yourself to listen to what Toz is saying. <<include "2.03R">>
You shake your head and with an understanding nod, he continues to direct you without touching. If the pan wanders, he touches that instead, the flame doing no harm to him. He speaks clearly, making sure that you are understanding everything he is saying and always pausing to see if you have any questions. Patience. It is a trait you rarely saw nowadays, and you realize how much you miss it. <<include "2.03R">>
Your eyes travel to his, taking in the depth that his dark brown orbs hold. It is quite easy to get lost in their warmth, and thankfully you restrain yourself. "It's fine. I can handle the heat." "You say that until you get burned," he responds, still focusing on your positioning and moving the pan over the fire. You're not quite sure what spurs you to go on. You understand what flirting is but is in no way versed in the art of it. Feelings feel foreign, like a missed opportunity that is better forgotten, lest you wish for it to haunt you. It is not lost on you that your next statement, though spoken in a flirty manner, will be looked at unfavorably. Or maybe Toz doesn't wish to flirt back. You aren't sure what some signals mean and if flirting is something that should be explicitly agreed upon. Heart fluttering, you mumble the first thing to come to your mind, "would you burn me?" He raises an eyebrow, confusion and conflict warring on his face before it disappears, and his easygoing smile appears, "not unless you want me to." He says it in a teasing manner, and though you had hoped for a positive response, you're unsure if you have received one or not. This flirting business is tricky. Glancing away from him, you find Deshir examining you. Upon realization that you have caught her gaze, she bares her teeth and places her attention back on her actions. <<include "2.03R">>
It appears that Toz has forgotten that you are a phoenix, a creature who isn't affected by fire in any way. You're unsure whether Ruben has told him about what happened when he first came to you and your response to him ordering you to shift. "I'm a phoenix, Toz. It's impossible for me to be burned." The tone in which you say it is, at best, contentious. Your annoyance clear, and judging by the look that both Toz and Deshir send you, they have noted it as well. Deshir hums with a smirk, "I think we should remember that phoenixes have talons too." "It was more of just a," he trails off, his abashment keeping him from completing the thought. "Just, hold it over the fire." With that instruction given, he leaves you to cook the meat, turning his attention to Deshir and his own food. <<include "2.03R">>
Your cheeks heat up as you move away, scratching your head and gazing at the ground. "Maybe you should show me how to cook first then. I feel like I'll end up blowing something up." Toz's head falls back as he laughs, a laugh that causes Deshir to grimace and roll her eyes in annoyance. "Trust me," he begins, holding the pan over the blazing fire, "you won't. Worse case is you burn the food, undercook it, or drop the pan and have to retrieve it." Playfully, he nudges your shoulder, "but you're a phoenix, so you won't get burned, and undercooked meat won't kill you. Burnt meat ... well, at least you know it was cooked." <<include "2.03R">>
You eat in silence, content on listening to the random conversations of those nearby and watching as a few of them bring out weapons and begin to spar. A small handful, perhaps one or two, actually shift to stretch out their wings. They are majestic and beautiful to gaze upon. Not only their transformation from man to beast but also the pure magnificence of their second form. Strong muscles and shimmering scales that spring to life when the sun shines its rays upon them. Each the epitome of what dragons stand for: power, untamed nature, and exquisiteness. A frown makes its way to your face as you think about your own second form. Broken, unable to hold a flame, a dull color that lessens with each passing day. And then Laurens appears. Breathing becomes strangled, quick bursts that never seem to have enough air to keep you upright. Thankfully, your panic is unable to truly manifest as Deshir rises and sighs, calling for you. Once she has your attention, she motions for you to follow. <a data-passage="2.03.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $rubencomealong>>\ The two of you move away from the camp, and after a few seconds, you take notice that you are missing one. Ruben changing his mind and deciding to not come doesn't shock you, though you are curious about the reason. You're about to question Deshir when Ruben's presence causes the question to become irrelevant. "Toz giving you a hard time?" Deshir questions, slowing down so that she is now walking with Ruben, leaving you to be the odd one out as you linger behind. Ruben groans, waving her words away, "remind me to buy the lad a pint when we get home. I can never take his semi-serious side for anything more than worry." Deshir's following words are whispered under her breath, and from then on, the two engage in quieter conversation that is obviously not for your ears. You are unsurprised by this development and continue on. <<include "2.03.2R">> <<else>>\ Toz also stands, breaking away from the two of you to approach Ruben, who is speaking to a few other members. You watch as they whisper, Toz soon appearing exasperated while Ruben seems calm and utterly at peace, perhaps even proud of himself. "That seemed like a fun discussion," you state when he comes to your side, nodding back at the camp. "Talking to him is always a joy. They make every day so much brighter." He then sighs and scratches his head, murmuring something under his voice, "I feel that someone should apologize for his behavior." "That someone doesn't have to be you." "And yet," he chuckles, "I feel compelled to." [[“What did he say?”|2.03RWhat]] [[“Why are you nice to me?”|2.03RWhy]] [[“You do that alot?”|2.03RAlot]] <</if>>\
"What did he say to you?" "Oh, the usual," he nervously explains, "be back soon and no playing around, remember who you are, and a bunch of other stuff that's just annoying to be told repeatedly." His facial expression doesn't shift, and though you see no reason to not believe him. You can't help but doubt, and so you choose to do nothing but hum and nod. <<include "2.03.2RT">>
<<if $dungeon>>\ "Ah. Well, it's not that I don't understand their caution and distrust. I'm much the same. But it doesn't sit well with me to treat someone who has been a prisoner and abused for more than a decade coldly. You've been faced with enough consternation, I see no reason to add to it." "How do you know I've been abused?" You question, simply curious what gave that fact away. He motions to parts of exposed skin, "I am more than sure you have hidden ones that will never be seen, but your physical ones aren't as easy to hide. If you do wish to talk about it, know that I've been told I have quite the ear. Well, Ruben says it anyway. But he's a good listener as well." He tries to snicker but fails, clearing his throat. <<else>>\ "Ah. Well, it's not that I don't understand their caution and distrust. I'm much the same. But it doesn't sit well with me to treat someone who has been a prisoner for more than a decade coldly. You've been faced with enough consternation, I see no reason to add to it." He seems to perk up, "plus. I'm a smiling person. No reason to frown when you can smile." He offers you the smile he speaks of, and you find it quite hard to keep one off of your face as well. "You simply hang around those who don't smile?" "Who? Ruben? He smiles quite a lot." <</if>>\ <<include "2.03.2RT">>
"Compelled? Do you find yourself apologizing for his actions a lot?" He snickers, "actually, no. Ruben is actually far more behaved than this." The way in which he says it causes you to question the validity of his words, but you allow him to continue. "Believe it or not, he's typically getting me out of trouble." "No. I don't believe it." "It's true. People like to say I'm mischievous, though I like to call it creative. Either way, some of my actions lead to our great Chieftain having to step in and get me out of trouble. He's good at that." <<include "2.03.2RT">>
"So, it's just me that Ruben has a problem with." Toz's shoulders fall as he turns to face you, "it's a poor excuse, but he has his reasons." "That doesn't excuse him." Shrugging, he continues on, "I know. But no one really cares about formalities and manners when they believe they're justified." No other words are exchanged as you continue to follow the duo through the snow and to the temple resting far in the distance. <a data-passage="2.03.2R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Though you are skirting the outskirts of the town, you can hear the sound of them waking to a new day. A few times, you manage to catch a glimpse of a group of them walking, each wearing similar clothing and sniggering amongst themselves. The idea of soon finding yourself in a similar situation dawns on you. Do you remember what it is like to be part of a community? Even more to be someone that everyone looks up to, whose purpose is to lead and guide? Would they even choose to follow you? The locked away phoenix, who sometimes feels so broken that even with ?her_ cage door agape, ?she refuses to fly. These thoughts stay with you until you reach the temple, a decently-sized wooden building whose roof is busy collecting snow. A few trees rest around the area, some bearing snow and red fruit whose skin appears smooth. A few children dart around, throwing snow at one another and building up strange objects that wear faces and accessories. All of it gives an otherwise bleak scene some life, life that you would have never equated to snow and winter. <a data-passage="2.04R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Closer towards the building, a few people draped in long navy and gold robes stand near the entrance, their hands clasped together as if in prayer, but their demeanor say differently. "Are we allowed to enter?" Deshir questions one of the women, and she nods, performing a respectful bow. "The temple is open to all souls. Be they curious or lost." Her eyes glance over your group, halting on you, but you quicken your pace, hurrying inside. The interior is modest and, unlike the outside, lacks a friendly aura. The bland walls and solemn mood comes off as nothing but serious, a place to either pray or leave. A few benches are placed up against the wall, but most of the objects within are small mats. After observing those within, you find their purpose is to be kneeled upon. Those doing so all have their eyes closed, and their heads arched back. At the head of the room rest two giant statues, one who you know to be Sun and the other a woman who you've never seen before. She contrasts Sun's light with darkness, though not one of malicious intent, you note. It feels as if she is just softer, whereas Sun is more direct. Deshir hovers near the door while <<if $rubencomealong>>Ruben<<else>>Toz<</if>> ventures further, taking in his surroundings with a curious look in his eyes. [[Stay near Deshir.|R2.04Deshir]] <<if $rubencomealong>>\ [[Go with Ruben.|R2.04Ruben]] <<else>>\ [[Go with Toz.|R2.04Toz]] <</if>>\
You linger beside Deshir, knowing that you should continue further in but not wishing to. She seems to think the same, but her gaze is trained on the ajar door, staring at everything and yet nothing at all. "Are you religious?" you question after a few seconds of silence, curiosity driving you to ask. A slow gaze your way is all you receive before her purple eyes are set back on the world outside. You open your mouth to then ask why she doesn't seem to like you much, but <<if $rubencomealong>>Ruben<<else>>Toz<</if>> calls out to you first. <<if $rubencomealong>>"I don't have all day, ?princess. Get over here and get to praying."<<else>>"Hey, $name," Toz calls out a minute later, "shouldn't you be praying or whatever you're supposed to be doing?"<</if>> You head to an unoccupied mat and imitate the other inhabitants by closing your eyes. What are you supposed to do after this? Begin calling for Sun or asking for guidance? You shift uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say and not liking the idea of there being eyes on you. [[Utter a prayer.|R2.04Prayer][$charisma +=2]] [[Just exist in the now.|R2.04ExistNow][$stealth +=2]] [[Abandon this.|R2.04Abandon][$force +=2]]
You find that your feet carry you deeper into the temple, right alongside Ruben, who seems to do a remarkable job at ignoring your presence. He stares across the temple with indifference, an unimpressed gleam residing in his eye. "Are you religious?" you question, curious if his distaste is due to not wishing to be here or being unimpressed because he has seen better. "You tell me," he challenges, glancing out the corner of his eye at you. [[“I think you are.”|R2.04YouAre]] [[“I don't think you are.”|R2.04YouArent]]
"I think you are." "Reason?" You manage to shrug, your answer being more of a simple observation than an in-depth assessment of his character. You know only so much about your anger-prone rescuer, and most of it isn't positive. "I can't really say. But unless Draconis is an actual person, you invoke their name a lot. I don't have much to go off of. Most things point to you not being one. Which only makes me believe you are even more." He makes no remark or verbal cue to tell you if you are right or not. His eyes go back to the area straight ahead as if examining the rest of the space since you had disturbed him earlier. <<include "2.04.1R">>
"I don't think you are." "Reason?" You manage to shrug, your answer being more of a simple observation than an in-depth assessment of his character. You know only so much about your anger-prone rescuer, and most of it isn't positive. "You seem like the type to have everything figured out. And if not that, then you at least don't seem to rely on the guidance of higher beings." He makes no remark or verbal cue to tell you if you are right or not. His eyes go back to the area straight ahead as if examining the rest of the space since you had disturbed him earlier. <<include "2.04.1R">>
<<if hasVisited("R2.04YouAre")>>"I'll admit, your observation skills are superb at least,"<<else>>"You're wrong but it's not an observation that I'd disagree with you on either,"<</if>> he frowns but shakes whatever thought comes to his head, "yes, I am." You continue to carry the conversation forward, "Sun, I'm guessing?" "Actually, you'd be wrong," he pauses and frowns, "I do pray to Sun. But those that I do pray to are known as the Congregation of the Six Divines." "I've never heard of them." "You're not a dragon; I wouldn't expect you to. They were the first six dragons to grace Jiwenia and represent the parent colors and the elements." <a data-passage="2.04.2.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Which is Draconis?" "The crimson one and the dragon of fire." He snickers, a strange sound coming from him, "as a child, I did everything in my power to win his favor. If only in hopes of meeting him one day." "That's possible?" The glimmer leaves his eyes, and he frowns, realizing who he is talking to and from what you figure, reminding himself that you are not a friend. With a gruff and annoyed growl, he nods to one of the empty mats, "we don't have all day. Go over there and pray or whatever you need to do so we can leave this place." And just like that, Ruben returns, the glimpse he has given you not enough to satiate your curiosity. But, you do as he commands since conversation will no longer flow. You go to an unoccupied mat and imitate the other inhabitants by closing your eyes. What are you supposed to do after this? Begin calling for Sun or asking for guidance? You shift uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say and not liking the idea of there being eyes on you. [[Utter a prayer.|R2.04Prayer][$charisma +=2]] [[Just exist in the now.|R2.04ExistNow][$stealth +=2]] [[Abandon this.|R2.04Abandon][$force +=2]]
You catch up with Toz, walking beside him as he silently observes the happenings of the temple. "Are you religious?" you question after a few seconds of silence. "Kinda," he shrugs, "I don't usually think about the gods much, and I haven't had much reason to call upon them. When I do pray, it's to both Moon and Sun but mostly to the Congregation." "The Congregation?" "Dragons pray to different gods, the Congregation of the Six Divines. They were believed to be the first six dragons, and they each represent one of the main colors and elements." "You have temples for them?" "Our temples are more like natural ruins. Places carved into the land by the claws and magic of dragons." He releases a melancholy note and sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping as his eyes grow distant. "Toz?" The sound of his name seems to pull him out of his thoughts, and he offers a smile that doesn't even attempt to reach his eyes. He nods to an unoccupied mat, "you should probably go and pray or whatever you're supposed to do." Realizing you will not be receiving further explanation, you do as he says, imitating the other inhabitants and closing your eyes. What are you supposed to do after this? Begin calling for Sun or asking for guidance? You shift uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say and not liking the idea of there being eyes on you. [[Utter a prayer.|R2.04Prayer][$charisma +=2]] [[Just exist in the now.|R2.04ExistNow][$stealth +=2]] [[Abandon this.|R2.04Abandon][$force +=2]]
Taking a deep breath in, you begin to utter a silent prayer. "Sun, if you can hear me, then I request your guidance. I'm told that I have a spiritual disease, and I'm not sure what that means. If I am to be honest, I'm not sure what anything means anymore. I feel lost, whereas before I was just trapped." Your heart feels like someone squeezes it. "I'm tired. I'm tired of not being strong enough or not being smart enough. I'm tired of being plagued with questions and believing that I won't ever receive an answer. I just want to understand. I want to smile and see this world for its beauty and not for every dark thing hiding in the shadows. I … I want to not be afraid." Nothing happens. And though a part of you had doubted you would find some kind of enlightenment, you at least feel a tad bit better. You have no idea if Sun or anyone else had heard you, but to admit things, even to yourself, relieves you of a burden. You open your eyes, expecting to come face to face with Sun's statue inside the temple, not that of an erupting volcano. <<include "2.04.2R">>
You relax your body and your mind, letting your awareness spread and take in all of that which surrounds you. You can hear the casual conversations of those nearby, as well as the soft-spoken prayers of those directly behind you. They ask for guidance and for reassurance, selfless in their inquiries, and wishing only for clarity. There are chimes; though you don't remember seeing them, you hear them. They exude a rhythmic clattering each time they collide due to the wind, their pitches sometimes changing, but that is all. The smell, you can not describe. It is incense, that much you know, but that is all that you can grasp. The distinctive aromas are much too subtle, and the lingering smoke hinders your senses. And then the impressions change. The incense is replaced by brimstone. The chimes turn into the singing of birds. You are no longer cold as warmth spreads across you, the breeze being the only thing that keeps such warmth at bay. <<include "2.04.2R">>
This feels silly, all of it. What do they expect you to do? Pray to Sun and hope for a miracle? Sun has never answered you in the past, so why would today be any different? Was it because you are in a temple? You doubt that makes any real difference, and if it does, then a lie rests outside these walls. The healer said you need to invoke spirits, giving you the impression that Sun isn't needed at all. But then what spirits? It would have been much wiser to have her come along. Or maybe she is unable to do anything more than advise. Growling, you begin to move and open your eyes, expecting to come face to face with Sun's statue inside the temple, not that of an erupting volcano. <<include "2.04.2R">>
Despite the closeness of the flowing lava and the fiery mountain before you, everything feels peaceful. Spirit creatures fly through the sky, twirling and dancing around each other with no care existing between them. The atmosphere is clear; the smoke from the volcano exists but doesn't disrupt the lackadaisical clouds or the magic ore shower. <a data-passage="2.05R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Ah, I have been waiting for you for some time." You turn to face the gruff-sounding speaker, immediately dropping to your knees when you look upon the great man standing before you. He wears but a simple robe that displays not only his gleaming golden muscles but also the many scars that have affixed themselves to him and claimed that patch of skin, theirs. His long crimson red hair drifts on a calming current, and intense eyes that appear like fireballs give him a dangerous, spirited demeanor. He exudes the combined idea of both fire and earth. Chaotic nature brought under control, reigned in by his hand alone. "The Great <<link 'High God Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods, and twin brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged with the forming stories, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them.<</dialog>><</link>>." "Titles are fine, but just Sun will do." He sits on the ground, and even still, his height dwarfs you. You feel that even if he is to shrink down to a mortal size, his presence will still cause you to feel meager. "You said you have been waiting for me?" He holds up his wrist where you see a tight binding bandage. The longer you stare, the more you even believe to see it pulse. "Indeed. Long ago, before you were even a thought by parents not yet born, a vindictive woman who had nothing left to lose placed a curse upon your people." [[“A curse?”|R2.05Curse][$suntalk_1 +=1]] [[“My people? The Phoenix?”|R2.05Phoenix][$suntalk_1 +=1]]
"A curse? One can be that strong? I also didn't think they involved the gods." "On most occasions, you would be correct. The majority of curses are simply for petty revenge or stretch no further than a small group of affected people or generation. But there are few who go farther. They give their entire essence away to enact what we refer to as a divine curse. These curses are the strongest of its kind and can only be undone when the conditions of said curse are met." He closes his eyes, scratching the hair along his chin in disgust, "they are a pain." He again holds up his hand, "and are a constant reminder as they bind us to the curse." "Why go that far? Besides angering the gods, I fail to see what one accomplishes." "They accomplish what a regular curse may not. Find yourself a powerful witch or a loophole, and the curse can be reversed or shifted. A divine curse has no such things. The curse feeds off of the energy of the immortal. So the only way for you to stop it would be to destroy the immortal." "Which is impossible?" "Very much so," he chuckles. "What do they give up for something so strong?" "They give themselves to the immortal. Body, soul, and mind. Some regular curses call for blood and death, but the soul can be reincarnated or, at the very least, find itself amongst the elysian plane. For those who give themselves to the lesser gods, upon death, their entire essence belongs to them. They will no longer exist in any form. A curse with a High God though," he shakes his head, "that sees the end of your entire line, past and present." You take a moment to think through the information you have just been told. For someone to go so far as to make this deal, they wish for you to suffer. No, your people to suffer. They — she had waited centuries for this moment. It isn't hard to conclude that this person is whoever had brought you to the tower. The one who everyone refers to as The Shadow. <<if $suntalk_1 is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ [[“My people? The Phoenix?”|R2.05Phoenix][$suntalk_1 +=1]] <</if>>\
"My people? The Phoenix? But what did we ever do to deserve a curse such as this? What wrongs did we cause that centuries have passed, and her vengeance remained strong?" "I cannot answer that. Only she can." "But why me then? If her gripe is with my people, then why didn't this fall on any other or all of us? Why a single child? A child!?" "Again, something I cannot tell you. I am only the overseer of your curse, the one who will make sure that the curse is fulfilled. All I know is that the curse was meant to befall the brightest phoenix. And seeing that you're standing before me, that's you." <<if $suntalk_1 is 2>>\ <a data-passage="2.05.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ [[“A curse?”|R2.05Curse][$suntalk_1 +=1]] <</if>>\
"What must I do? How can I put a stop to this?" There is a forlorn look in his gaze, and he shakes his head, "there is only one thing that will bring the end of this curse. Your death. And you have very little time." "No," you shout, forgetting that the being before you is not a mere person but a god, "there must be a way to slow this down." He shakes his head, "that pain you awakened to is the beginning. It will get worse. And it will consume you until there is nothing left to take." <<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>\ The anger that courses through you is genuine, bordering on hatred and rage. Your need for vengeance rivals that of the woman who has struck this deal. How dare she? How dare anyone believe that their problems, regardless of what they are, play the hand of gods and destiny. You have nothing to do with anything that has happened, and yet it is you who is deemed the rightful bearer of this curse. You alone chosen to carry a burden not your own but of your ancestors. From birth, all because of this person, you are marked. Your hands curl into a fist as you fix a steely gaze on Sun, "how could you even let things like this happen? You're supposed to be a god!" He yawns at your words, unaffected by the rage coating each word that journey past your lips. "It tickles me when mortals believe that gods have a hand in directing everything. Do you believe everything to happen because we deem it to be? That autonomy is not an option?" "You speak to someone who never had such a thing!" He glimpses down at your fists and then back up into your eyes, pushing past defenses and staring at your fuming soul. A flaring spirit that is so charred that it can perhaps veil itself with the blackened surroundings. "You are filled with so much anger." "It's justified," you hiss. Your surroundings begin to shift, parts of the temple coming into view. Sun continues to speak, "but once that anger has dissipated, what are you left with? Who are you without it?" "Does it matter? I'll be dead," you snap, the sound of chimes growing louder. Sun hums, saying nothing more as his world disappears and your own is brought back. <<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>\ "I don't … I'm not ready. There must be something I can do." You rub at your eye, squinting as the tears continue to push their way into existence. To have come this far only to be told that it won't matter, that you are going to die. "So I must endure all this pain? Only for there to be no hope?" The thought alone causes your knees to wobble. What is the point? Why would anyone continue fighting when all that is left is misery and death. Unrighteous death at that. Your destiny has never been your own. From the moment you were born, you were a pawn in a story of retribution and pain, moved to and fro to satisfy another. "There is always hope," Sun murmurs to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and using an invisible force to pick your chin up. "Life does not yield, neither does the spirit unless you will it to. Do what you believe is best but allow me to give you this one piece of advice." Your surroundings begin to shift, parts of the temple coming into view, the sounds of chimes reaching your ears. "Life doesn't always end with death." <<else>>\ The panic subsides, and fear follows soon after. Every emotion that can possibly be strumming through your being begins to dim until they no longer radiate with activity. They become stagnant, giving way to a callous landslide that rushes past them and buries everything it comes into contact with. Sun watches you with renewed interest. "You've learned to turn your emotions off in times of grief? No, in general." "I suppose. I've never actually had a word for it; it always just happens. After so much ache, how does one cope? Especially with the knowledge that in the end, nothing they do will ever change fate." These words should cause an emotion to stir. It should bring sadness or hatred, confusion at the very least, but not indifference. You know that, but this numbness is safe. It is the only thing that allows you to cope and carry on. "Closing yourself off will only work for so long," Sun murmurs to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and using an invisible force to pick your chin up. "Life does not yield, neither does the spirit unless you will it to. Do what you believe is best but do attempt to do one thing for me in your time left." Your surroundings begin to shift, parts of the temple coming into view, the sounds of chimes reaching your ears. "Find a reason to smile." <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.06R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I'll be watching," is the last thing you hear him say before his world completely disappears and your own replaces it. You stare up at the wooden boards that make up the rafters of the building. Your eyes sliding from one before lazily going to the other. So, that is it. In the end, death is the only course. It is the only answer in an incomplete riddle. It is not until you are outside that you find that your companions are looking at you, waiting to hear what happened, if anything. [[“I'm not contagious.”|R2.06Contagious][$clan +=2]] [[“Sun came to me.”|R2.06Sun]] [[“I … I'm going to die.”|R2.06GoingToDie]]
"I'm not contagious," you inform the two of them, "you have nothing to worry about." Deshir expectedly gives you a stiff nod and turns her back to you, walking away. That simple confirmation is all that she needs, though you suppose that is all she and the others really cared about. <<if $rubencomealong>>\ Unexpectedly, Ruben stays where he is to ask, "that hardly gives us enough information to find a cure." "There is no cure. I'm going to die. Sun didn't give me a time or day-," you begin to explain and Ruben stops you yet again. "Sun? The High God you mean?" "Yes." He pauses, waiting for you to say that your words are a mere jest or for your facial expressions to give your teasing nature away. When it doesn't, he nods his head and hums in admiration. You feel slightly bewildered at how you should take such a look. You have never received it before, and you aren't entirely happy to know that the only real reason he is exhibiting it is due to your connection with the High God. Deshir has since returned but remains quiet, an action that you expected. You continue to explain, "like I was saying, Sun didn't give me a time or day but he said I had little time left." Once again, <<if $numb gte $anger and $sad>>emotions bubble up and then die a few ticks after.<<else>>emotions bubble up, threatening to expel themselves for yet another taste of false freedom.<</if>> You are going to die. And what can you do besides prepare? Ruben narrows his eyes in disgust, "you jest." "I truly wish I was." He stays silent for a few minutes later before he shakes his head and walks off. "Everything has a solution. We'll find one." "You care enough to?" He throws you a smirk over his shoulder, <<if $arrangement>>"we still have an arrangement, don't we?"<<else>>"like I said before. You are far more valuable alive than dead."<</if>> Your stomach knots up. It seems that Ruben has found himself in a win/win situation. While you, the exact opposite. <<else>>\ "You don't seem happy by that revelation," Toz points out, regarding you with a mixed expression. "I … I'm going to die. Sun didn't give me -," you begin to explain, but Toz stops you. "Sun? We're bringing Sun into this ... huh, okay. Sure, yea this is making so much more sense." His words are laced with barely concealed sarcasm and though you take note of it, you decide to continue on. Perhaps by the end of your explanation he will believe you. You continue, "like I was saying, Sun didn't give me a time or day, but he said I had little time left." Once again, <<if $numb gte $anger and $sad>>emotions bubble up and then die a few ticks after.<<else>>emotions bubble up, threatening to expel themselves for yet another taste of false freedom.<</if>> You are going to die. And what can you do besides prepare? Toz observes you as if waiting for you to tell him that it is a mere jest, that you perhaps are exaggerating. When you do not, his expression turns grim. "There must be something that can be done." "No. He said as much." "I'm at a loss," he admits, a revelation that seems to shake even he. You don't expect him to have much to add. What can he say to make this better? No one can bring you the peace you crave. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $rubencomealong>>\ "Sun came to me," you start to explain, but Ruben interrupts you. "Sun? The High God? He's the one who explained this to you?" "Yes. He's bound to the curse that flows through me." Ruben hums in admiration, causing you to feel slightly bewildered at how you should take such a look. You have never received it before, and you aren't entirely happy to know that the only real reason he is exhibiting it is due to your connection with the High God. Deshir has since returned but remains quiet, an action that you expected. "I'm going to die, though, Sun told me himself." Ruben narrows his eyes in disgust, "you jest." "I truly wish I was." He stays silent for a few minutes later before he shakes his head and walks off. "Everything has a solution. We'll find one." "You care enough to?" He throws you a smirk over his shoulder, <<if $arrangement>>"we still have an arrangement, don't we?"<<else>>"like I said before. You are far more valuable alive than dead."<</if>> Your stomach knots up. It seems that Ruben has found himself in a win/win situation. While you, the exact opposite. <<else>>\ "Sun came to me," you start to explain, and Toz chuckles. "Well, that can't be good." "What do you mean?" He shrugs, "if a High God is attached to whatever is wrong with you, then that just seems like it can't be good. You're obviously not some lucky figure that the gods have a bet on … actually," he trails off, "that would probably be bad too." Deshir grunts in agreement, her eyes trained on you as she waits for you to continue. "Not helping Toz," you sigh at your own words, "but I suppose that can't be any worse than what I learned." "Which is?" "I'm going to die. Sun didn't tell me a time or a specific day. Just that I would, and that's the end of it." Toz observes you as if waiting for you to tell him that it is a mere jest, that you perhaps are exaggerating. When you do not, his expression turns grim. "There must be something that can be done." "No. He said as much." "I'm at a loss," he admits, a revelation that seems to shake even he. You don't expect him to have much to add. What can he say to make this better? No one can bring you the peace you crave. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I -," you bite your tongue. It was different, hearing Sun say it to you in confidence and then even repeating it to yourself. That was a kind of privacy that you could live with, that you have always lived with. But to say it in front of them would make everything feel much more real than it has. "I'm going to die." The words are whispered underneath your breath, just loud enough that Phaizarn ears didn't have to strain to make out what was said. "Piss off one of the spirits, did you?" Deshir questions, silencing herself when you give her a look that says you were serious. "It wasn't a spirit I pissed off but a person. The same person who brought me to the tower and -" <<if $rubencomealong>>\ Ruben cuts you off with a groan, "stop, you're starting to hurt my head. Explain what was said." "I spoke to Sun," you begin to explain, Deshir snorting and Ruben stops you yet again. "Sun? The High God you mean?" "Yes." He pauses, waiting for you to say that your words are a mere jest or for your facial expressions to give your teasing nature away. When it doesn't, he nods his head and hums in admiration. You feel slightly bewildered at how you should take such a look. You have never received it before, and you aren't entirely happy to know that the only real reason he is exhibiting it is due to your connection with the High God. Deshir remains quiet, an action that you expected. You continue to explain, "like I was saying, Sun didn't give me a time or day but he said I had little time left." Once again, <<if $numb gte $anger and $sad>>emotions bubble up and then die a few ticks after.<<else>>emotions bubble up, threatening to expel themselves for yet another taste of false freedom.<</if>> You are going to die. And what can you do besides prepare? Ruben narrows his eyes in disgust, "you jest." "I truly wish I was." He stays silent for a few minutes later before he shakes his head and walks off. "Everything has a solution. We'll find one." "You care enough to?" He throws you a smirk over his shoulder, <<if $arrangement>>"we still have an arrangement, don't we?"<<else>>"like I said before. You are far more valuable alive than dead."<</if>> Your stomach knots up. It seems that Ruben has found himself in a win/win situation. While you, the exact opposite. <<else>>\ Toz stops you with a wave of his hands, "I'm confused. Explain this to me. What exactly happened and what was said." "I spoke to Sun," you begin to explain, Deshir snorting and Toz raising a brow. "Sun? Huh, okay. Sure, yea this is making so much more sense." His words are laced with barely concealed sarcasm and though you take note of it, you decide to continue on. Perhaps by the end of your explanation he will believe you. "He said that I would die. He didn't give me a time or day, but he said I had little time left." You expect to feel even worse than before, or perhaps lighter. Neither feeling come to you. In the end, you felt just as you did before, hopeless. Toz observes you as if waiting for you to tell him that it is a mere jest, that you perhaps are exaggerating. When you do not, his expression turns grim. "There must be something that can be done." "No. He said as much." "I'm at a loss," he admits, a revelation that seems to shake even he. You don't expect him to have much to add. What can he say to make this better? No one can bring you the peace you crave. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Once the three of you return to camp, you find it as Ruben had requested, pulled up, and everyone ready to head out. <<if $rubencomealong>>Tozraz joins your side as soon as you come over, Deshir and Ruben both filling him in on all that you told them.<<else>>Ruben joins the three of you as soon as he spots you, Deshir, and Toz, immediately filling him in on all that transpired and what you told them.<</if>> "So, what's the plan?" Toz questions, fiddling with his own pack. "We fly the ?princess here to the Phoenix territory and bring all of this to an end. Pronto," Ruben replies. "No!" you shout, your heart quickening at the mere idea of flying, "I'm not going into the air." Ruben chuckles darkly, "I don't remember asking you for your opinion." "Ruben!" Toz growls. "We knock ?her out and call it a day. We'll be through with this little venture in a matter of days." "And the others?" Deshir questions, "I do believe that we have more non-dragons here than dragons. We will not all be able to keep up." "Half of you go home," Ruben continues to argue. <a data-passage="2.07.1R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"We are not knocking $name out and separating. Especially when we could still very well be followed by the man from earlier," Toz snaps back. Deshir chuckles and shakes her head, leaning onto a nearby tree as she lazily gestures to Ruben, her words directed at you, "you must excuse him. When he gets like this, he doesn't use that brain of his often." "Both of you shut up. I already made up my mind." "Is that what you call it?" Toz shakes his head, taking a deep breath in to calm himself and placing his hands on Ruben's shoulders, "Ruben. You know neither Deshir nor I would argue if we thought the chance of everything going well was high." Deshir nods in agreement. "Too many things can go wrong and will. For all we know, $name's timer might speed up if ?she<<verb "'s" "'re">> put in stressful situations like that." "Also, do you expect one of us to ride alongside ?her to make sure ?her_ unconscious body does not fall," Deshir eyes you and then him, "I doubt you are strong enough to carry two." Ruben seems to take her words to heart, stiffening as he faces her head-on, "the last thing you should be worried about is my strength. I can carry all three of you if need be." [[“Can you just listen to them?”|R2.07JustListen][$vigor +=5; $ruben -=10; $clan +=3]] [[“If this is quicker …”|R2.07Quicker][$vigor -=3; $ruben +=10; $clan -=3]] [[“Is he always this stubborn?”|R2.07Stubborn][$clan +=2; $ruben -=5]] [[Walk away.|R2.07WalkAway][$clan -=2; $ruben +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combative ++</span><</if>> "Can you just listen to them instead of arguing your point whenever you can?" "You do not have a say in this discussion," he growls. <<if $arrangement>>\ "Actually, I do, since this involves my life. You keep reminding me of our little arrangement, so now it's my turn. What do you think will happen if I tell my parents that you treated me poorly?" You raise your hand, stopping him from speaking, "and if you don't believe that will work, then know that as soon as we're married, I do have a say in things. If you wish to do as you wish, then I can do so as well." <<else>>\ "I do. It's my life, and I will be damned if I continue to stand on the sidelines allowing everyone else to tell me how to live it. Do what you want but know that from here on out, I will fight. I will fight every step of the way to make sure you don't get what you want and to make it as hard as possible for you to reach your goals." Ruben clenches his jaw but says nothing. <</if>>\ Deshir chuckles, walking away but not before saying, "I like ?her." Toz gives you a victorious smirk, being the second to depart and leaving Ruben there to glower and fester in his defeat. <a data-passage="2.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Compliant ++</span><</if>> You clear your throat, all three pairs of eyes swiveling over to you, each of them holding a different emotion. Toz looks relieved that you're about to speak, while Deshir seems already bored with a mix of annoyance. Ruben carries the same indignation, but he seems to be seething, already formulating a comeback for whatever you're to say. "If Ruben's way is quicker, then I say we go with his idea." "Well, that's the thing," Ruben argues, "no one asked — wait. What did you say?" <<if $smart >=50>>\ "Yes, speak less and listen more," you murmur, "I said that I agree with you." Deshir joins Toz, conveying looks of surprise and confusion, glancing at each other before looking at a still shocked but grinning Ruben. <<else>>\ "Yes, I said that I agree with you." Deshir joins Toz, conveying looks of surprise and confusion, glancing at each other before looking at a still shocked but grinning Ruben. <</if>>\ "See." "I don't care," Deshir growls, "say nothing to save your pride, but we leave by land, or so help me, I'll clip your wings." Ruben's mouth closes as she stalks off. "You didn't fight her?" you ask, and Toz grins. "That's because she's done it before." He backs away, "I'll tell the others it's time to pull out." <a data-passage="2.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Is he always this stubborn, or am I just the lucky person who brings this side out of him?" Toz sighs mournfully, wiping his face with his hand, "I really wish it was the latter. I truly do." "Yea, $name, don't flatter yourself," Deshir chuckles, about to turn away before gazing over at Ruben, "say nothing to save your pride. But we should move by land like how we've been doing." Toz backs away next with a triumphant grin, "I'll tell the others it's time to pull out." <a data-passage="2.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
No longer wishing to be part of this discussion, though it concerns you, you turn and leave. The trio grows quiet at your departure, but they don't stay that way for long, going back to bickering a moment later. You believe Toz and Deshir will win the overall argument, only if due to being the majority and possessing double the stubbornness. You have just learned that your life will end soon. That after fifteen years of being a prisoner and two years of being impuissant, it is all to end. Eight years. Eight years of freedom and happiness and some of those years don't seem to count as they were filled with the memories of a frail child. So in the end, what did you do? What did you accomplish and enjoy? What is the point? "Up, $name," Deshir shouts to you as she walks by with a smug grin, "we'll be moving out in a few minutes." Glancing back over at where the trio had previously stood, you only find Ruben, who mutely licks his wounds due to having lost the battle. <a data-passage="2.08R"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
When it is time to go, you glance back at the area that was once littered with tents and seats. Where clothes and mugs alike have been discarded and where bodies once occupied space. The only thing that remains is that of the doused fire and logs pulled in from the surrounding forest area. Your eyes linger on the scene, finding the desolate and minimal set to perfectly describe how you feel inside. An abandoned camp where only a few things remain, some lost and some forgotten. It is no longer a place that people convene by, the warmth of the fire turning strangers into acquaintances and mere conversations into memories. It is now a place of rejection, to be avoided, and merely a sight that causes people to smile in a bittersweet way and say, 'oh yea, I remember that moment.' Your heart crumples. 'Oh yea … I remember ?her.' [[Story End->DemoEnd]]
<<silently>> <<if $timid >100>>\ <<set $timid to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $timid <0>>\ <<set $timid to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $leery >100>>\ <<set $leery to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $leery <0>>\ <<set $leery to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $positive >100>>\ <<set $positive to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $positive <0>>\ <<set $positive to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $ruben >100>>\ <<set $ruben to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $ruben <0>>\ <<set $ruben to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $vigor >100>>\ <<set $vigor to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $vigor <0>>\ <<set $vigor to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $smart >100>>\ <<set $smart to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $smart <0>>\ <<set $smart to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $ozara >100>>\ <<set $ozara to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $ozara <0>>\ <<set $ozara to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $guilt >100>>\ <<set $guilt to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $guilt <0>>\ <<set $guilt to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $heart >100>>\ <<set $heart to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $heart <0>>\ <<set $heart to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $tower >100>>\ <<set $tower to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $tower <0>>\ <<set $tower to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $nour >100>>\ <<set $nour to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $nour <0>>\ <<set $nour to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $memory >100>>\ <<set $memory to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $memory <0>>\ <<set $memory to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $spirit >100>>\ <<set $spirit to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $spirit <0>>\ <<set $spirit to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $trust >100>>\ <<set $trust to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $trust <0>>\ <<set $trust to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $makaio >100>>\ <<set $makaio to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $makaio <0>>\ <<set $makaio to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $zarik >100>>\ <<set $zarik to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $zarik <0>>\ <<set $zarik to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $action >100>>\ <<set $action to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $action <0>>\ <<set $action to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $trouble >100>>\ <<set $trouble to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $trouble <0>>\ <<set $trouble to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $cold >100>>\ <<set $cold to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $cold <0>>\ <<set $cold to 0>> <</if>>\ <</silently>>
<<nobr>>\ <<set $interfere = false; $kindeyes = false; $injury_slicedarm = false>> <<unset $behinddoor; $closet; $underneathbed; $drugged; $attack; $saidit>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "dark" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ Sleep does not visit you that night. Nor does it weigh heavy on the eyes of those you find yourself in the company of. A few allow their dreams to take them, but the majority seem to be as antsy as you, their eyes either on what lies beyond the cave, or trained on you. [[You had been hoping to try and escape.|Z1.00Escape][$action +=5]] [[You disliked the constant attention.|Z1.00Attention][$action -=5]] [[You have been on constant edge.|Z1.00Edge]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> As soon as you sat down, you began planning your escape, ready for the majority of them to fall victim to their own ebbing awareness before rushing off. Fleeing during a blizzard is a crazy idea, but you rather take your chances with familiar mountain weather than unfamiliar assailants. //Though,// you think and eye the darkening bandage that covers your leg, you probably would not have gotten far before you succumbed to your own wound. Then death would, at last, have you. It's a plan … not a smart one, but at least it is one. <<include "1.00Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Response ++</span><</if>> Not once have you thought about running. Well, that isn't entirely true, the thought came to you a few times through the night, but you have enough foresight to know that you will not get far. You have your injury, a lack of direction, a blizzard amidst the night, and these people whose shape you still did not know. It is far more likely that abandoning this cave will lead to your death. You wish far more for your kidnappers to sleep so that you can avoid their gazes and exist in peace. Or to even relax for a mere second. Your body is stiff, and your bones and muscles, still not officially done healing from the torture, are being pushed to the limit. <<include "1.00Z">>
You witnessed the potential fall of the tower - your home. You have no idea about the fate of those you care for, and find yourself amongst not only strangers but a house nevertheless. If Bane taught you anything, it's that the houses can not be trusted, none of them. And so, the fear of the future and what may await you is enough to keep you up and on edge. <<include "1.00Z">>
A yawn escapes you, and your eyes attempt to close, but you shake the sleep away. The fact that you are tired in any capacity is shocking, but that is probably due to adrenaline withdrawal. As soon as it all came crashing down, your body withdrew and begged for release, if only for a moment. You were tempted to give it that, but your distrust in those surrounding you has not yet dwindled. You rather stay awake and keep an eye on them. <<if $purpose is "lost">>Before this, you were lost, and now you feel even more so. Not only have you been questioning your purpose and what the future will hold, but now it is even bleaker. If Bane is dead, then what? What will you do?<<elseif $purpose is "confident">>You are unsure how hard it will be, but you have to find a way out of here and back to the tower. Back to Bane's side. Questioning if Bane is still around and what you will do from there can come after you're safe and away from your captors. Until then, escape and survive - that is the most important thing.<<else>>For so long, you have wanted some form of freedom, though you had no idea what it would look like. For all you know, freedom looks like Bane's purpose fulfilled, and you being able to grow fat off complacency and simplicity. Now that you're here, you're not sure where to go next or what to think. You just know that you have to find a way to survive.<</if>> You turn your attention to the group nearest to you, five of them that have chosen to take shifts in watching you and are now up and discussing something, speaking adamantly with their hands. [[Gaze at their scales.|Z1.00Scales]] [[Think about their lack of words.|Z1.00Language]] [[Examine their tattoos.|Z1.00Tattoos]]
Though their second form is still a mystery, you believe it has something to do with a reptile. A dragon seems like a possibility, maybe even some other kind of lizard or snake. But that is as far as you have gotten. They all have scales decorating their skin, though the placement and frequency shift drastically from one to another. Some seem riddled with them; it covers the entirety of their arms but then that is it. While others look as if they have only one small grouping of scales, and it ends there. The colors are not as rebellious. Many hold shades of green and brown, but you also see black, red, and dirty gold that cause you to question if orange is a more suitable word to describe it or just another shade of brown. <<include "1.01Z">>
You first noticed it when the two guards ignored you and brought you to the cave, but it had simply been a fleeting thought. Now it's hard not to take note of. They all choose to use their hands to communicate, performing various actions and symbols in the air that will prompt whoever they 'speak' towards to do the same. A few times, you hear words being exchanged, and even more often, your captors seem to utilize both forms of communication. You even seen one doing this hand language to one of the feline beasts that traveled with them, and shockingly, the cat reacts. <<include "1.01Z">>
Their tattoos are one of the first things you notice about them, and you have realized two things since your initial inspection. One is that many of them all share the same tattoo. The right side differs; that side you see duplicated once or twice amongst the different faces, but otherwise is always different. But the left, almost everyone has the same, the only differences being color or that some have less of the tattoo than another. It means something, you are sure of it, and your curiosity finds itself rising and falling throughout the night. At the moment, your interest in the matter is diminutive, overtaken by the uncontrollable want for answers. <<include "1.01Z">>
You sigh and glance back at the cave floor. What is this? What are you supposed to do? Your world feels like it has successfully come crashing down in a matter of hours. And you are the debris, flitting about in the wind with no purpose nor destination. Everything you've ever known ripped from you for the second time. You were already feeling lost in the tower, wandering in search of something or in need of affirmation that Bane's shallow words no longer provided. And now here you are. Yet again lacking it. What do you have? A broken form, a name that means hardly anything, and an unclear future that constantly shifts farther away from your understanding. You are an arborist without trees, your mind telling you that they will never grow, but your body unwilling to listen. Just a bit more time and they will spring from the earth, and all your problems will thus be solved. [[Hold in the tears.|Z1.01Sad][$sad +=5]] [[Clench your fists.|Z1.01Anger][$anger +=5]] [[And then it felt like nothing.|Z1.01Numb][$numb +=5]]
Everyone you know could potentially be gone. Why? Why did this constantly happen? What did you do to deserve this? You clench your eyes closed, Laurens' lessons repeating through your head. Crying is a weakness. Showing any kind of outward emotion is a weakness, and you are not weak. Years of having this lesson beaten into you, and you still feel like some feeble adolescent unable to control themselves. Far too simple-minded to even stop from crying, let alone mask it behind a wall of neutrality. It is pathetic, and it disgusts you. And for some reason, all of that makes the need to curl up and grieve even more appealing. <<include "1.01.1Z">>
The anger stirring inside you is sickening. Not because of your situation or those around you but because it dares to show itself. It is different than sadness. You understand this. Laurens always worded it as if anger is crucial, but he also notes that an individual should control it, and that is something you have yet to master. Your anger gets the better of you, and besides helping you to overcome the pain that riddles your broken form, it serves no other purpose but to deter you. It knows you are weak, and so it does what it wishes. It also stacks, similar to what it is aiming to do now. Your circumstances, the pain, your thoughts, all of it is being utilized, and you can do nothing more than accept it. <<include "1.01.1Z">>
You almost wish to laugh at how the feeling takes you over, threatening to be your end, but then vanishes a second later. It always feels like a sick joke, one whose punchline has been told in a thousand different ways yet still does not seem any funnier than the last. You can never understand quite how you feel about this numb sensation, to welcome or abhor it. Laurens is proud of your reactions, and for that, you always feel a swell of pride. But you also feel an odd sense of manglement. Feelings will surface, and as soon as they do, they are executed, and you feel like a hollowed husk. You once believed that numbness was emotion in and of itself, but what happens when that too is destroyed? What is left? <<include "1.01.1Z">>
You need some air and to stretch your legs. This cave is suddenly becoming a lot more crowded, and though you are surrounded by snow and wind, you feel as if you are overheating. Staggering to your feet, you lean against the wall for support but freeze when you notice that all movement nearby has stopped. All eyes are on you, and you catch a few hands hovering over weapons. "I'm going to get some air," you growl, fighting the dread that sinks onto your shoulders, chirping in your ear and declaring you the odd one out here. It is odd. You're used to the presence of soldiers but being scorned by them brings out a peculiar feeling. Quicker than you expect, you wander outside and breathe in the crisp air, not realizing how badly you are shaking until you're away from the general populace. Your chest hurts, but you bury that pain and any other bold enough to show. <a data-passage="1.01.1.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"You are not weak," you mumble to yourself, repeating the words until your body believes it. "And yet, your actions say differently." Your head shoots up. Others are standing around, but they aren't the speaker. You continue looking around when you see a man not too far away from you. He sits next to one of the large, slumbering felines, gazing at you with an emotion you are not familiar with. It isn't contempt or pity. No, you have seen and know those well. To say that the emotion residing in those violet eyes is neither positive nor negative is as close to an explanation you can find. Guarded. Yes, heavily guarded and controlled. You study him for a moment longer, realizing that this is the same man from yesterday, the one who initially took you from the tower. You aren't sure what you expected, but this is not it. Words form but fail to cooperate with one another to express how you feel. His skin is like that of a cliff, jagged and dangerous, the area right below both eyes forming large ridge-like scales and his forehead a mountain range of indents and crevices. A creature comes to mind, but the name slips from both your mind and tongue upon formation. His pearly white hair rivals the purity of the snow, and if he angles his head just right, it almost appears as if the two are one. Everything about him seems precise and sharp, his eyes and jaw, his cheekbones and ears. Nothing appears out of place, yet you want to say there is almost a rugged and feral sensation that stalks him. "You stare but don't speak?" he points out, gazing away, "most cultures will find that rude." [[“Perhaps as rude as kidnapping.”|Z1.01RudeAsKidnapping]] [[“As well as threatening someone.”|Z1.01ThreateningSomeone]] [[“Who are you?”|1.01.2Z]]
"Perhaps as rude as kidnapping someone. Though, one seems far ruder than the other and a lot more worthy of execution." "Kidnapping," he repeats, tilting his head to the side before shrugging his shoulders, "sure. If you wish to call it that, then I see no fault." <<include "1.01.2Z">>
"I think most cultures would also find holding a blade to one's throat equally, if not even more, rude than that." The corners of his mouth tug upwards just enough before falling back into place, "you would be surprised. Some may even consider that a greeting." <<include "1.01.2Z">>
"Who are you? Why did you take me?" He gazes over at you, but his eyes immediately seek out your leg, "how's your leg?" "That is not an answer to either of my questions." Your eyes meet, and you feel a chill ride your spine. A foreboding sense of danger begins to settle over you, causing a mix of reactions. Part of you wishes to flee, to head back into the cave and find the darkest corner to wait out in, to forever hide. While another seeks to provoke whatever this is. To poke at it and see exactly how much of a threat it can be. A ridiculous idea but one your brain emboldens you into choosing. "I don't like to repeat myself," he sighs, getting to his feet and inevitably waking up the slumbering beast near him. It stretches and opens its maw to yawn, giving you a perfect view of the canines adorning its mouth. Along with the quills along its back, the creature in front of you is a fearsome adversary, much like its phaizarn companion. The man stops in front of you. "It's a tedious affair that I do not have the patience for. Will you make me repeat myself?" <a data-passage="1.01.2.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You maintain a brave front, but in the end, those eyes slice past any defense that you may have built. They remind you of Laurens' gaze, cutting, but this man is far more experienced, dangerous, and unlike Laurens, unpredictable. "It's better." <<if $cold >=50>>You leave it at that, he asked and you answered. Simple.<<else>>You almost pose your lips together to thank him, or more so his medic, for bandaging it. But you stop yourself. Your warmth is not meant for people like him.<</if>> He nods and straightens, "my name is Khan Zarik Al-Asherath. Simply put, for you to understand, Warlord of the Basilisks." That's what those formations along his cheeks and forehead remind you of, a snake. Basilisk, the same house that Laurens had escaped from. He spoke little of his time there, seeming to have no good memories of the place he once called home. The little that he did say was extreme, a culture of violence and hatred that made Bane's study lessons of even the dragons sound amiable. [[Tell him your name.|Z1.01TellName][$cold -=5; $nametold = true]] [[Ask your question again.|Z1.01QuestionAgain][$cold +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Warm ++</span><</if>> "$name $surname," you reply on instinct. "I don't care." He walks past you but doesn't enter the cave. "Prepare yourselves for travel. We head towards the village." There is no hesitation of those within as they rise and begin to prepare themselves and their packs. <<include "1.01.3Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cold ++</span><</if>> You prepare to ask your second question again, hoping to better understand your positioning and how much value your life currently has. But before doing so, Khan Zarik walks past you and towards the mouth of the cave. "Prepare yourselves for travel. We head towards the village." There is no hesitation of those within as they rise and begin to prepare themselves and their packs. <<include "1.01.3Z">>
One of the men comes to his side, and Khan Zarik glances over at you with nonchalance paired to his actions. "Ari Baz, appoint three men to watch the phoenix," he walks away, "I want to be in the village before midday." Your attention shifts to the man he had initially spoken to. And you confirm an observation that you have already noticed. There is less of his tattoo than Khan Zarik's but more than the others. Perhaps it relies on rank, similar to how rankings in the tower are handled, this one simply being visual. <a data-passage="1.02Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
This Ari Baz character calls over three guards, speaking in their own unique language before nodding at you and leaving to go to Khan Zarik's side. Your entire body stiffens as the three appointed guards approach you, cockiness blazing in their eyes. "Be a nice little phoenix and turn around," the one with the rope orders, but you don't budge. Part of you is in the moment while the other is more confused about what you're planning on doing. Three people, all soldiers, which mean that despite how seasoned, they know how to fight. That and it isn't //just// three soldiers, there is a small contingent right behind them, and all they have to do is whistle for more. //But they're cocky//, you remind yourself. There is a greater chance of them beating you to death than them turning around to tell their superiors that they failed and needed assistance. "Turn around," one without the ropes orders, grabbing for your shoulder <<if $notouchy>>but you manage to dodge the hand, tensing as you await the hand that will strike you. The punishment is always far worse when you flinch, but it iswas something so ingrained that you no longer question or ponder it. The soldier's hand finds purchase on your shoulder regardless.<<else>>and applying strategic pressure that would probably work on anyone else.<</if>> The pain is there, and then it fizzles out, hardly giving you time to recognize it. A thumping heart is the only thing that shows evidence of your thrill. This is the first time you've been able to see your pain tolerance in action. You never doubted that the lessons were not working, but you had begun to tell yourself that you would never need it, pain for the sake of pain. "Turn around," the one whose hand is on your shoulder growls, his thumb pressing into the area right under your collarbone. You grunt but again, nothing. "How hard is it to get ?her to just turn around," the third asks and approaches, pushing her partner out of the way, reaching for your wrist. [[Trip her.|Z1.02Trip][$action +=3; $unit -=5]] [[Dodge.|Z1.02Dodge][$action -=3]] [[Attack her.|Z1.02Attack][$action +=5; $injury_slicedarm = true; $unit -=10]] [[Do nothing, including not move.|Z1.02Nothing][$action -=5; $unit +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> In her attempt to grab you, she opens herself up to a slew of easy attacks. You envision each of them, but they all end with you being the one to pay. You can take her down, right here and now but then what of her companions? And that doesn't even begin to take into account those further behind her. Still, you feel it hard to give up such an exciting opportunity. As soon as her fingers graze your skin, you stick your foot out and pivot to the side, her own momentum carrying her forward and into the snow. You smirk, but you're the only one who finds such a thing humorous. "You think you're clever?" she hisses, about to get to her feet when someone clears their throat. The other two guards wince and turn, looking to see their entire unit now staring at them. <<include "1.02.1Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> It is more of an instinct than a well-thought-out move, but there is still some consideration implied. She reaches with her right, and so, before she can grab you, you dodge to the left. You shift your footing, ready to continue this if she tries to touch you again. "You stubborn, little -," she growls when someone clears their throat. The three of them wince and turn, looking to see their entire unit now staring at them. <<include "1.02.1Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> Your entire body grows stiff as she approaches, and you also notice that her action has led to a great many openings for you to exploit. Trip her, elbow to the face, kick to the stomach, and probably a few more if you care to think of them. But you have no time for that as she moves forward, and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You pivot and slam your elbow right into her face, sighing in a tiresome fashion when the protruding scales on her face slice your arm. She staggers past you, turning with a pained grin, "that's what you get, asshole." She moves to grab you again when someone clears their throat. The other two guards wince and turn, looking to see their entire unit now staring at them. <<include "1.02.1Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> Despite making herself such an easy target, you do nothing to aggravate her or those surrounding you. It doesn't matter what openings are shown, fighting is unwise, and whether you take out none, one, or even two, you will be the one to suffer in the end. She grabs your wrist and attempts to spin you around to face the cave's wall, but you don't budge, grounding yourself so that you are an irksome force to manipulate. "You stubborn, little -," she growls when someone clears their throat. The three of them wince and turn, looking to see their entire unit now staring at them. <<include "1.02.1Z">>
Khan Zarik approaches you with a disinterested expression. If he could be anywhere else right now, he would gladly trade this for that, and you can't say you feel much different. <<if $injury_slicedarm>>You clutch your injured arm close, wondering how much blood you'll lose in this short amount of time.<</if>> Everyone is still, waiting on him to act. Their behavior causes you to envision Laurens and how the guards value his guidance. He motions for the guards near you to move, and they do so immediately so he can approach. "Let me be," he inhales and exhales deeply, "as clear as possible. You are a guest -" [[Let him finish.|Z1.02Finish][$trouble -=5; $zarik +=3]] [[Interrupt him with a scoff.|Z1.02Interrupt][$trouble +=5; $zarik -=3; $interfere = true]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Legate ++</span><</if>> You bite your tongue. The term guest must mean something entirely different in basilisk culture. "You are a guest, but that does not change the fact that you are a stranger and your circumstances are not quite what I was told. Due to that, I will not leave the safety of my unit, or yours, to chance. Those ropes make it so you cannot touch them, and they have no reason whatsoever to place their hands on you. Understand?" You nod slowly, and he closes his eyes and nods as well, motioning for the two guards to once again move in. This time, you allow them to bind your wrists. The entire time you don't take your eyes off of Zarik as he walks back to the main bulk of the group. <<include "1.02.2Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hellion ++</span><</if>> You snort in derision, "guest? Is this how you -" Your words are cut off by a foreign scream. When is the last time you've screamed? Not because emotions got the better of you or something similar, but because of actual pain overtaking you? Zarik releases your hand after digging his fingers into <<if $injury_slicedarm>>the fresh wound near your elbow<<else>>one of your arm wounds<</if>>, and you fall to the ground, gasping for air and feeling sweat begin to accumulate on your forehead. He crouches in front of you. "I don't know how things went in that little tower of yours, but I can assure you, we do not behave the same. Learn that now before you enter the city, it will do you well." He stands and walks away, allowing the guard with the rope to come in and bind your wrists. <<include "1.02.2Z">>
He walks past all of them, shouting as he goes, "if we are not in that village before midday, then each and every one of you will suffer for it. I don't care who is to blame." The threat sparks a fire beneath all of their feet, and their pace picks up. "Move!" the guard hisses in your ear, pushing you forward and almost causing you to stumble. You do as she says, but your mind is elsewhere. So many questions, and not one of them answered. You are confused about what you should do. Running isn't an option. Neither is fighting or screaming for help that is currently immaterial. But then, what does that leave you with? Walking with a militaristic group of people for reasons unknown and to who knows where. The only thing you can think is to somehow get away once you reach the village, to find someone who will help, or at least hide until you can figure out what your next move will be. [[A wave of fresh hatred washes over you.|Z1.02WaveOfHatred]] [[The feeling of being lost and in danger overwhelms you.|Z1.02LostAndDanger]] [[You were at odds. Happy to be released but doubting your survival.|Z1.02FreeAndSurvive]]
As you take in those you are currently traveling with, a wave of staggering hatred overtakes you. You feel nothing but malice for them and what they helped to do back at the tower. Along with the other houses, they helped to kill servants and guards alike. Servants, who were undoubtedly unarmed. They stole you for whatever selfish reasons they have, and now you feel as if their foot is hovering just over your throat. If you could make them all pay, you surely would. <<include "1.02.3Z">>
You have felt like your life was pointless before, a wandering spirit with no purpose. You have felt unloved and abandoned. But you don't recall ever feeling lost, not in this way. This feeling originates from the sense of being surrounded by dangerous foes and not knowing what to do. In the tower, you felt lost because of a purpose that has yet to show itself and a body and mind that cannot keep up with what is expected of it. This is not the same. Or if it is, it feels more like an accumulation of everything. <<include "1.02.3Z">>
You have long-awaited something new. Years ago, you lost sight of who Bane wished you to be and the product that Laurens was molding you to become. For a time, you sought to reclaim that identity and understanding, but you never did. Instead, you looked on to the future and what you wanted for yourself, a most rebellious thought if there were any other. And now you have it. These people have given you a way out but brought yet another problem down upon you. Uncertainty. Your future with them is bleak, something you are not used to. In the tower, you knew how to act, what to do, and how to traverse the halls to stay out of trouble<<if $trouble >=50>> ... or at least you did, but you just never put such thoughts into practice.<<else>>.<</if>> Here, you have no clue what to do, and that may be what spells your end. <<include "1.02.3Z">>
You stumble over something but recover a second later, finding that your foot has just gotten caught in a small snowdrift. At that moment, your soul decides that a quick interlude will be acceptable, and your eyes take in the surroundings. Despite the freedoms you had, you were never allowed past the fort's walls. Bane would say that you were not prepared for what the world would send your way. One glance at your wrists is enough to tell you that she has a point. You hardly remember the sights from your childhood, how grass and trees would appear. How flowers could hold a certain vibrancy that did not have to do with the palettes of snow. You forget what rivers and lakes look like, and of course, you don't recall smells. You even have an odd time picturing the sun and the many colors of the sky. Upon the mountains, the sky hardly shifted. Clouds were always in sight, and either the sky was a bleak blue or a depressing gray, warning you of an incoming blizzard. You still don't see this now, but the horizon shows promise. You are currently heading downhill, and miles out are specks of trees that hide the rest of the landscape from view. It is a sight you didn't know you missed until now. <a data-passage="1.03Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Sharp pain in your chest seizes you, and you pause, concentrating to dispel it. This never actually rids you of any pain, just nulls it so that you can continue on without it debilitating you. And that is what it does here. For a moment, your attention shifts to the three guards that had been assigned to watch you. You possess questions, and they possibly have answers. [[Continue walking.|Z1.03KeepWalking]] [[Ask them.|Z1.03AskThem]]
You hold significant doubt that they will answer any of the questions you pose; if they even know the answer. No. You narrow your eyes and search for Khan Zarik, failing to find him. He'll be the one to answer your questions, though that will prove to be even more of a task than getting him to say his name. <<include "1.03.1Z">>
You clear your throat, and all three pause and glance over at you at the same time, a look of incredulity on their face. Ignoring that, you question, "where are we going?" One opens their mouth to answer, but another elbows them, quickly moving their hands. The other doesn't respond in kind, only offering a glare that causes the other to continue. You are beginning to despise this, and the need to want to learn this form of communication grows inside you. After a few minutes of them going back and forth, the woman stops them. She speaks to them before looking over at you with a smirk. You don't have to ponder what that look means. It simply says that you aren't getting any answers out of them. <<include "1.03.1Z">>
You travel on when the sound of a nearby horn captures your attention. You know that horn well. The same exact sound would ring across the battlements and scrimmaging area, warning you that Raznith wished to speak. Your heart thumps as you turn and look at the top of the hill that you just traveled down from, finding a row of guards there and Raznith at the head. "You have one chance," he yells out, the guards near you stopping and looking as well, "hand the phoenix over to us and leave with your lives." Khan Zarik had perhaps twenty or thirty soldiers on his side. Raznith's group appears to have the same, if not slightly more. And you know how Raznith trained those who seek his guidance and teachings. They know how to fight as a team, using one another's strength to push them to victory. You know because you trained alongside them. But then … you narrow your eyes as you gaze down the line of those standing proudly. Where is Laurens? You're unable to come up with any reason why Laurens would not be here now. Not only is he Raznith's right hand, but he is your instructor. Your safety matters to him. This leads you to believe he's either injured, missing, or dead. [[Think positive thoughts.|Z1.03Pos][$positive +=5]] [[Think the worst.|Z1.03Neg][$positive -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hopeful ++</span><</if>> He is simply injured. Back at the tower and having Tyrae watch over him and any others that she can aid. <<include "1.03.2Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Bleak ++</span><</if>> He is dead or at least lying on death's table with whatever injury he found himself acquiring. <<include "1.03.2Z">>
"Or what, dragon-born?" You turn to see Khan Zarik riding up on the back of his feline, dismounting at the very front of the group. "You are with a foreign organization instead of your rightful house. I must say that this little fort of yours is causing me to become more and more curious." Raznith ignores him, "if you wish to die, then you only need to say so. We will secure the phoenix one way or another." Khan Zarik hums, turning his back to Raznith, a move that you find irrational and flippant, as if saying he has no fear of those who hold the higher ground. He speaks to his own, "any of you wish to engage them in battle?" You narrow your eyes, watching as no one moves forward, no one speaks up, and no one grabs their blades. If anything, some take a step back. Others even look ready to resume walking. "I assure you," Khan Zarik begins, you can see his smirk from here. And even if that was not possible, then every word he utters is laced with the confidence that his posture demonstrates. "That they are more afraid of what will become of them if they do not enter that village by midday, then whatever you and your sucklings can //attempt// to do." "So be it," Raznith pulls out his sword, and the guards who stand at his side charge forward. You expect Khan Zarik's soldiers to do the same, but they don't move a muscle, still looking to their leader. You ponder what will happen if Khan Zarik gives no order at all. Will they simply let themselves be massacred? He raises his fist lazily, and finally, his unit storms forward, clashing with the enemy. [[Attempt to make your way to Raznith's side.|Z1.03Stealth][$action -=3; $stealth +=3]] [[Steal the sword at the guard's side.|Z1.03Force][$action +=3; $force +=3; $unit -=5]] [[Stay where you are.|Z1.03Stay][$charisma +=3; $unit +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> You need to put space between you and them. Moving away from the three guards that have been assigned to you, you deftly move with the charging crowd to get closer to the front lines. Once there, you will separate before you manage to get yourself skewed on some poorly swung sword and then seek out Raznith. You only need to get to his side. Thankfully, the guards seem far too busy, thanks to two approaching figures. You flee to the outskirts of the group, looking to the top of the hill where Raznith and Khan Zarik are engaged. Keeping your distance, you move closer to the tall hill pausing only when Khan Zarik's leopard cuts you off. It growls, giving you a clear view of not only the raised quills along its back but also its enlarged canines. In its eye, the look of a predator determining if what stands before it will become its prey. It stalks closer, and you stumble backward, not knowing what to do. If you run, will it take chase? If you stay here, will it pounce? You watch as it takes a seat, the quills no longer standing on end but not disappearing within its fur either. The battle rages on, bodies dropping and tired arms yanking their weapons from those who are no longer a problem. <a data-passage="1.04Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> You don't hesitate. Hesitating will get you killed, and you have no time for that. You lunge forward and grab hold of the blade's grip, moving backward and yanking it out of the scabbard. "You truly are idiotic," the woman whispers, taking a step back. You smirk, attempting to cut through your bindings when you realize why she hasn't immediately attacked you. The other two soldiers had cut down the guards headed your way and then turned their gaze to you. "Drop it." <<if $leery >=50>>\ "Dropping it seems to be the way to secure my death," you voice, pointing the blade between the two of them, trying to get a decent grip on it, but your bound hands make such a task near impossible. "We will not kill you," one of them reassures, securing his own weapon. But as he does this, the other leaps in, deflecting your blade with his, and the second lands a kick to your stomach. You stare up at the sky as all three figures come and stand over you. "Idiotic indeed," the woman soldier sighs as she grabs her weapon, turning back to the battle. <<else>>\ You drop the blade, seeing no point in keeping it and making things worse. The two men exchange glances, speaking with only their eyes and body language before simultaneously putting their blades back in their hilts. The woman approaches and pushes you down before reaching for her blade, throwing you a dirty look in the process. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="1.04Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You choose to stay where you are. Attempting to lose the guards seems silly and fighting, even more laughable. If Raznith's group somehow lost, then you didn't wish to make yourself even more of an enemy against those you will definitely be stuck with. The female guard is the one who sticks to your side as the others charge on to meet two people who head your way. If they die, then you go with them. If they don't, then you are where you are going to end up anyway. They cannot put any of this on your shoulders in the end. The two soldiers from the tower are no match for the guards, and both are cut down in record time. They attempt to further their life by pressing down on their wounds, gasping for air, but it all seems for nothing. These are soldiers that you know. And you find yourself reliving the events of the tower all over again. Only this time, it feels far more personal. The acts are in your face and not happening on a battlefield away from your field of view. <a data-passage="1.04Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Behold," Khan Zarik yells, his voice carrying across the entire battlefield, and everyone pauses to look at him. Your eyes widen, and you fight a shiver that takes over your body. "Your leader." He tosses the head of Raznith down the slope, and all eyes watch as it rolls, finally stopping at the base of the hill. The felines pounce on it, and you glance away, not wishing to see their ferocity as they argue for the head of someone you knew. [[He was weak. He paid the price.|Z1.04PayPrice]] [[This couldn't be happening.|Z1.04NotHappening]] [[Think of other things.|Z1.04OtherThings]]
You were raised to believe that the strong survive and the weak, sooner or later, will perish. If you wish to persevere in a world that constantly vies figure against figure and soldier against soldier, then that lesson must be learned. That was the entire point of some of your training. To purge the weakness from your body and make you into a formidable foe. You force yourself to look at what remains of Raznith's head, his skull broken and one of his eyes hanging from the socket that it once was tucked into. Half of the flesh that decorated his face has been torn away by ravenous teeth, the assailant resting nearby licking the blood from its chops. Honestly, he is no longer even identifiable. Just another faceless soldier who saw their time in this land brought to an lamentable end. <<include "1.04.1Z">>
Raznith is dead. No matter how many times these words repeat themselves in your head, you don't seem to believe it any more than the last. Raznith, the man who seemed invincible. No one in the tower could beat him, and they tried, sometimes multiple guards at once. The only one who came close to the act was Laurens, but even you could see that it would take at least a few more years of training for him to be on equal footing with the leader. Your breath escapes you as you realize that Khan Zarik was up there by himself, taking Raznith on alone. He had no help, and he was able to, in record time, decapitate the man. Whose presence are you in? Who is this man? <<include "1.04.1Z">>
You clench your eyes closed and try to imagine anything other than Raznith's head. But each time you divert your attention away from it, the setting grows bloody, and a pair of eyes that already seemed dead manages to peer back. You were not close to Raznith, but you did not wish death upon the man, nor did you wish to see him fall in such a way. //Other things//, you repeat to yourself, but there are no other things. There is only this world that Bane had warned you of. This world that wished to rip you apart, and before, it was her alone who had saved you from succumbing to its rancor. Now there is no one. <<include "1.04.1Z">>
One soldier approaches and, with hands raised, lay down their weapon and take a knee before Khan Zarik. "We surrender." "Of course you do," he sighs, looking to his people, "slit their necks." Your senses are assaulted by the screams of the guards as the basilisks take their last breaths from them, soaking the pearl white snow with the acrid scarlet liquid of those who fall. [[“They surrendered!”|Z1.04Surrendered][$zarik +=3]] [[“You're a monster.”|Z1.04Monster][$monster = true]] [[“They will be avenged.”|Z1.04Avenged][$zarik -=3; $avenged = true]] [[“Serves them right.”|Z1.04ServesRight][$zarik -=5]] [[Say nothing.|Z1.04SayNothing][$zarik +=5]]
"They surrendered!" you shout at the man as he nears you. "Yes," he draws out, "and in doing so showed how pathetic they were. They were going to die regardless, but they should have died with their swords in their hands." "They were no longer a threat to you. You could have let them go." He snorts, raising a brow as he looks down at you ready to further explain. And then his face goes blank as if he reminds himself that he is speaking to you and not another. <<include "1.04.2Z">>
<<if $choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Zarik will not forget your words.<</notify>><</if>> "You're a monster," you spit as the man in question approaches. "I'm exactly what this world crafted me to be," he sneers, looking over at you tiredly, "if a monster is what you conclude, then I suppose a monster I am." "You could have -" you start, but he cuts you off. "I could have what? Let them go? Have them run back to that tower and report everything that happened here? No. If you raise a blade against me, then you should find yourself ready to use it until your dying breath." He narrows his eyes as he regards you and then finally glances away as if bored with what he is assessing. <<include "1.04.2Z">>
<<if $choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Zarik will not forget your words.<</notify>><</if>> You summon your full height, attempting to appear as stoic as possible as Khan Zarik looms closer, "they will be avenged." He raises a brow, showing that he heard you, but his eyes still take in the situation surrounding you, "by who? You?" "If I must." He turns his head to peer at you, "I await this day." <<include "1.04.2Z">>
You spit towards one of those that have surrendered, shaking your head, "it serves them right. Raznith and Laurens have taught them better." You said such words aloud, but they are aimed at no one. "The weak will typically bend a knee to those more powerful," Khan Zarik states as he comes by, his eyes following your movement as you move away from the dead body. "That was what I was taught as well," you nod. The corners of his mouth curl upwards for a slight moment before falling back, "yes. But there is a difference between taught and learned." He continues past you. <<include "1.04.2Z">>
You say and do nothing, watching as the basilisks carry out the order of their superior with ease, having done this possibly far too many times to count. You watch as guard after guard goes down, some whose faces are familiar to you and some who you think you may have seen once. There are probably others who you don't see, whose names you actually know. Those you have laughed with and chatted to about your day. Those who have shown even an ounce of compassion when you show up with bruises and fresh scars from torture sessions. Did they deserve to fall this way? Attempting to rescue you? <<include "1.04.2Z">>
"How many fallen?" Khan Zarik questions after motioning for a guard to come to his side. "None, my Khan. Four reported injuries." He closes his eyes and inhales before shouting, "midday still awaits. The foolishness of others will not shift my warning." The group immediately moves forward, and when the previous three guards approach, Khan Zarik raises a hand and shakes his head. <a data-passage="1.04.3Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
He turns to you, "you will walk with me. If you think yourself too weak to walk, Tahjeera here will aid you." He nods to the feline who studies you. You are beginning to wonder if there is anyone here who does not seem to want to kill you with their gaze alone. He walks off, and you follow behind him, albeit at a slow pace, testing his patience and awareness. Your eyes land on the two odd swords that you saw him wielding the other day. You recall how easy he had slain two fighters and still kept you from running off. How he has taken on Raznith by himself. You once believed that Laurens would be able to find you and hold his own against this man. He knows his way around his blade and is proficient in hand-to-hand combat, but your faith in your instructor now teeters. You do not know what to believe anymore. <<if $purpose is "confident">>How are you to escape them unless you use stealth, or luck is on your side? And you are not one to rely on the presence of luck. You are running out of options, feeling more like cornered prey with each passing moment and that feeling is foreign to you.<</if>> Your eyes scan the horizon, desperately hoping to spot the spire of the tower. And there it is, still standing and not as far as you may have imagined. It calls to you, a beacon beckoning you home. [[Run to it. Escape!|Z1.04Escape][$timid -=5]] [[Follow the others.|Z1.04Follow][$timid +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> Your right foot angles itself towards the tower, and before you can over-think your plan or the others can make themselves aware, you dart. As soon as you do, something trips you, and you land face-first into the snow, hearing the sound of those around you chuckling. Glancing behind you, you see the tail of the feline snaking its way back across the snow and thumping against the ground in front of its owner. Khan Zarik stands directly beside it, massaging the cat's neck. "How far did you think you would get?" "Does an answer matter?" you growl. He approaches and yanks you to your feet, <<if $notouchy>>you start to thrash, willing him to let you go, but his hold only tightens.<<else>>you pull back, testing his grip as he tightens his hold.<</if>> "I almost wished to see you run. If only to see how far you could have gotten before that injury reopened and the snow took you." He cocks his head to the side, "can you even get out of those bindings?" <a data-passage="1.04.4Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> You are no fool. With no plan of escape, no real direction, and having just seen them massacre Raznith and his group of soldiers, you do not have many options, even if you are to make it. Raznith's detached head once again comes to mind. And though the rest were not as gruesome, their fates were all the same. Your feet move, but your mind is still on that last thought. The more you repeat it to yourself, the less you wish to accept it. Your whole life, you saw these figures practically as guards. They were beings who were not only untouchable but unreachable in brains and brawn. But death grabbed them as quickly as any other. Each one lying in a pool of their own blood, choking on it. "Smart move," you hear someone say and look up to see Khan Zarik looking at you. "What?" "You are much too easy to read. Your thoughts are clear on your face. But it is nice to see that you have more sense than bravery." He nods in the direction everyone else is walking. "Go." <a data-passage="1.04.4Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
As he had promised before, he walks with you. Choosing to remain silent as the two of you go. The entire group remains so, the only noises coming from the cats that either stop to play in the snow, receiving a fast reprimand from who you believe to be their handler. Or when the felines hiss at each other seemingly out of nowhere. Countless times do your eyes wander over to the man, attempting to answer questions you have neither presented nor thoroughly thought through. He is unlike the other basilisks that surround you. Though similar in basic shapes, his tattoo holds a purple snake that curves around it, and the right side of his face is devoid of any markings. Instead, it bears two long scars that stretch from his forehead to his chin, interrupted only by his beard and irised ivory and purple scales. That is another thing. Everyone's scales are different shades, but none of them hold such a light-hued shade. His the color of snow while everyone else reminds you of the greenery from forests. Every aspect of him feels like a mystery, not one part clear enough for you to make sense of. Bane hardly showed a sweeping amount of emotions, but you know that is more so due to inability. Something killed her long ago, and it took with it all that she was, leaving the tiniest fragment behind to sustain her. That is all to say; you know what emotionally dead looks like. You stare into its eyes regularly. Even Raznith's eyes were devoid of life, and despite having a far more extensive emotional range than Bane, a spark never reentered them. This man, he is not that. You can sense a plethora of emotions hidden beneath the surface but the chances of them ever breaching whatever keeps them under is not so easy to know. A mask. That is the only word that you can think of to describe how this stranger makes you feel. You don't know how he goes about putting it on or what causes him to remove it, but you have a feeling that years of training and this is what Laurens wanted out of you. [[And for that, you are jealous of this man's mastery.|Z1.04Anger][$cold +=5; $anger +=5]] [[You feel sorry for him. And sorry for you.|Z1.04Sad][$cold -=5; $sad +=5]] [[You don't know what to feel.|Z1.04Numb][$numb +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cold ++</span><</if>> He seems no older than you. Perhaps a few years at best, and yet he's able to master something that still rules you. <<if $numb gt $anger and $numb gt $sad>>Even though your heart numbs that which naturally guides it, it feels like a hole instead of a well-placed veil. As if something seizes your emotions and, instead of masking them, erases them completely. Perhaps to Laurens, there is little difference. But to you, it is clear. This man is proof that you can indeed shield and not destroy, but you are just as clueless as before.<<else>>Emotions that you still wrestle with, and each match is shown so clearly on your face. You are its puppet, and despite how much you wish to be free of its hold, you doubt you ever will.<</if>> <<include "1.05Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Warm ++</span><</if>> Despite now knowing that this is what you are to turn into, you feel sorry for not only yourself but for him as well. How much pain did he have to endure to properly master this? Who watched him day and night to see to it that he successfully eliminated his emotions from the public eye? You aren't sure how much older this man is to you, believing it to be a few years at most. But he could have been born into this, training as a babe. You shiver. That is not a thought you wish to think about either. <<include "1.05Z">>
You are neither jealous nor pitying the man and what your intended future will hold. Your life was never one of certainty, but now it feels even less so. Everything you believe in had been erased or scratched out. And that is as much as you wish to think about it. <<include "1.05Z">>
"What do you need of me?" you blurt, the silence howling at your audacity as it slowly creeps away, never straying too far. Even your mind seems to raise a brow, telling you to simply walk and nothing more. Initially, he doesn't answer, continuing to walk, and if his face is anything to go off of, he hasn't heard you. They seem inclined to talk with their hands, and though you don't know the language, you use actions instead of words to get his attention. "Do not make a fool of yourself," he warns right as you begin raising your hand, "I heard you." "Then why didn't you answer." "You seem to be under some odd impression that I must." "It would be appreciated." "And so would silence." <<if $warm >=50>>\ "We can make this a learning experience for both of us. You ask me questions, and I ask you some." "You vastly overestimate your importance to me and my care. Rescuing you was a mission, no more and no less." "Who sent you? Your superiors?" Khan Zarik closes his eyes and mumbles something under his breath before peering at you, "ask." <<else>>\ "I simply want an answer to a question that I don't think is that difficult to answer. Will you supply it or not?" "Will you return to silence after you get your answers?" "I will." "Then ask." <</if>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q1")>>“Who sent you and why?”<<else>>[[“Who sent you and why?”|Z1.05Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>>
"Who sent you and why?" <<if $warm >=50>>"You guessed correctly before. My superiors.<<else>>"My superiors.<</if>> If you're asking who sent them, that would be your own house." "My house?" "House Phoenix," he continues, "a letter was sent to every house asking for their cooperation in finding you." "But my parents care none for me. And why now? After all this time?" "These are questions you should be asking them," he points out, "they promised a boon, your hand in marriage. House Basilisk wishes to collect on that." [[“I refuse.”|Z1.05Q1.1][$trouble +=2]] [[“Do I have no say?”|Z1.05Q1.2]] [[“… I see.”|Z1.05Q1.3][$trouble -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hellion ++</span><</if>> You snort, refusing to believe the word that you had just heard. "I refuse. I am not some object for you and your House to use." "That, whether you like it or not, is exactly what you are." "I will not marry anyone," you restate, this time far more firmly. He shrugs and even has the gall to yawn, "refuse then. I hardly think your opinion matters in the proceedings." <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"Do I get no say in who I give my hand to?" "Rarely do any of us get a say in what happens to us." Though he is simply informing you, your anger towards this man seems to increase. You move quickly to cut him off, ignoring the growl that his cat sends you. "And if I decline?" He shrugs, "then you decline. I hardly think your opinion matters in the proceedings." <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Legate ++</span><</if>> "I … I see. So my life is to be handled by strangers." "Was it not already?" he questions, raising an interested brow. "I knew them." "Ah," he snaps and nods his head, "so as long as you know them, then handing your life over is not as bothersome. I am more than sure you will get to know whoever chooses to wed you as well." <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"I've heard tales of House Basilisk. Many consider them monsters and their ideals old and dangersome." "Did I hear a question in that? Or are you simply stating now?" "I take it that you don't think there to be an issue with your culture." "I take it that you think there should be." You seek to respond when he stops you, "you claim to hear stories and tales and believe that is enough to judge an entire people? I think little to nothing of you, Phoenix, but I suppose that judgmental can be the one thing." <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q1")>>“Who sent you and why?”<<else>>[[“Who sent you and why?”|Z1.05Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"Why do you all speak with your hands? Is that some kind of language, or is it something else? Code, perhaps?" He hums, "so you have never heard of fragmented Jawsīc before. Well, you may wish to learn it soon. You will be surrounded by those who speak it more so than your vocal alternative." "But why? Is it easier than simply speaking it?" "Majority of Basilisks are born deaf, so yes. It is easier." He points to his ear at what you thought to be an earring. "It is a linguistic device that allows us to hear. All of those you will be dealing with will have one, but you may still wish to learn the language." "Can you teach me?" "No." He ends that line of questioning, and you find yourself thinking of Laurens. He possessed no device, not from what you could recall. Was he born with the ability to hear, or was there something else? <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q1")>>“Who sent you and why?”<<else>>[[“Who sent you and why?”|Z1.05Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"Who are you?" He gazes over at you, and before he can question why you asked the same question twice, you shake your head, "I mean, who are you in all of this. Why would they send you and not someone else? You said you're a warlord; that sounds important." "And you don't think your retrieval is important?" His question causes you to pause and consider. [[“I have no idea what I am?”|Z1.05Q4.1]] [[“Of course I do.”|Z1.05Q4.2][$zarik -=2]] [[“More so strategic.”|Z1.05Q4.3][$zarik +=2]]
"I don't know what I am to this world anymore. I haven't had an idea for quite some time." You stiffen, preparing yourself for some kind of verbal lashing or a slap to indicate that you said something disrespectful. But Zarik hasn't even stopped to contemplate your words, continuing on without a care. <<include "ZQ4.4">>
"Of course I do," you snort, raising your chin, "there were at least four houses at the tower searching for me. I may not agree with it, but my importance is clear." "You're not blind at least," Khan Zarik yawns. <<include "ZQ4.4">>
"Less important and more so a strategic or calculated move. I'm sure every house has its own reasons for coming after me. The real question is why and if you being the winner will deter them." The man pauses and glances at you, a shine appearing in his eyes before he faces forward once again. <<include "ZQ4.4">>
"The correct answer." Only when the conversation ends that you realize he had changed the subject, ultimately moving the focus from himself to you. Perhaps it should dissuade you, warn you that this man was a veiled canvas that did not wish to show the world what rests underneath. But you find yourself wanting to unveil it, to gaze over the artistry and color. To make up your own mind. And then figure out if you can use that to your own advantage or something else. <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q1")>>“Who sent you and why?”<<else>>[[“Who sent you and why?”|Z1.05Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"Where are we headed?" "To Basilisk territory. The Banji Wetlands, to be far more specific." You have seen a map of Treces, but you don't recall knowing where that area is. There is the surrounding area, the Garami Mountains. Then the tundra woodlands rest all around and carry on for quite some time until you reach the mesas where the griffins roam. You try to envision more of the map and get a general idea of where you are headed. To the south of the mesas is an expanse of wetlands and jungle. The home of the basilisks. A landscape consisting of green feels like some unrealistic fairytale told to you to better help you sleep, describing that of a faraway land that you have no hope of seeing. <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q1")>>“Who sent you and why?”<<else>>[[“Who sent you and why?”|Z1.05Q1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q2")>>“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”<<else>>[[“I've heard tales of House Basilisk.”|Z1.05Q2][$culturerumors = true]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q3")>>“Why do you speak with your hands?”<<else>>[[“Why do you speak with your hands?”|Z1.05Q3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q4")>>“Who are you?”<<else>>[[“Who are you?”|Z1.05Q4]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z1.05Q5")>>“Where do you live?”<<else>>[[“Where do you live?”|Z1.05Q5]]<</if>> [[No more questions.|1.06Z]]
"Khan Zarik," someone shouts, keeping you from asking any further questions. "Tahjeera, watch over our guest." You frown, but Khan Zarik has already walked off, leaving you with the annoyed feline that seems just as upset about this order as you. With nothing better to do with your time, you examine the feline. <<if $nature >=10>>You're pretty sure he is a banji leopard, an interesting sub-species native to the wetlands. They are larger than a typical leopard, and though you aren't sure, you want to say they beat the size of a jaguar as well. Their coat pattern is different, and one of the apparent differences is that their spots are luminescent and they possess retractable quills along their back. That is the extent of your knowledge, the book you have on them is to the point, and due to you never believing you will see one, you haven't exactly taken time to study them.<</if>> Tahjeera is a dark charcoal grey with gold and black spots, and as if he too needs to take a page out of his companion's book, he has a single paw and a decently sized spot near his snout that is a light beige, contrasting wildly with the rest of his appearance. All in all, he is a handsome feline. Though his attitude would otherwise make you change your mind. [[Poke his tail.|Z1.06Tail]] [[Attempt to pet him.|Z1.06AttemptPet]] [[Leave him be.|Z1.06LeaveHimBe]]
With a sneaky smirk, you lean forward, behaving as if you are stretching when you instead poke his tail. Thankfully, your instincts are faster than the average person's, and you move out of the cat's striking zone. He hisses in warning to you, and you decide not to mess with him further. Next, he'll pounce on you, and how can you possibly hope to win against a cat of his size? The two of you sit in silence until Khan Zarik returns, motioning for you to again follow like before. <<include "1.06.1Z">>
"You're not as rude as you let on, right?" you question, slowly extending your hand towards him. It is not until your hand is hovering over his snout that his quills shoot straight up and his ears flatten against his head. Retracting your hand, you pout, and he, in turn, relaxes. The two of you sit in silence until Khan Zarik returns, motioning for you to again follow like before. <<include "1.06.1Z">>
You glance at him but do nothing more. He has shown himself to not only dislike you but also be aggressive. It is wise to not provoke him further. This time, you keep your thoughts quiet, not wishing to think about the inevitable and the status of the tower and those who live within. Thinking about it as often as you do will neither resurrect them nor cause them to appear in front of you. You should redirect your focus to your current dilemma. These thoughts don't travel far when Khan Zarik returns, motioning for you to again follow like before. <<include "1.06.1Z">>
"I retract my comment from earlier," he states once he is back at your side and walking, "I do have one question to ask you." "Which is?" "What were you doing in that tower?" "Why the sudden curiosity?" "I had pondered it but was fine with never receiving an answer. After meeting that dragon soldier of yours, I am now even more curious." Something within tells you that he is dancing around the actual reason, giving you a vague one to sate your curiosities. [[“It was where I was raised.”|Z1.06Raised]] [[“Should have asked one of those you killed.”|Z1.06AskTheDead]] [[Refuse to tell him.|Z1.06RefuseToTell]]
"It was where I was raised and trained." "Trained?" he questions, but you are unable to figure out if his question is born from amusement or genuine interest. He continues on, "a fort with a trained militia, a goal, and a stolen heir -" "I was not stolen. I was saved," you correct. "The letter would say differently." "You shouldn't believe everything you read." He sneers, "true. But you should also not believe everything that is said to you." He ends the conversation there. <<include "1.06.2Z">>
"You should have asked one of the soldiers that you killed if you truly wanted an answer." "You speak this as if I wouldn't have killed them immediately after receiving said answer," he points out, "it's no trouble. If this tower continues to be of interest, then I'll find out its importance." You frown, not liking the cockiness that you hear in his voice. But neither he nor you say anything more. <<include "1.06.2Z">>
You remain quiet. He would receive no answer out of you. If your lack of a response bothers him, he doesn't show it. He does such an excellent job of this that you even begin to wonder if he hadn't just been speaking aloud earlier before you interjected in. You shake that thought from your head. You are fine with this. You'd rather silence than him attempting to get more out of you anyway. <<include "1.06.2Z">>
You let out a mellow sigh that quickly shifts into a growl of pain. Your leg seems to have had enough, and you practically feel it opening as you press down. You grit your teeth and rock back and forth, focus on the pain and then expel it. You've done such a thing so many times in the past that it should be second nature now. It feels like fire shoots through your chest, shifting into electricity but yet again, you silence that as well. "Stay still," Khan Zarik mumbles, kneeling before you and pushing your pants leg up. "What are you -," you start to question when he roughly pushes his finger into your forehead, causing you to fall back into the soft snow. "I said stay still. Your wound reopened." [[“I'll be fine.”|Z1.06Fine]] [[“It hurts …”|Z1.06Hurts]] [[Grit your teeth and move him away.|Z1.06MoveHimAway]]
"Yes, but I'll be fine. I don't need your help," you tell him, not wishing for him to stay. One of your biggest pet peeves is allowing others to see your pain. "This is no minor wound," he points out, eyebrow raised as he regards you, "you will not be fine." You continue to shoo him away, bringing your leg back to your body and warning him not to come closer. The next attempt will see him kicked. <<include "1.06.3Z">>
You don't have the stomach to lie or mollify some ego that is already so badly damaged. "It hurts," you admit, squeezing your eyes shut and wishing for the pain to disappear. His gaze rises to meet your eyes, studying you, attempting to make sense of something, but even you can't figure out what. "How much?" The words come to mind, but you bite your tongue on instinct. Laurens gazes down at you, daring you to answer. You can see his hand twitch, ready to deliver a swift punishment if you believe yourself either so brave to defy him or too stupid to realize what the near future holds. "I'm fine," you end up saying, and as if to ridicule you for that response, your leg descends into another abhorrent spasm. <<include "1.06.3Z">>
You need to move away, to handle this yourself like you've done so many times in the past. Fighting through the pain, you bring your aching leg closer to your body and keep your hand out to ward off Khan Zarik's attempts to move closer. He catches on quickly and regards you. "You wish to leave the wound opened?" "I wish for you to move. I can handle myself." <<include "1.06.3Z">>
The man before you remains quiet for a second or so longer before rising, narrowing his eyes, "you are a silly and odd creature." He turns and begins to walk away, "and that is not meant as a compliment." You watch him go, taking a moment to center yourself and calm your breathing. The pain is lessening, but that is because you aren't walking on it. As soon as you stand, it will come traipsing back, seeking to mock you. [[Call Zarik for help.|Z1.06CallZarik][$kindeyes = true]] [[Go to Tahjeera.|Z1.06Tahjeera]] [[Power through this.|Z1.06PowerThrough]]
"Zarik! Wait." He stops but doesn't turn to face you. Despite your brain warning you not to say the following words, you do so anyway. No alternative is better. "I need help." He neither turns to come back for you nor does he say anything. He looks off to the side before continuing to walk. Anger and bewilderment seize you for a minute before a guard comes to your side, this one, unlike the others. The first thing you notice about him are his soft seafoam and yellow eyes, the inner tone representing the confusing mix of green, grey, and blue while the outer is a noteworthy pale yellow. Perhaps his eyes are so captivating due to the black strip that crosses the bridge of his nose, stretching from one eye to the other. He stretches his hand out to you, and after a moment of consideration, you take it. The both of you straighten up. He raises his brows and look you over, gazing back into your eyes as if waiting for something. You hobble forward, not understanding what the hulking man is waiting for but not wanting to stand there under what feels like a scrutinizing gaze. He doesn't give you support, and you don't ask for it. Soon, he simply walks away, shrugging his shoulders and leaving you confused. You silence the pain as much as you can as you limp forward. All of the others are yards in front of you, heading towards a set of buildings that label it as the village. You have finally made it. <a data-passage="1.07Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You recall what Khan Zarik said earlier when he first told you that you would be stuck with him as your babysitter. And as if remembering as well, the leopard lies nearby, watching you with a disinterested look that almost matches his master's. "Mind helping me out?" you growl, pushing yourself up to your knees but then taking a minute to breathe. Tahjeera simply yawns, and you internally growl. You continue making your way towards the feline until finally, you're able to drape yourself across his back. He gets to his feet, and you re-situate yourself, balancing most of your weight on the beast. One step after another, and the two of you manage to work out an awkward pace that feels quite silly. But at least you are now moving. All of the others are yards in front of you, heading towards a set of buildings that label it as the village. You have finally made it. <a data-passage="1.07Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You can do this. You've been through worse things, much worse. You remember when your leg was practically broken, and those dreaded stairs were resting before you. The time you cut both of your feet severely and every step felt like it was taking a piece of your soul. A cut in your leg was nothing, and it would remain as nothing. An injury would not see you suffering. You mentally shout at yourself as you pick yourself up, chasing the pain from your body in any way you could. Then finally, you were on your feet, albeit unsteadily, but you did not fall. Now … to walk. Taking one step at a time, you make your way forward, grunting and fighting the pain every step of the way. The more you walk, the more the pain begins to vanish until it was placed at the back of your head. Now unimportant. All of the others are yards in front of you, heading towards a set of buildings that label it as the village. You have finally made it. <a data-passage="1.07Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The mood of the village is neither friendly nor hostile. Those that you pass by stare on, whispering to one another in an attempt to learn why a force such as this has just entered. You ponder if they heard anything from the fort. If servants or guards made it here and informed them of the houses in the area. Some head inside, finding that they would rather face whatever is to come amongst their belongings and with a wooden wall between them and the outsiders. But the majority go about their business, showing interest but not letting the soldiers change what needs to be done. Now that you are here, you need to figure out what to do next. If you don't soon, then you'll be stuck with the basilisks. Technically you don't even know this area, but you know it better than any jungle. As you wander deeper into the village, you truly realize that this is the first time you've been in an area such as this after so many years. You take to gazing around. Your attention is drawn from one sight to the next as vendors scream for your attention, but then music and laughter grace your ears and an assortment of smells. "Phoenix." You blink and look to see Ari Baz standing in front of you with a severe look in his eyes. And thus, the magic of the village disappears. You are once again $name $surname, the forgotten and abandoned phoenix who just watched all they have get destroyed and found themselves in the hands of strangers. He grabs the bindings at your wrist and begins to undo them. "Come with me. Khan Zarik wishes to have the local shaman take a look at your leg." He turns his back to you and heads towards a hut. You wobble after him. <a data-passage="1.07.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The inside of the hut is much warmer than the outside, as well as cluttered. The hut's only source of light is that of the few windows that line the walls. Bowls with unknown remedies rest in odd places, burning while others seem to just be sitting idly. A collection of herbs hang from the ceiling, and on a large shelf, a few books, jars, and what you suppose are insects. The hut is quiet. The only noise is that of a crackling fire that stews something with an earthy fragrance. Two guards stand next to a wizened old man, his face showing annoyance and his body tense. "Here is your patient," Ari Baz introduces. "See <<if $injury_slicedarm>>to the wounds along ?her_ arm and leg.<<else>>to ?her_ leg wound.<</if>>" "Let's get this over with so you and your friends can get out of my hut," he grumbles, grabbing a thick roll of bandage as well as some herbs and bowls. He continues to protest your presence as he points you to a chair, and you take a seat. He sits on the floor and begins to grind up some of the herbs, using a thick stone-like stick to grate them into what soon becomes a paste. [[“What are you doing?”|Z1.07Questioning][$nature +=5]] [[Remain sitting there.|Z1.07SitThere]] [[Think about an escape.|Z1.07EscapePlan][$action -=3]]
"What are you doing?" you question, leaning forward to watch him closer. "What?" he growls, "you never heard of grinding?" Your silence gives him the answer, and he shakes his head, mumbling something about you living under a rock or being hit by one; you aren't sure which. He shows the bowl to you, "this is a mortar and pestle. You put the herbs in here and use the pestle to grind them." "But how did you make a paste from that?" "You can do a lot with this. The easiest way to make a poultice or salve. Just make sure you have something like beeswax for the salve. You need something that combines everything in." "And what plants did you add?" "It's all a mix of honey, turmeric, aloe vera, and yarrow. Turmeric and yarrow have anti-inflammatory properties. Honey fights infection. And just a bit of aloe vera, too much will irritate the wound." For a while, the man looks at peace. As if speaking about the plants and their properties caused him to forget his crabbiness from earlier. He catches your eye and nods. <<include "1.07.2Z">>
You sit there patiently, watching the shaman as he prepares, but your mind is drifting. On the one hand, it feels like you've been walking for more than just a day. That the fall of the tower hadn't just happened yesterday. On the other, the ache is so intense and fresh that it feels like it has all happened in a matter of minutes. The tower, your kidnap, and then Raznith's death. It feels odd to finally be sitting somewhere, not moving or experiencing something else life-altering. <<include "1.07.2Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> As the old man works, you gaze around his hut for potential escapes. The biggest issue is, of course, Ari Baz and the two guards that seem unlikely to move from their post. You only need them to wait outside. If you can manage that much, you can possibly figure out a way to get out of this. Four windows as far as you can see, one automatically being eliminated due to it residing in the front of the shop. The other is near to where you sit, and the other two are on the parallel side. Any of those three can work, but what will work even better is a back door. You wish to question the man, but before that can be done, you must find a way to get rid of your bodyguards. <<include "1.07.2Z">>
You hiss as the shaman presses onto your wound, applying whatever salve he just concocted onto it. Sparing a glance at the three who stand there, you notice that one of the guards left, leaving only Ari Baz and the one guard behind. Ari Baz seems to be Khan Zarik's second in command. Getting him to abandon his post will probably prove wholly impossible. <<if $injury_slicedarm>>While you sit in thought, the shaman continues to clean and dress your leg wound and then the one along your arm. Finally he gets to his feet and snaps at Ari Baz.<<else>>Sitting in thought, the shaman continues to clean and dress your wound before finally getting to his feet and snapping at Ari Baz.<</if>> "There. I'm done. Now get out of my home. And you," he turns to you, and the harshness in his face vanishes for a moment, "you have my condolences." "On what?" you question. "Whatever terminal illness possesses you," he answers, already making his way towards a room towards the back of his home. <a data-passage="1.07.3Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"What?!" you shout, having to pause as you fight a wave of dizziness. You have no idea what he is speaking of, but something deep within you feels unsurprised. As if you knew this is coming. "You didn't know?" he questions, narrowing his eyes. "Can you fix it?" Ari Baz inquires, coming to a stop at your side. "No," he hisses but rethinks the crudity in his voice when Ari Baz takes a threatening step towards him. "Look, I can't. I sensed it because it's of arcane nature." "Meaning what?" he continues to ask. You head to your previous seat and close your eyes, fighting off the nausea that overcomes you. Despite how many times you try and gather yourself, reminding yourself that you aren't alone, nothing happens. The ability to breathe is becoming more of a hassle, deep and harsh intakes being all you can manage. The men's voices begin to fade out, and the once dark colors of the shaman's hut starts to shift, merging until everything is a blurry black. You hear words here and there, no longer able to discern the different voices. You hear talk of curses and spirits. Something about this being natural and then the word gods. <<if $notouchy>>Someone grabs your hand, and you hiss as you snatch it back, falling out of the chair but making it no further than that. Whoever grabs you does so and pulls you out of the hut and back outside.<<else>>Someone grabs you and yanks you to your feet, dragging you out of the hut and back outside.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.07.4Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The feeling of the snow falling and lightly landing on your face brings back some of your awareness. The chill stinging your cheeks does the rest. Slowly, your senses come back, and the first thing you see is Ari Baz whispering to Khan Zarik. "What's going to happen to me?" you question, moving forward despite the stiffness in your legs, "what did the shaman say?" Zarik peers at you, "you knew nothing about this?" [[Be honest.|Z1.07HonestyThatPolicy][$zarik +=2]] [[Lie.|Z1.07LieToMe]] [[Be clever.|Z1.07CleverGirl][$zarik -=2]]
"I know that there is a curse that plagues my blood but even that I am not entirely clear with. I'm only knowledgeable about a few things that it has caused. Death was never one that I was aware of." Khan Zarik hums and turns his attention back to Ari Baz. <<include "1.07.5Z">>
"I didn't think there was anything wrong with me at all. This is all news to me." He rolls his eyes and nods to my fingers, "your tell." "What?" "When you lie, you have a tell. Many do." He turns his attention to Ari Baz, conveniently leaving out whatever this so-called tell is. <<include "1.07.5Z">>
You know what he is referring to, but he doesn't need to know that, and you have your doubts that he will answer your previous question. But it's fine. Two can play this game. "Know what?" you ask, still behaving as if you are still trying to ground yourself in reality, "what did he say?" Ari Baz opens his mouth to answer, but Khan Zarik stops him, his eyes never leaving yours. They seem to glimmer with some understanding that causes you to want to shift in place. You are beginning to hate his expressions, each and every one of them. <<include "1.07.5Z">>
"Is that all the shaman had to say?" "Yes. He knew nothing more and certainly didn't know how to help." Ari Baz pauses, observing Khan Zarik's face before nodding his head as if knowing what is to come next, "what is your command?" Zarik narrows his eyes, a moment of consideration reflecting in his eyes before gazing from you to the hut that the shaman is in. "Kill him." [[Stop them.|Z1.07StopThem]] [[Question him.|Z1.07Question]] [[Do nothing.|Z1.07Nothing]]
"What? No! He did nothing wrong. You would kill an innocent man?" You move to intercept the guard that approaches the hut, but Ari Baz grabs you. <<if $notouchy>>"Stop touching me," you yell at him, biting your tongue a minute later. Both him and Khan Zarik stare at you, but at least he doesn't attempt to grab you again.<<else>>"Yes," Khan Zarik simply replies.<</if>> You flinch as the sounds of the shaman yelling at someone infiltrate your ears, followed by his pleas. The clatter of wooden bowls falling onto the ground and glass breaking is next. Silence trails close behind, and the guard leaves the house, wiping the remaining blood from his weapon before securing it. <<include "1.08Z">>
You are unsure if he will reply, but curiosity scratches the back of your throat, and you soon open your mouth, unable to restrain it. "Why?" "His knowledge made him a liability," the leader answers, continuing to stare on as the guard enters the hut. "I have no time for those who know too much." You hear the shaman yell out. Those yells shifting into pleas, but you can imagine that no mercy is granted to him. The sounds of glass breaking and wooden bowls hitting the floor join his grunts. "You speak as if you can silence everyone." The guard exits the house, wiping his still bloody sword with a rag as he joins his companions. "Perhaps not," Khan Zarik admits, starting to turn, "but I like to think that the majority will do just fine." <<include "1.08Z">>
You make sure that your face is blank as the guard enters the hut to fulfill Khan Zarik's wishes. You don't flinch or shy away from the yells of the shaman, nor do you even blink when they shift to pleas. Glass breaks and wooden bowls hit the floor. Your final thought, as the guard leaves the house, wiping blood from his weapon with a rag, is that you very well may be next. Not due to an order, but to a curse you now doubt you understand. <<include "1.08Z">>
"Take what you can find from the hut," Khan Zarik orders some soldiers and then turns his attention to Ari Baz, "we head to the markets. Send the rest of the group to the outskirts to prepare to leave. As soon as we are done, I want this irrelevant village to be forgotten." "Understood. And the phoenix?" "Bind ?her again. For now, Ari Baz, you shall watch ?her." Ari Baz's neutral expression turns to dread, but he nods his head and approaches you without questioning his superior. "Let's get this over with," he grumbles, pulling out the rope. Half of you wishes to be stubborn and make his task that much harder, but you refrain from doing such a thing. <<if $interfere>>Khan Zarik's previous interference coming to mind, and you do not wish to be humiliated yet again.<<else>>It is better to not put yourself on Khan Zarik's or Ari Baz's bad side.<</if>> <a data-passage="1.08.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Once he binds your wrists back up, you follow him and the others into the markets. You allow yourself a moment to gaze around, finding each sight and sound to grab your interest. The delicious smells of pastries and sweets make their way to your nose, and the colorful fabrics that hang on display grab your eye. The true downside is that you can not participate and explore any of what you saw. You are a prisoner<<if $interfere is false>> or in Khan Zarik's words, 'a guest.'<<else>>.<</if>> Ari Baz approaches one stand, untying a pouch from his belt and discussing something with the merchant. "$name!" you hear a familiar voice shout, and something reaches out and snatches you by the arm. You almost fall, but Laurens keeps you steady, pulling you after him as he attempts to lose your captors. "You're lucky I found you," you hear him grumble, "I doubt you would've survived long on your own. Come, we'll head -" "Release the heir," Khan Zarik orders. Laurens' grip on your arm tightens as he yanks you closer, turning and pulling his sword free from his scabbard with his free hand. Though you are no longer able to see his face, his grasp wavers. If words are exchanged, you do not hear them as you stare intently at the area his hand still makes contact with your skin. Have you ever seen Laurens tremble? You believed him to be fearless, a predator amongst mutuals of lesser status or at least those who aspire to be him. "You have got to be shitting me. I was at least hoping for the dragons. Tell me, why do the basilisks care about an abandoned heir?" Khan Zarik takes a step forward, causing Laurens to take one back, his weapon never wavering. Though he lets you go, he keeps you safely hidden behind him. <a data-passage="1.08.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Tell me why a defective basilisk cares about some abandoned heir." They circle around each other, Laurens examining every twitch with a critical eye while Khan Zarik still refuses to grab his weapons. You take note of how his soldiers do not press forward, none seem worried, and all appear quite bored at what transpires. You have seen Laurens fight but never for his life, and you know there is a difference between sparring those of a friendly nature and doing all that you can to see the following day. Khan Zarik, without any trouble, dispatches two charging soldiers and utilizes both magic and weaponry. He killed Raznith on his own and in hardly any time. Laurens doesn't have any magic, and though he is more than proficient with his weapon and hand to hand, you have to wonder if that is enough. Again, Laurens grip on you tightens, "I see you're a Khan." "Do not have me repeat myself. The phoenix is coming with me, and you'll accept a painless death, as the code decrees." At long last, Laurens releases you, charging towards Zarik, who dodges at the last minute, grabbing his blade. Whether Laurens can win this or not, you don't know, but you don't wish to stand here and find out. [[Get between them.|1.08.3Z]] [[Yell for them to stop.|1.08.3Z]] [[Get out of there.|1.08.3Z]]
You prepare yourself when a wave of nausea and pain collide into one and topples everything around you. Your vision fading in and out, your senses heightening but not in the way you suspect. Everything becomes too sensitive. The soft snow underneath your hand feels like it may cut you, and the wind slices your cheeks. The different smells of the small village are nauseating, and each inhalation sees you closer to vomiting. Pain shoots from your chest, vibrating, then dimming, and then starting the cycle up anew. And then all of it stops, and you're pulled down into an abyss. <a data-passage="Chapter Two: Time"><img src="images/zarik_ch2.png" alt="Chapter Two: Time" height="220px" width="400" style="float:center"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<unset $interfere>> <<set $injury_palm = false; $suntalk_4 to 0; $unknown = false; $nnc = false; $areaknown = false; $visit to 0>> <<include "stattamer">> <<playlist "ambient" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ <<if $purpose is "lost">>\ You blink and find the sky overhead. There are no clouds in sight. Just a stark blue and a dazzling orange engaged in warfare over whose brilliance will control the skies. Sitting up, you pause and try to figure out your surroundings. You had been in the village, Ari Baz taking you from one merchant stall to the next. And then … Laurens! He was alive and had found you. But then Khan Zarik was not far behind. The two were facing off, and then … you can't remember what follows this. But this was obviously not where all this had taken place. Instead of the village, you gaze at towering walls of stone. Getting to your feet, you allow them to guide you down path after path and turn after turn. There are even moments where that turn leads to two or three, and you must decide which is the best. Despite believing you are making progress, you still wander. Each turn feels wrong, and every dead-end has you breathing out a breath of frustration and anxiety. Where were you, and would you ever leave this place? This maze!? "I wished to give you something much simpler," a voice announces from above. You glance up to see a man sitting on top of the stone wall, his legs dangling lazily over the side. Man … no, that feels wrong, like referring to a grand king as a boy or a tree as a plant. The figure that now stands before you is nothing less than a godly figure. Your brain fails to come up with any other solution. He wears but a simple robe that displays not only his gleaming golden muscles but also the many scars that have affixed themselves to him and claimed that patch of skin, theirs. His long crimson hair drifts on a calming current that calms your racing heart. While intense eyes that appear like fireballs give him a dangerous, spirited demeanor. He exudes the combined idea of both fire and earth. Chaotic nature brought under control, reigned in by his hand alone. He finishes his previous sentence, motioning to your surroundings, "but I came to you, and I cannot influence everything." <<elseif $purpose is "confident">>\ The sun streams down on your back, waking your senses and bringing you back from whatever happened before. Laurens! He was alive and had found you. But then Khan Zarik was not far behind. The two were facing off, and then … you can't remember what follows this. But this was obviously not where all this had taken place. Instead, you were back at the tower. But then, there lies the problem - the sun never shines over the tower. Your awareness screams for you to watch out, and you turn around just in time to catch the blade that is thrown towards you. You rotate it, gazing at it as if it should be familiar, but it is not. Rarely did those of the tower let you practice with blades, their reasoning their own. Your attention focuses on the man that draws near, though using man to refer to the being in front of you seemed ludicrous. The figure now standing before you is nothing less than a godly figure. Your brain fails to come up with any other solution. He wears but a simple robe that displays not only his gleaming golden muscles but also the many scars that have affixed themselves to him and claimed that patch of skin, theirs. His long crimson hair drifts on a calming current that calms your racing heart. While intense eyes that appear like fireballs give him a dangerous, spirited demeanor. He exudes the combined idea of both fire and earth. Chaotic nature brought under control, reigned in by his hand alone. <<else>>\ Your senses spring to life, and you suddenly stumble forward. You manage to catch yourself at the last minute, finding the air far too hard to breathe in. Gazing around, you find yourself standing on the top of a mountain, a small barren stretch of rock directly underneath your feet. It overlooks a mesmerizing field of green with rivers meandering through. You breathe in the lush smell of grass, the sharp, sweet smell assaulting your nose, and though it's intense, it fills you with a joy you never believed you would experience. But then the biggest question of them all comes to mind. How did you get here? And where even is here? Eyes closed, you try to remember what led you to this. You were in the village near the tower … Laurens! He was alive and had found you. But then Khan Zarik was not far behind. The two were facing off, and then … you can't remember what follows this. "Where am I?" you whisper under your breath. "Where your heart wishes it could be." You turn to see a man a few feet away. No. No, referring to the being in front of you as a man seemed ludicrous. The figure now standing before you is nothing less than a godly figure. Your brain fails to come up with any other solution. He wears but a simple robe that displays not only his gleaming golden muscles but also the many scars that have affixed themselves to him and claimed that patch of skin, theirs. His long crimson hair drifts on a calming current that calms your racing heart. While intense eyes that appear like fireballs give him a dangerous, spirited demeanor. He exudes the combined idea of both fire and earth. Chaotic nature brought under control, reigned in by his hand alone. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.01Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"The Great <<link 'High God Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods and twin brother to Moon. He was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Sun is playful and intelligent with a wild soul and a logical outlook on how things work. Despite possessing a curious personality, he believes the laws of engagement and separation must be practiced and is known to enforce them. He finds himself engaged with the forming stories, frequently asking Fate for the tales of mortals and then watching as the paths expand before them.<</dialog>><</link>>." You are unsure what to do. To bow or drop to your knee. Should you even gaze upon him? <<if $purpose is "lost">>\ "Titles are fine, but just Sun will do." He narrows his eyes on you, "I am curious. Will you be our guide out of this maze?" He bows, inviting you to take on the title more than inquiring if it is possible. "Do you know how far we are from the beginning or end?" He shakes his head with a small smile, "this maze is your construction. My only contribution is the sky." "My construction? How?" You are about to say more when your heart falters due to your next thought. "Am I dead?" He is quiet for a moment longer, observing you before shaking his head, "no. But the future is not as kind." <<elseif $purpose is "confident">>\ "Titles are fine, but just Sun will do." He nods at the sword that you now wield, "I have seen much. Let us test your skill." He moves in with a simple attack, and you deflect it with ease. "You have seen much?" He attacks again, a similar dance but his movements carry him to your left, causing you to sidestep to elude him. If he does manage to land a hit, what will that mean for you? What is this place? "Where are we?" "You do not recognize it?" he questions with a raised brow, quickly blocking the attack that you attempt. Your knowledge of swordsmanship iss nearing its end. "I do. But I'm obviously not really here." Your heart falters as the following thought plants itself in the spotlight. "Am I dead?" His actions do not fall through, and instead, he lowers his blade, "no. But the future is not as kind." <<else>>\ "Titles are fine, but just Sun will do." He looks past you and out to where the distant horizon lies, "what does your heart say, right now?" "To go to that horizon," you answer immediately, staring at it, not minding the sadness that overtakes you. Your heart dips lower as you continue to stare on. Everything feels too peaceful and serene. You whisper your fears, "am I dead?" He gazes out as well and sighs, "no. But your future is not a bright one." <</if>>\ You frown, "what do you mean?" He holds up his wrist where you see a tight binding rope. The longer you stare, the more you even believe to see it pulse. "You, my phoenix, are now on a time limit. Long ago, before you were even a thought by parents not yet born, a vindictive woman who had nothing left to lose placed a curse upon your people." [[“The curse!”|Z2.01Curse]] [[“My people? The Phoenix?”|Z2.01Phoenix]]
"The curse! Bane told me about it, but I didn't think it involved the gods." You see his entire body stiffen, the bandage flaring for a second before he speaks. "On most occasions, you would be correct. The majority of curses are simply for petty revenge or stretch no further than a small group of affected people or one generation. But there are a few who go farther. They give their entire essence away to enact what we refer to as a divine curse. These curses are the strongest of its kind and can only be undone when the conditions of said curse are met." He closes his eyes, scratching the hair along his chin in disgust, "they are a pain." He again holds up his hand, "and are a constant reminder as they bind us to the curse." "Why go that far? Besides angering the gods, I fail to see what one accomplishes." "They accomplish what a regular curse may not. Find yourself a powerful witch or a loophole, and the curse can be reversed or shifted. A divine curse has no such things. The curse feeds off of the energy of the immortal. So the only way for you to stop it would be to destroy the immortal." "Which is impossible?" "Very much so," he chuckles, "I am curious. What has this Bane character said to you of the curse?" "She told me that the curse is ancient, originating from a woman who had drowned herself in her own sorrow. She placed the curse, and at first, many feared it. But over time, they forgot, and it was nothing more than a rumor that would sometimes be brought up at tables. She told me that it would rest itself on the shoulders of the brightest Phoenix and that it was me." He hums, "anything else?" "No. Just that the curse is why that day happened. The day I fell from the sky. And that it's why my parents abandoned me, not wishing to look upon what would be the destruction of their house." "Destruction," he seems interested, "what destruction?" "Bane wishes for the fall of all houses. She says that my birth alone will be the undoing of Phoenix." His hair takes on the traits of flame, swaying in the wind and cracking like a whip before being drawn back in. His skin looks like it shifts to rock, and between the cracks, one can spot lava. But as soon as this happens, it ends. He inhales heavily and nods. <<if hasVisited("Z2.01Phoenix") and hasVisited("Z2.01Curse")>>\ [[“What must I do?”|2.01.1Z]] <<else>>\ [[“My people? The Phoenix?”|Z2.01Phoenix][$suntalk_4 +=1]] <</if>>\
"My people? Do you mean the Phoenix?" you shake your head, "they are not my people, and their wrongs are not mine. Not after what they did." You shake your head. "But why me then? If her gripe is with my people, then why didn't this fall on any other or all of us? Why a single child? A child!?" "I cannot say. I am only the overseer of your curse, the one who will make sure that the curse is fulfilled. All I know is that the curse was meant to befall the brightest phoenix. And seeing that you're standing before me, that's you." <<if hasVisited("Z2.01Phoenix") and hasVisited("Z2.01Curse")>>\ [[“What must I do?”|2.01.1Z]] <<else>>\ [[“The curse!”|Z2.01Curse]] <</if>>\
"What must I do? How can I put a stop to this?" <<if $purpose is "lost">>\ He doesn't immediately answer, instead choosing to look around the maze and the three paths that stand before the both of you. "Which way?" he questions. You shake your head, preparing to speak when he beats you to it, "I will answer your question. But first, answer mine. I wish to know which way you think is wiser." Hoping that he will stay true to his word and seeing no reason to loiter, you shift your attention to the three potential routes. Immediately your mind attempts to find the difference between them, what makes one more attractive than the last. But you see nothing. All three of them look the exact same, not one looking wiser than the previous. The more you stare, the more confused you become. It feels as if each route laughs at you, taunting you with your own sudden indecisiveness. They scream and shout, and no matter how much you attempt to shut them out, nothing works. They only rise, towering over you. "I don't know," you admit, glaring at the ground. <<elseif $purpose is "confident">>\ He doesn't immediately answer, instead nodding to the sword that you still hold close to your chest, "defend yourself." You shake your head, preparing to speak when he beats you to it, "I will answer your question. But first, defend the next series of attacks." Arguing seems like a waste of time, and so you nod your head, getting into the appropriate stance and preparing yourself for whatever he will do. At first, each move is simple, and you manage to deflect it with ease. But then he begins to do things that are far too advanced. Moving and performing sword techniques that you have seen but have no knowledge on how to properly defend against. "Wait," you growl but Sun presses on. Frustration builds in the pit of your stomach and threatens to spill as you find yourself on the ground, Sun's sword hovering over your neck. You roughly push it away and shout, "I'm still learning." This anger, you aren't entirely sure where it is coming from. If it is due to whatever this place is or if it is something else. <<else>>\ He doesn't immediately answer; instead, he motions to the stretch of land before you, "you wish to meet that horizon, yes?" You shake your head, preparing to speak when he beat you to it, "I will answer your question. But first, answer mine. Would you jump to reach the horizon you so desperately yearn to meet?" Arguing seems like a waste of time, and so you choose to answer him. "Yes." "Then jump." As if to put emphasis on his words, he moves out of the way. Your heart stutters as legs work on their own volition and take you to the edge of the cliff. You gaze down and see the long drop, and forget all about what rests beyond that. If you can fly, then this drop will be like any other. And even with the understanding that you cannot, something inside of you still pushes you to take that last step, to feel the wind as it rushes past you, your body shifting as you take control of not only yourself but of the skies. And then something screams, drowning out every other voice. A phoenix falls, and darkness is the only thing that catches them. It cradles and lulls them to sleep, and when they awake, they find themselves in a steel cage. And there they stay for eternity. You back away and shake your head, almost tripping in your haste to put distance between you and the edge. "No." <</if>>\ "I see," he whispers and then shakes his head, "there is only one thing that will bring the end of this curse. Your death. And you have very little time." "No," you shout, forgetting that the being before you is not a mere person but a god, "there must be a way to slow this down." You point an accusing finger at him. "And why now? Why, after all this time, do you choose to show?" "After all this time." His gaze lowers to his wrist, where the bandage rests. It pulses and constricts. He sighs, "it was simply time." [[“And I should just take your word for it?”|Z2.01TakeYourWord]] [[“I need more than that.”|Z2.01NeedMore]] [[“You don't care about me.”|Z2.01DC]]
Convenience. That is what this feels like. And you despised said feeling. "And I should just take your word for it?" He sneers, "you have done so before with others. So why not?" Your body stiffens, not knowing what he may possibly mean by that but not finding the want or courage to question him either. Your anger is well placed but the fact remains, you are in the presence of a god. <<include "2.01.2Z">>
"That's it?" you question, examining him. That can not be it. What help is he? "It was simply time? And that is supposed to change things?" "It changes nothing," he corrects, "but it is the truth." You open your mouth but close it a second later. What more is there to say? Sun is on someone's side, but it's clear that it isn't yours. He feels more like a messenger than a High God at that moment, and to not disrespect one of the mightiest beings, you decide to remain silent. <<include "2.01.2Z">>
You shake your head as you look him up and down. Repeating the words to yourself, you almost wish to criticize yourself for your foolishness. Why would a god, a High God, care about your life? You've had fifteen years to realize that no one but a select few care for you. "You don't care about me," you mumble, taking a step away from him. "If you did, then you would have sought to help or guide me. You have done nothing but watch." "You don't think I've heard every prayer uttered from you?" he growls, possessing an almost animalistic quality about it. "And what did you answer?" you snap back, and he backs down. You aren't sure how wise it is to anger a High God, a fact your brain keeps attempting to get you to remember. But anger has seized your heart, and though fire no longer resides within you like it should, you feel it flaring. <<include "2.01.2Z">>
"You have until Smoten," he tells you. You refuse to show it<<if $anger gt $sad and $anger gt $numb>>, all the anger that courses through you, you keep it to yourself. Everything from the clenching of your jaw to how your nails dig into your palm as you form a tight fist.<<elseif $sad gt $anger and $sad gt $numb>>, the tears that want to spill and soak your cheeks. You won't sob, not here in front of Sun and not even when you are alone. You were raised better than to show such feeble emotion.<<else>>, and as you stare on, it becomes nothing. You received the facts, and that was that. Now you simply wish to return.<</if>> Your surroundings begin to shift as if a wind vortex is ridding you of it. <<if $purpose is "lost">>Despite being confused through more than half of it, something within you yearns to be reunited with it. It is like learning the tragedy of another, and though your heart goes out to them, you find solace within their company. And now, this wind wishes to rob you of that, and there is nothing you can do.<<elseif $purpose is "confident">>It is only when it begins to disappear that you realize how at home you feel, how natural a blade feels in your hands. Despite hardly ever training with one, you feel stronger, far more confident than ever before. For however long you were there, you felt in charge of your life and your destiny. And now, it is like bidding farewell to a most sumptuous dream. Only to reenter a world of heartbreak and anger and falsities.<<else>>It is only when it begins to disappear that you realize how truly relaxing it was. You reach out as if the action will cause the wind to cease, and you'll be returned to the world of splendor. But you know it is futile, and you clutch your hand close, bidding it a silent goodbye.<</if>> The world comes back into view, and you find yourself on the ground, your head aching, but all other pain has since diminished. The hut seems familiar, and after some time, you realize it is the shaman's hut. <a data-passage="2.02Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Thus your world comes toppling down onto you. You are going to die. In Smoten, nothing will matter anymore because everything will have ended. And it is Monsuna now! Smoten is advancing, and nothing will stop it. Not Bane, not Laurens, certainly not yourself … not even Sun can save you. In a matter of days, everything you knew has become dust. Another bolt of pain shoots through your chest, dwindling a moment later, but you are now sitting up. "Easy," someone says beside you, and you jump. [[Back away as quickly as possible.|Z2.02BackAway][$action +=3]] [[Grab something to protect yourself.|Z2.02ProtectYourself][$injury_palm = true; $action +=5]] [[Blink. Become reacquainted with the world.|Z2.02Blink][$action -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> You have no idea what rests behind you, but you don't care. Everything inside of you tells you to put as much space between you and whoever was near, assess your situation after. And that is what you do … until your head hits the wooden arm of the chair you remember sitting in earlier. You moan and shove it away before glancing at whoever the person was, finding that they have not yet moved. His eyes are soft, seeming to ask if you were okay without actually voicing it. "I'm fine," you mumble. And he nods, a relieved smile appearing. <<include "2.02.1Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> You don't think twice. As you lean away from whoever is there, your hand searches for a weapon and comes across a glass shard. You take it and point it towards the person. The action causes your head to ache, and you grow nauseous, feeling your throat tighten as if you are about to vomit. "It's okay," the person says slowly, grabbing your wrist and prying your fingers apart so you will release the glass. <<if $notouchy>>You snatch your hand away, blinking a few times in confusion when you see blood residing there. You hadn't thought you cut yourself.<<else>>Blood appears, and you blink in confusion upon realizing that you had cut yourself due to the grip.<</if>> "Tsk tsk," he sighs, standing and going to the shaman's table where bandages rest. He grabs them and comes back to your side, nodding to your injury. "I should probably wrap that." Not wishing to have yet another open wound that you leave to the wrath of the elements, you hand him your hand and allow him to appropriately dress it. <<include "2.02.1Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> You ignore the voice, or better yet, you act on their advice. Slowly, you begin to center yourself and focus your energy on understanding where you are and what is happening. Yet again, you find your mind walking through the past events. Finally, at peace, you turn to get a look at whoever is here with you and find a pair of calm seafoam and yellow eyes staring back. <<include "2.02.1Z">>
<<if $kindeyes>>\ Squinting, you realize that you remember this man. "I know you," you start, "you helped me up outside the village but then left me standing there." His eyes widen, and he ducks his head, scratching the back of his neck and letting out the most nervous chuckle you have heard. "Sorry. Sorry," he repeats, bowing his head with each apology muttered, "I forget not everyone speaks our language, and I did not have my kisoel turned on." "Your what?" He points to a device resting in his ear, "my kiseol. We all have one. It gives us ability to hear. But it can be tiring to keep on, so we have them off unless needed." <</if>>\ He tilts his head to the side, "what's your name?" The question actually shocks you, and the fact that it does seems as odd as the inquiry itself. [[Tell him.|Z2.02TellHim][$cold -=3; $leery -=5]] [[Question his reason.|Z2.02QuestionReason][$leery +=3]] [[Say nothing.|Z2.02SayNothing][$unknown = true; $cold +=3; $leery +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Warm ++ | Naive ++</span><</if>> "$name $surname." "Saabiq," he greets, with a subtle head nod. He reaches out for you, but before his fingers can even connect, he pulls them back and blushes. Whereas Khan Zarik's and Ari Baz's ridges rest on their face, Saabiq's are along his hand, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his coat. <<include "2.02.2Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Leery ++</span><</if>> <<if $nametold>>"Why?" you ask, "do you truly care?" Perhaps the man did not deserve your volatile behavior, but Khan Zarik's previous words are still fresh. You telling him something as simple as your name had been deemed unimportant and a waste of information, apparently. Someone can argue that being angry at such a thing is silly, yet it bothers you nevertheless.<<else>>"Why?" you ask, "what will knowing my name help you with?"<</if>> He frowns and tilts his head to the side, "I simply wish to know what to call you. I'm Saabiq." You look at him for a few minutes longer, "$name $surname." "It is nice to meet you." <<include "2.02.2Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cold ++ | Leery ++</span><</if>> You don't answer, choosing to stay quiet as he waits patiently. Upon realizing that you aren't about to speak, he clears his throat. "I'm Saabiq." The hut is then bathed in silence, and Saabiq clears his throat. "It is nice to meet you." <<include "2.02.2Z">>
"You are not like the rest of your fellow soldiers, are you?" "I am," he chuckles, "and not." "What do you mean?" "Perhaps you will figure on your own, perhaps not." He leaves you with that small riddle, refusing to give a straight answer. "Well, Saabiq. Where are the others?" You suddenly remember Laurens and how Khan Zarik wished to kill him. "The basilisk that came after me, the defective one. Where is he?" "Outside, last checked." You waste no time getting to your feet and leaving the hut behind. Like Saabiq had said, you find the rest of the unit on the other side of the now unoccupied house, Laurens on his knees and hands bound while Khan Zarik and Ari Baz stand before him. [[Stand between them and Laurens.|Z2.02StandBetween][$timid -=5]] [[Go directly to Laurens.|Z2.02DirectlyToLaurens][$timid +=5]] [[Shout for them to stop.|Z2.02ShoutToStop][$action +=5]] [[Approach carefully.|Z2.02ApproachCarefully][$action -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++</span><</if>> You sprint towards Laurens and throw yourself in front of him, ensuring they can not touch him without dealing with you first. "Sweet," Khan Zarik snorts, "but unneeded." You glance behind you at Laurens, who is gazing at you with an impassive demeanor. "They have not touched you?" you question, but he is unable to answer. <<include "2.03Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Timid ++</span><</if>> "Laurens!" you shout and make a beeline for him, ignoring the glances from Khan Zarik and Ari Baz. "Are you okay?" Laurens opens his mouth to reply but then glances at the two men that stand nearby, "we will talk later." <<include "2.03Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">React ++</span><</if>> "Stop!" You shout, rushing towards the three men with your head high, "you lay a hand on him, and you will have me to deal with." Ari Baz rolls his eyes as Khan Zarik raises a lazy brow. "No one has touched him," Ari Baz reassures you before throwing Laurens a dirty look, "yet." "The snake should be -," Laurens starts but never has an opportunity to finish. <<include "2.03Z">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Respond ++</span><</if>> "Don't hurt him," you say loud enough to attract the attention of all three men, your hands raised as you slowly approach. You do not want your presence to spark anything, and this is the only thing you can think of to make sure that does not happen. Once close enough, you gaze over at Laurens, who is looking you over, frowning at the bandages that rest on your leg<<if $injury_palm and $injury_slicedarm>>, palm, and the area near your elbow. And those are just the ones that have been bandaged. When you glance back up at him, you see a satisfied look in his eye.<<elseif $injury_palm>> and palm. When you glance back up at him, you see a neutral look residing on his face.<<elseif $injury_slicedarm>> and the area near your elbow. When you glance back up at him, you see a neutral look residing on his face.<<else>>. When you glance back up at him, you see him frowning, but he doesn't voice his thoughts.<</if>> <<include "2.03Z">>
Khan Zarik clears his throat, his eyes trained on you and you only, "this pain you are experiencing, where is it centered?" A look of bewilderment appears on your face, but no one's face, not even Laurens, gives a clue as to why he has asked this. You focus back on him, "my chest." Khan Zarik's jaw clenches, and Ari Baz just closes his eyes. One look at Laurens tells you that whatever this is about, he has won. "What will you do to him?" you inquire. "You have nothing to worry about," Laurens snorts with a smile that backs up his words, "they wouldn't dare touch me." "Hold your tongue," Khan Zarik growls, "if you think any of my soldiers will care about the death of a defective member, then you are confused." "They heard what I said. They'll tell their superiors what you did." "Do you wish to test that?" The two continue glaring at one another until Ari Baz steps between them. <a data-passage="2.03.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Let us not test anything," he sighs, resting both hands on Khan Zarik's shoulders and forcing the man to look at him instead, "we also do not wish to anger the phoenix. Let's bring him with us and let the Patriarchy decide his fate." Khan Zarik says nothing for a while before finally pulling away from Ari Baz's touch and turning. "Bind the both of them and put them on the cart with Diouri's things." Ari Baz snorts, "and when he complains about the extra weight?" "Tell him to deal with it." Another soldier approaches as soon as Khan Zarik finishes speaking, "my Khan, we have confirmation that the boats are prepared for departure." "Great." He mumbles something else, but you don't hear him as two officers approach Laurens and force him to his feet. The soldier you already met, Saabiq, offers you a sad smile before taking your hands and binding them. They walk the two of you to a cart pulled by a peaceful appearing leopard and, like Ari Baz surmised, the owner complains but inevitably must deal with Khan Zarik's decision. Most of the basilisks have already moved on, but those that do stay back to guard you and Laurens shift. It is the first time you have seen them do such a thing, and like any other transforming phaizarn, you're captivated by it. A spark of resentment rears its head, but you coax it into oblivion, so used to the action that it almost seems automatic. You watch as legs meld together and their bodies elongate, turning into an enormous snake. Their length and size are monstrous, at least reaching forty or fifty feet in length. They have dragon and snake similarities. Obviously appearing more like a snake, but their face and the sheer terror they induce being more closely associated with the winged creatures, you even ponder if there is some sort of shared history. The cart moves forward, and you look to Laurens. You wish to ask so many things, but you are unsure if doing so is wise, not with the company you now keep. [[Get closer and ask.|Z2.03Ask]] [[You will have plenty of time later.|Z2.03AskLater]]
You purposely move so that you are sitting shoulder to shoulder with Laurens. "Where were you? How did you find me? What happened after the tower? Do you know if Bane and the others are okay?" Your last question causes you to stop and swallow a lump in your throat. You have to tell him about Raznith. He wouldn't know. "Laurens, Ra-" "We will speak later," he tells you, cutting you off and glancing at the soldiers that keep close and then to the man that guides the car, he doesn't even attempt to act as if he's not listening in. "Right now, as you can see, is not the best time." You hum in understanding, saying nothing more. <<include "2.03.2Z">>
Right now isn't the best time to talk about anything, not with three soldiers trailing you and the cart driver so close by. <<include "2.03.2Z">>
The ride continues in silence. Minutes shifting into hours as the two of you sit there and look out at the seldomly shifting landscape. Numerous times you look to Laurens, wondering if in this bout of silence he is thinking of ways to get away. Will he have more luck than you? Do you even wish for him to? You once thought that Laurens finding you will make all of this disappear, that understanding and control will once again reenter your life. And yet, as soon as you see him in a similar state as you, you see no hope on your horizon. [[Stay positive. You'll get out of this even if it's just you.|2.03.3Z][$positive +=5]] [[Think of the negatives. There's no point in lying to yourself.|2.03.3Z][$positive -=5]] [[Think of other things.|2.03.3Z]]
Your thoughts are chased away by the sounds of the waves beating against the pebbles that make up the nearing coast. You're not sure how much time has passed in all, by how stiff your body feels, quite a lot. But there is no time to think about that. Your eyes and attention instead fall on the massive boats resting before you. How big is an ordinary boat? What is the difference between a boat and a ship? Will one take offense to you calling a ship a boat or the other way around? "Control yourself," Laurens growls, shaking his head in disgust. You temper your expressions, but your eyes still shoot towards the ocean vessels and take in all of their glory. Smooth wood makes up the bulk of it, and a colorful blue, green, cream, and gold sail is tended to by the crew. "Let's go," Khan Zarik barks, looking around, passing over you for a moment, but you draw his eye, and he approaches. "The phoenix goes on the ship with me," he tells the guards, and then he looks over at Laurens. <<if $trouble >=50>>"Take the defect to the ship that Ari Baz will be on."<<else>>"Bring the defect as well."<</if>> <<if $trouble >=50>>You ready yourself to argue, but Khan Zarik is already walking away, and the soldiers are already leading you and Laurens in different directions. He nods as if to assure that everything will be alright, but how is he to know? The one thing that makes sense in this world is once again leaving your side, and though you know you can not voice your frustrations, that's all you wish to do.<<else>>Releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you silently thank whatever caused Khan Zarik to agree to keep the two of you on the same boat. The three soldiers move the two of you forward, or well, Saabiq moves you forward while Laurens' guards shove him, practically causing him to trip. He rights himself on his own, but you can see the anger festering. You frown, glancing away as you're reminded how many times that anger was turned on you. Woken in the dead of night to find Laurens hovering over you, stealing you away as he made you pay for something that was not your doing. But you are no longer at the tower. Will he be able act out at all here? <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You board the ship, wobbling and needing to grab onto the ship's railing to steady yourself. <<if $region is "Reno">>Seeing that you were raised near the ocean, this is not the first time you have seen such a sight. But it feels so distant as if someone else entirely had lived it. You remember how much you loved it as well. Walking along the beach and smelling the sharp sea smell or focusing on the feeling of the sand between your toes. You never cared much about it, but now that you are standing here amongst it, you realize how much you missed it so. Regardless, you have never seen ships. The area you grew up was mostly left untouched besides small fisherman boats. Otherwise, it would scare off the native phoenix and fish population.<<else>>You have never seen a boat, and though something inside wishes to correct you, you're pretty sure you've never seen the ocean either. If you did, then you have a hard time remembering, and therefore it is irrelevant. The way the setting sun reflects off the water draws a contented sigh out of you. It is all so beautiful. So infinite and vast. And this is only the surface. Your imagination can't even comprehend what rests within its depths. There is an obvious danger to all of this, and you aren't sure of your feelings about it. But you will see.<</if>> Who you suppose is the crew bustles around, easily navigating past you and the other travelers that have graced their boat. They move as if they are used to this, and you speculate on the chances of them retiring and laughing amongst each other about how odd you all look. That thought then causes you to wonder what they have seen. What adventurous tales can they nourish to life? Each scar that rests on their bodies is a <<if $trouble >=50>>punishment. No, that isn't true. It is unfair to believe that everyone's tales line with yours. That all people are disobedient and unruly and need to be properly punished before being taught.<<else>>lesson, and you are curious to know what they learned.<</if>> "Let's sail, lads!" the captain, or who you think is the captain, shouts. You know nothing about ships and how those who work them get around. You know only that they navigate with the help of the stars<<if $stars >=20>>, an act that you understand just fine.<<else>>.<</if>> The ship lurches forward, and despite believing yourself ready, you stumble into Saabiq. <<if $notouchy>>He attempts to right you, but you move back before he can touch you, clearing your throat as the action almost causes you to stumble for a second time. "You don't like being touched, do you?" he questions. "That's right." He says no more, nodding and looking out.<<else>>He reaches out and helps to steady and then right you, releasing you as soon as you are once again in charge of your own legs.<</if>> [[Make conversation with Saabiq.|Z2.04ConvoWithSaabiq][$basilisklake = true; $unit +=3]] [[Remain silent and listen to those around you.|Z2.04SilentAndListen][$action -=3; $stealth +=2]]
You take a minute to analyze Saabiq. Before, you have done so in small increments, simple observations, and then you moved on. But now you are curious about all of him, the first basilisk soldier to actually speak to you as if you are a friend and not a prisoner or foe. He has shoulder-length black hair that one can argue is both orderly but also unkempt. The parts that are orderly are kept in a topknot bun, while the parts hanging down are busy being ravaged by the wind. <<if $height is "short" or $height is "very short">>He is much taller than you, but that is something you can say about most people.<<elseif $height is "average">>He is slightly taller than you, allowing you not to have to strain your neck at either angle to see him.<<else>>He is about the same height as you, if not just a bit shorter.<</if>> Then there are his kind eyes, and as he excitedly takes in your surroundings, you find yourself enraptured by them. A pout forms on your lips, and you suddenly find yourself comparing them to Zarik's, oddly enough. Imaginably it is due to the stark difference between Saabiq's and even Laurens'. Laurens, whose outer rim is black and the inner green can never match the pure intensity that Zarik's hold. You have yet to see Zarik express anything more than slight anger, annoyance, and boredom, but somehow you can imagine them lighting up when he is joyful. A curious thought but one that seems misplaced. You clear your throat, "so, Saabiq, what can you tell me about where we are headed?" "You mean Sulazi?" "I suppose." "It's beautiful," he says, closing his eyes as the wind rustles his hair. "The roads glisten, and buildings are magnificent. I don't know much about architecture, but lovely to look at. Rivers cut through entire city and actually one way to travel. Though many simply shift and swim themselves." He props himself up on his elbow, "I miss it. We've been on road for so long. First thing you should do is go to Basilisk Lake right before sun disappears from skies and -" He bites his lip and gives you a conspiratorial look. Whatever he was going to say is now to be labeled a mystery. <a data-passage="2.04.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Thankfully Saabiq does not try and speak to you, allowing you to focus on those walking around you. The sailors make such a task hard, seeing that though they speak the same language as you, they express it in such an odd way that you can hardly understand any of it. You watch as one sailor laughs, but his companion sounds like he said something incredibly offensive. And if you wished to listen in on the basilisks, that is impossible. You find they are no longer verbally communicating, going back to their hand language. You frown, and a thought comes to mind, "Saabiq." "Yes?" "Can you teach me your language?" "I'm no teacher," he informs but shrugs, "but I can teach some basics. I'd have to make sure Khan Zarik approves." "Is that truly needed?" You aren't sure how Khan Zarik will respond, so you'd rather just bypass his approval completely. "It is," he frowns. <<if $charisma >=10>>\ <<nobr>>\<<set $earlylearning = true>><</nobr>>\ You move so that he is focused on you and you only, "Khan Zarik had already said that I should learn some of the language before I make it to your home. I asked if he could teach me, and he said no, so I doubt he'll care if you wish to teach me. Plus, you said it yourself. You will teach me the basics. Do you truly think it wise to disturb Khan Zarik with such a petty reason?" If no other part gets to him, the last does. He stiffens and seems to agree without saying much. "Alright, I'll help tonight. Just meet me on deck at nightfall." You nod and thank him. <<else>>\ "What's the big deal? You'll only teach me a bit. I don't understand why Khan Zarik needs to be informed." "I do not wish to be in trouble otherwise." You suspect fear to plague his features but instead, you see nothing but admiration. It is such a clear emotion that you wonder if he even knows how palpable it is. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Phoenix!" Someone shouts, and you both turn to see a soldier approaching, "Khan Zarik has instructed me to show you to your cabin. Follow me." Saabiq does a movement that you are not familiar with, but you have no time to question him as he walks off, and your escort is not waiting for you. Sticking close, they take you below deck and down a hall before opening a door. The area is not large, but it is neither as small as you believed. Within, a single bed resides or what you think is a bed. It hangs from the ceiling of the ship by rope and looks to be made of thin fabric. You picture yourself attempting to lay on it and immediately meeting the floor intimately. Otherwise, the only other things are a small but broad chest pushed against a wall and then a table in the corner. The guard leaves, and for the first time in a long time, you find yourself alone. With narrow eyes, you go to the door and open it, just in time to see the soldier disappear above deck, but no one else is in the halls. No guards. What are they thinking? Do they believe you too scared to attempt an escape? Understanding taps you on the shoulder as you close the door and go back into the simplistic room. Of course, they see no need to post guards outside your room. You are on a ship, where will you go? The only thing you can do is jump into the water and hope that whatever creatures rest there will take pity on you. That and the current, which is far less likely to show an ounce of sympathy. Now that you are alone and with a moment to breathe, you sit and attempt to gather a host of scattered thoughts. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T4")>>You have already considered yourself.<<else>>[[Yourself.|Z2.04T4]]<</if>>
//You have until Smoten.// His warning repeats in your mind, and it feels like it has still not sunken in totally. You will die in about a month; that is the part you have a problem grappling. You truly wish to say that Sun does't know what he's talking about, but why would he lie? Why would a High God visit you to harass you? Perhaps if Sun was known to be a trickster, but he isn't. You recall the lessons you received about him back in House Phoenix. Much is lost to you, buried deep within your mind's archives. But what you do recall is that he is not one to interfere with the lives of mortals. He much rather watch from a distance. He is strict and observes warriors and fighters. And if that isn't enough, the curse he speaks of is enough to sway you. But none of this makes it better. It all means that you are indeed going to die. What have you done with your life besides crawl and cry out? What victories have you gained? Who will remember your name? The answer is no one. No one will remember the one phoenix who never truly took flight. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T4")>>You have already considered yourself.<<else>>[[Yourself.|Z2.04T4]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
House Basilisk. When you were a child, Bane had gone through all of the royal houses and even some minor ones of importance. You knew about the fall of House Stag, though she spoke of them little. House Pegasus was weak, and Dragon all too busy murdering one another to ever be a threat to any other house. Griffins were prideful and liars, and Phoenix were not far behind. They simply made themselves seem like a neutral party when they were just as awful as any other. You recall learning about houses like Wolf, Chunae, and Bear, but Bane paid little attention to them. It was obvious her gripe was with the royal houses of the land. When she spoke of Basilisk, it was with such venom that it made Dragon seem like saints who should be worshiped. They were murderers, and their traditions were horrendous. They cared nothing for others and were exclusionists. And you now find yourself traveling with them. Khan Zarik is a man who keeps to himself, cold and calculating if you have to describe him. His unit is either loyal to a fault or fear for their lives, and neither sit well with you. Both will lead to trouble in the end. You don't know how to feel about the unit. They don't seem to outright despise you as much as they look at you like you are the enemy or simply with curiosity. And their ways are odd. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T4")>>You have already considered yourself.<<else>>[[Yourself.|Z2.04T4]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
Raznith is dead. And yet again, you snort. The idea of him being dead isn't what bothers you. It's seeing the face of his murderer and knowing that if you ask him, he will have no recollection of the man. It is the understanding that Raznith was a man who had seen so much and helped raise an army, and in a few minutes, all that came to a halt because he went up against the wrong man. Laurens is alive, though, and that at least eases some of your tension. How Laurens was able to get Khan Zarik not to kill him is what piques your interest. You blacked out as soon as they were about to engage, and you don't know what came after that. You have yet to speak to Laurens, and so until that time comes, you are unsure and will remain so. And finally, your mind comes to rest on the thought of Bane. You don't know if she is alive or not, though Laurens may be able to tell you. Something inside of you feels that she is. You aren't sure why, but you feel like you would've sensed her death if it had come. But all of this can be you simply wishing. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T4")>>You have already considered yourself.<<else>>[[Yourself.|Z2.04T4]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
It is actually quite funny. Even with all of the times you were alone in the tower, you hadn't really had time to stop and think about yourself. Where your thoughts are, feelings, and emotions. That can very well be because you were told what to do with your emotions at every turn, how to feel about your body, and the pain that courses through it. The more you ponder it, the more you realize that most of everything about you is formed from someone's else commands. What exactly can you claim about yourself that hasn't been directly touched or influenced by the whims of another? [[No! They helped you.|Z2.04T4.1]] [[There had to be some things …|Z2.04T4.2]] [[Nothing. That was the simple truth.|Z2.04T4.3]]
You shake your head, refusing to let that thought continue, especially when you know it to be wrong. All that Bane and Laurens have done has been for your benefit. Whether it took you a month or years to learn that, in the end, it is to help you. You were weak before they came into your life, fragile and nothing but a broken child. They made you into something greater. //Indeed//, a frazzled voice whispers, //so again, what can you claim that hasn't been influenced by another?// <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
The question you present to yourself should have simply been a thought. And yet, you find yourself pondering it more and more. There has to be a few things. It is true that Bane and Laurens has influenced much, but there is no way that your entire identity is tied to them. Your skills! Yes, that is something that you have chosen yourself. Though it is all in your head, the sounds of laughter are all around you, as if you now stand on a stage and are the joke of the day. One thing. One thing is all you can claim. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
There is no need to go into some deep thought about what the answer is. There is no need to ponder the question and break it down to its basic fundamentals to possibly come up with a satisfying discovery. The simple answer is that there is nothing. They have touched so much that it feels like your entire life is tied to them. All they have to do is pull, and the knot holding you in place will unravel, and you will fall. There is no catching yourself or slowing the descent. <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T1")>>You have already thought about Sun's words and your death.<<else>>[[Sun's words and your death.|Z2.04T1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T2")>>You have already contemplated Khan Zarik and his basilisks.<<else>>[[Khan Zarik and his basilisks.|Z2.04T2]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.04T3")>>You have already mediated on Bane and Laurens.<<else>>[[Bane and Laurens.|Z2.04T3]]<</if>> [[Try and sleep.|2.05Z]]
And though you make the attempt, it is hard to sleep with those thoughts still moving around in your mind. [[But you attempt to do so anyway.|Z2.05AttemptSleep]] [[So you go above deck.|Z2.05AboveDeck]]
Sleep is vital, and you fail to remember when the last time you actually did it is. The days all feel like they have morphed into one another, and this is the first night that you have experienced since the events at the tower. With that mindset, your brain begins to hurt, listing all that has happened since then. No, whether you like it or not, you will need to sleep. <<if $acrobat >=10>>You approach the odd bed and sigh, not ready to fail at however this is supposed to go. To your amazement, you don't. It is all about balance, and seeing that is one of your strengths, you have little to no trouble. You get comfortable and force yourself to sleep.<<else>>You approach the odd bed and attempt to get in it, falling out of it more than once. Not only does your frustration mount, but your wounds begin to moan as you slam against the compact wooden ground countless times. It feels like your twelfth attempt when you finally achieve your goal. Though part of you feels like it will just be better to sleep on the floor, this thing is not comfortable, and every shift sees you almost ending back on the ground.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.06Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Attempting to sleep when it evades you like an energetic pup isn't going to get you anywhere. And so, you get out of bed and backtrack, soon finding yourself above deck. You find yourself surrounded by the large expanse of stars overhead and the soothing sounds of the water as the boat travels on. <<if $trouble <50>>The last time you were up here, you saw the soldiers tying Laurens to the central large … stick thing. You don't know what it is called and don't honestly care at the moment. When you search to see if he is still there, you find that he is and no guards surround him. [[You can easily go up to him and talk.|Z2.05Laurens]] Finally, figuring out his side of things and perhaps learning if there is a plan of escape.<</if>><<if $earlylearning>> You also recall Saabiq offering to teach you some basics if you came out here. He hasn't told you where to meet besides saying on the deck, so it takes a while to locate him. You finally spot him off to the side, sitting against the railing and overlooking the ocean. [[He is perhaps waiting for you to join him so that you can start.|Z2.05Saabiq]] Or you can renege and simply learn another time.<</if>> But this is a unique experience, one that you wish to savor. [[And for that, you want to go to the railing and look out at the never-ending expanse of sea.|Z2.05Zarik]]
Taking a second glance around, you decide to speak to Laurens, approaching him calmly to not draw the attention of any watching guards. He glances up at you and then around before refocusing, immediately asking, "how were you captured?" "I almost escaped the tower but they grabbed me at the last minute." "Did they hurt you?" You begin to answer but pause when your mind sends out a subtle warning. Is this a trick question? It wouldn't be the first time Laurens has asked a question, hiding it beneath another. Your answer supplies both in the end. [[Be honest. “They haven't.”|Z2.05LHonest]] [[Lie. “They have.”|Z2.05LLie]] <<if $injury_slicedarm>>\[[Be honest. “Not from lack of trying.”|Z2.05LHonestInjury]]<</if>>\
It'll be just your luck that you lie, and Laurens sees through it. Or even worse, you lie, and it proves to not be what he wants to hear. No, it is better to speak truthfully. "They haven't." He stares at you and shakes his head but seems to refuse to say whatever is on his mind. <<include "2.05L1">>
"They have," you lie, trying to figure out what his angle is. Laurens is a supporter of pain, and if years of being under his wing has taught you anything, you telling him no will probably piss him off more than saying yes. He doesn't verbally speak his mind, but he does hum and nod. <<include "2.05L1">>
You hold up your still bandaged arm and roll your eyes, "not from lack of trying." "How did you get that?" His questions are precise, almost as if he has been preparing these since the two of you reunited. "I attacked one of the guards, and the ridges on her face cut me. By the way," you start, taking a minute to actually get a good look at Laurens. Now that you've seen other basilisks and have actually seen what is probably standard, Laurens' appearance makes less sense. He has a row of small ridges right under his eye, but that is it, and even that detail is minor. No scales are visible, and one may even doubt he is a basilisk in the first place. Then there is also the fact that he can hear, for you have yet to see him use the device that the others use. "How can you hear?" "I was born with it, rare but not unheard of." He answers with a hint of pride in his voice. <<include "2.05L1">>
"What do you know so far?" You recount everything you've learned about the basilisk unit, the names, and what Khan Zarik has told you when he finally became open to answering questions. Laurens gives nothing away, staring into the distance with a blank expression as you bring your story close to its end. There is only one last thing to inform him on. "Laurens," you sigh, "Raznith … he's dead." "What?!" he growls, his eyes wide. "Khan Zarik killed him." "And the guards who were with Raznith? I surmise that they're all dead as well?" <<if $cold >=50>>"After lending him their own necks, yes." You will not keep their act of cowardliness to yourself, Laurens should know.<<else>>"Yes. They are." You keep how they had given themselves up to yourself. There is no need to tell Laurens. It is best to let the dead rest.<</if>> <a data-passage="2.05L2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Laurens is quiet for a while, and you desperately wish he'd speak so that you can learn what he is thinking. Even for someone as emotionless as he, you can see the concern, anger, and sorrow racing across his face, hounded by the idea that he should be giving nothing away. "What did he do with the body?" You glance at the ground, "he decapitated him. His head thrown to the leopards." Laurens lets out a shocked and muffled gasp, and for a minute, you believe you see his eyes grow watery, but when you blink, there is nothing but a still depression. "Raznith," he starts, "he was the one who recruited me. Who showed me that things could be better. He taught me everything I know. To hear that he is dead …" He drifts off, blinking a few times and looking over at you. "Leave me, $name." You rise. "When the time comes," he murmurs, clearing his throat and picking up his head. There is a fire within them that causes even you to shiver anxiously, "the warlord is mine to deal with." You nod and head back below deck, his words echoing around in your mind. So then he is formulating a plan. Such an understanding should bring newfound ease, but it doesn't. It only causes you to stiffen more. <a data-passage="2.06Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Saabiq?" you question as you approach, but he doesn't respond. Instead, you walk to the side of him and lean out just enough to get his attention. He gazes over and smiles, pausing to fiddle with something in his ear before turning to you. "Couldn't sleep?" "I just remember your offer." <<if $cold >=50>>You sit down, wondering how this will go. You don't remember learning your native tongue, how long the process took, and if you were patient or not.<<else>>You sit down, "why did you wish to do this at night?" "I like night. It's beautiful, and most of time, weather is nicer." You hum.<</if>> "As I said, I'm not much of a teacher, but I can teach you basic greetings and maybe few other things." He frowns, glancing up at the stars as if they have an answer but then looks back to you. "So, first, hello." He takes his hand and, with the palm facing you, does a large circle. You copy him, but he stops you. "Hand, arm, and finger placement critical. It can be difference between speaking and shouting or saying wrong word and changing meaning of whatever you mean to say. Doing any action above your head means shouting." "So I just screamed hello?" "Yes. Also, large one is formal. You would use to greet those you don't know or when trying to be polite. We also have specific sayings, but that's intense, and I don't know how it works with those not of another culture. A smaller one," he performs a much smaller circle, "is for friends. But still a bit formal. No friends greet each other that way." He chuckles. "So what do friends do?" "We rely not only on language but also body. It's almost just as important. Everything from your posture to your expression is employed and seen as talking." <a data-passage="2.05M1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Are all basilisks so expressive?" "Yes. Save for Khan Zarik," Saabiq looks around as if the man will appear simply because he spoke his name. "He's an exception, and many hate him for it. You can't read him. No one ever knows if about to be disciplined or praised. It's like trying to deduce feelings of a vine." [[“You all frown on that?”|Z2.05MBadSnakey]] [[“I'm much more used to him than you.”|Z2.05MUsedTo]] [[Hum, wishing to continue.|Z2.05MBitchIDC]]
"You all frown on that type of behavior then?" "We do. Superiors don't like it when they can't read you. It's like asking a question and not getting a response." "How is he a warlord then?" "He's really good at everything else. I would never challenge or cross him." //Some seem to have learned that the hard way//, you think to yourself, your mind on Raznith. <<include "2.05M2">>
"I have to admit, I'm much more used to how he hides his feelings than how obvious you show them." "It's fine," Saabiq responds with a shrug, "I would think as much. I don't fault others for it. But it is weird, like someone trapping themselves for no reason." <<include "2.05M2">>
You reply in the form of a simple hum that holds hints of impatience. <<include "2.05M2">>
"But like I was saying. We use body language, most times when we see a friend, we touch foreheads. How you do it informs someone on your relationship." "How so?" "Friends simply touch foreheads, and if pull apart immediately after, then you know they saw each other recently. If they linger and grab back of each other's necks, then they are saying they missed one another. If you see one friend bump other's chin with their head, it's a playful greeting. Those two are close. Rubbing foreheads is intimate hello, and cheek to cheek is an intimate greeting that says I missed you." "How do you remember all this?" He laughs, "I was raised in it. It is like me asking how you remember what marks the difference between goodbye and see you later. Or goodbye for a few hours versus goodbye forever." You nod; this makes sense, but it is still new to you. Unique and exciting, a door opening into a world and culture that you had no idea you would ever get a peek into. [[You would be wise to keep it at that.|2.05M3][$cold +=3]] [[And you can't help but feel yourself falling.|2.05M3][$cold -=3]] [[You were interested but that was it.|2.05M3]]
"Goodbyes are similar, but you go the other way." He shows you. No longer going from the top, right, bottom, and then left. But now top, left, bottom, and then right. It has the same rules as the other. Large for formal and small for informal. "And body language-wise?" "Switch foreheads to hands. Clasped hands, like this," he motions for you to give him your hand. [[Do it.|Z2.05MHand]] [[Refuse.|Z2.05MNoHand]]
You offer it to him, and he clasps it to where your fingers intercept. Each of your fingers fitting snugly between his knuckles and his, yours. "This is simple goodbye. Typically you perform a single nod doing it. If you see both with their lips to back of hand, it is a forlorn goodbye. Type where your heart pains you to see them go. If you see someone blow on back of hand, it's playful and usually results in them being hit." "And intimately?" He again seeks out your hand, this time ordering you to move your thumb to the side, then your pinky, and then your middle finger so it is pointing straight up. Your clasped hands now make an odd symbol that reminds you of some bizarre hat or star. "I don't remember story behind this. But for us, this is a sad goodbye. It means, "wherever you go. I will walk beside you. I will miss your light." He quickly brings his hand back to his side, staring off at the stars. "I always believed it had something to do with the stars but … who knows." <a data-passage="2.05M4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You move your hand closer to your side, shaking your head. He soon gets the point and clasps his own hands together to show you what to do. Each of his fingers fitting snugly between his opposite hand's knuckles. "This is simple goodbye. Typically you perform a single nod doing it. If you see both with their lips to back of hand, it is a forlorn goodbye. Type where your heart pains you to see them go. If you see someone blow on back of hand, it's playful and usually results in them being hit." "And intimately?" He moves his thumb to the side, then his pinky, and then his middle finger, which goes straight up. His clasped hands now make an odd symbol that reminds you of some bizarre hat or star. "I don't remember story behind this. But for us, this is a sad goodbye. It means, "wherever you go. I will walk beside you. I will miss your light." He lingers for a second more, staring at his combined hands before putting them into his lap and staring off at the stars. "I always believed it had something to do with the stars but … who knows." <a data-passage="2.05M4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
He sighs heavily, "one more. You'll appreciate this one." He holds his hand out so that his palm is not pointed forward but to the side. He then takes his left middle finger and traces a circle, ending it at the bottom and then raising his middle finger and sliding it between his right hand's middle and ring finger. Once done, he points at you. "I," he snorts, "just said fuck you." Like last time, you copy it, and he stops you. "Just make sure to always pick finger up when traveling to slide it between your two fingers. If you slide it up your hand like this," he shows you, "you're telling someone you want to … well, fuck them." He relaxes, "of course, there are other basics, but that's all I can think about right now. We can do again if you want." You nod, not knowing if you will take him up, but you will see when that time came. You bid him goodnight and head back to your cabin, this time wishing for sleep to take you, unlike last. <a data-passage="2.06Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You lean on the railing that separates you from the water below. It is mesmerizing, pulling you into its deep blues while it reflects the blanket of stars overhead. Out here is peaceful, even with the choppy waves and the sounds of the crew behind you. One thing that catches your attention, though, is a soft, almost melancholic melody. It overwhelms you, its tune weaving a story all by itself, no words needed. It feels like it's breaking you down to your bare fundamentals, stripping every layer away until your soul is laid barren. And by the time you realize what is happening, the ocean's wind has already blown those same layers away, and you are without them. Pulling yourself away from the railing, you head up the short stairway at the front of the ship in search of the music's origins. Finally, you find the musician, Khan Zarik. He sits on a long wooden part of the ship that sticks out across the water. His back to some rigging as he plays the flute in his hand. [[Keep your distance.|Z2.05ZKeepDistance][$zarik -=3]] [[Approach him.|Z2.05ZApproach][$zarik +=3]]
You can enjoy the music from where you are currently standing, no need to become an eager audience member. You also don't wish to risk him stopping due to your presence. The music is beautiful, weaving some pensive tale that originates from lands you may never see. Or perhaps, you are going too far. Treces is enormous, and you have seen only the northern half of it, never passing the mesas where the griffins stand proudly on warm flat monuments made of rock and clay. You rest your head sideways onto your shoulder, leaning back on the ship's railing as you watch him play from a distance. He seems so utterly taken by his own music. So … defenseless. As if this is the one and only time he will ever drop his guard, and it is to give this music his full attention. And then the music takes a bittersweet turn. Its former buoyancy darkly shifting and creating a chilly mood. It drifts into a land of wistful memories and steps weighing heavy of trepidation. The past appearing before you, stretching out its hand and asking for you to come along, hope in its eye that this will not be your final goodbye. A wave of nostalgia engulfs you and pulls you under, giving unto you its salty tears and embracing you coldly. You know you should fight it, that separating from it is the best decision, but you don't wish to. You need this, and so you nuzzle into it. Onto its shoulders, you release all tension and worries. This would not be goodbye. The ship dips, and some of the tangy ocean water splashes you in the face, leaving behind residues of sweetness on your tongue. You take a step back, realizing that you have gotten unusually close to the ship's edge, and look to where Zarik is sitting. The song has met its end, and he is now tending to the instrument in his hands. You begin to turn when you hear his question, "should you not be sleeping?" "I couldn't," you inform, looking over your shoulder, but he still doesn't even bother to look at you. Curiosity pushes you to approach. Yes, that is what you will call it, even though the words seem misplaced. [[“Should you not be asleep?”|Z2.05ZSleeping]] <<if $music >=30>>\ [[“I know that instrument well.”|Z2.05ZIKnowIt]] <<else>>\ [[“That song was lovely.”|Z2.05ZLovely]] <</if>>\ [[“Worry about yourself.”|Z2.05ZWorryYourself]]
"Should //you// also not be asleep right now? Busy past few days." "Hmm," he hums but otherwise makes no other sound and gives no indication that he will answer you. <<include "2.05Z1">>
"I know that instrument well," you point out, nodding to the flute. "Good for you." You pause, trying to discern if the words were said rudely or plainly, your mind not knowing which is more plausible. <<include "2.05Z1">>
"That song was lovely. Do you play often?" "Hmm," he hums but otherwise makes no other sound and gives no indication that he will answer you. <<include "2.05Z1">>
"You have no reason to worry about me and my sleeping habits. Worry about yourself, Warlord." "Hmm," he hums but otherwise makes no other sound and gives no indication that he cares for what you said. <<include "2.05Z1">>
Finding you have nothing else to say and that Khan Zarik isn't much of a conversationist. You take your leave from his presence. You head back towards your sleeping area, suddenly feeling much sleepier than before. A loud yawn and you drift off, all too happy to let sleep take over. <a data-passage="2.06Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
If he's aware of your presence, he doesn't show it and continues to play the music as he has before. It is hard for you to make up your mind on how you would describe his playing. He seems so relaxed, yet every tune that he churns out proves his mastery and diligence. And then the music takes a bittersweet turn. Its former buoyancy darkly shifting and creating a chilly mood. It drifts into a land of wistful memories and steps weighing heavy of trepidation. The past appearing before you, stretching out its hand and asking for you to come along, hope in its eye that this will not be your final goodbye. A wave of nostalgia engulfs you and pulls you under, giving unto you its salty tears and embracing you coldly. You know you should fight it, that separating from it is the best decision, but you don't wish to. You need this, and so you nuzzle into it. Onto its shoulders, you release all tension and worries. This will not be goodbye. The music stops, and as awareness comes over you, you feel someone's tight grip resting on your wrist. Your eyes flutter open and below you is the ocean, its maw open and ready to swallow you. You turn to see Khan Zarik right behind you, denying the sea its prize. "Careful." He pulls you back and releases you, tending to his flute. <a data-passage="2.05Z2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"I must admit, that was almost unnerving. Your music, I mean." "As it should. The song is part of a story named The Siren's Lullaby. The music tells the story." "What part was the song about?" "The end." What a simple answer. And yet, it hits you far harder than you expected it to. You don't know the story, nor do you know how it ends, but the remnants of the song comes back to you, and your heart grows heavy. It feels like you are bidding farewell to ghosts you have never seen but knew were there. [[“I would like to hear the story one day.”|Z2.05ZSongStory][$songstory = true]] <<if $music >=30>>\ [[“That flute looks odd.”|Z2.05ZOddFlute]] <<else>>\ [[“I'm shocked you know how to play.”|Z2.05ZShockedPlay]] <</if>>\ [[Don't reply.|Z2.05ZNoReply]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Zarik will remember this. Will you?<</notify>><</if>>\ "I would actually like to hear the story in full one day." You think about adding in that it doesn't necessarily have to be him who tells it and that you simply wish to hear the tale in its totality. But his gaze shifts to you, and you find yourself unable to speak. He snorts and shrugs, "if you can remember that when you have time, then yes. I will recite to you the entire story." <<include "2.05Z3">>
"That flute looks odd. Is it a standard one or one specifically from your culture?" "It is modeled after the bansuri flute," he informs you. "What makes it different? Is it not made of the same material?" He glances up at you with a hint of something in his eye. It doesn't seem malicious or warning you to leave him be, but you aren't used to how guarded his expressions are. How every single one seems to need to be appropriately inspected and questioned to figure out its intentions. "We instead use twined vine to create it, the sound is not too different, but it is different enough to refer to it as something else entirely." <<include "2.05Z3">>
"I'm a bit shocked you know how to play since you're born deaf." "I can play this even without the device," he informs you, waving the flute in the air before going back to cleaning it, "we can feel the sound waves and vibrations and, therefore, know what we're playing. You might find some of our music to be odd because of that. We don't do what sounds good in your terms but our own, nice and soothing vibrations or whatever one is looking to accomplish." <<include "2.05Z3">>
You nod but that is all, looking back out at the ocean as you reflect on the melody and what Khan Zarik has said. The rest of that story, is it more gleeful than the end or is the end the only part that has even a semblance of happiness. <<include "2.05Z3">>
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he questions, taking over the conversation. "I tried and failed. And unless you're going to tell me I can't wander, I came for some air." "You may want to get as much sleep as you can. I doubt you'll have time for it when we reach the shore." You don't answer, realizing that he doesn't know about your newest life fact. And the idea of telling him ... you aren't quite sure if it is wise or not. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about him or if you even have an inkling of understanding regarding the man's personality. He is cold. That is about all you are able to confidently say. He is cold in a way that if he doesn't care for you and has nothing to say, then that is just it. He neither messes with you nor does he speak. You are a mission that his superiors sent him to complete, and that is it. [[Tell him what Sun said.|Z2.05ZTellZarikSun][$zariksun = true]] [[Keep it to yourself.|Z2.05ZKeepToSelf]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Zarik now knows about Sun's warning. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>>\ "Khan Zarik," you start, and though he doesn't verbally show awareness, you can see his head shift telling you to continue. "You may not believe me, but when I fainted, I was visited by the High God Sun. He told me that I was going to die due to the curse. I have until Smoten." He nods, "I'll inform my superiors." And that is the end of that. You can't think of anything more for him to say, but it feels like there should be more. Telling someone you are about to die feels like there should be more. But that is unfair. You don't know him, nor he you. <<include "2.05Z4">>
It would be wiser to keep this to yourself. For all you know your news will make this entire mission void, and you don't think Khan Zarik will have any qualms about throwing you overboard. You will figure it out later, perhaps not even then. Maybe you will just die and let them chase their tails in horror as you pass on to what lies next. <<include "2.05Z4">>
Finding you have nothing more to do or say, you take your leave from Khan Zarik's presence. You head back towards your sleeping area and lay down. Sleep immediately appears to guide you the rest of the way. <a data-passage="2.06Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
When you awaken, you find that the soreness of your muscles have dwindled, the aches are no longer there, but you now have what feels like an everlasting headache. You relate that to the rocking of the ship, a movement you aren't used to nor can ever see yourself growing fond of. Risking regurgitation, you get to your feet, realizing that there is no window in this place. The single light source comes from a lit lantern, causing great confusion on whether it is day or night. You approach the door, telling yourself that you can get an answer just by going above deck. The action leaves you feeling weak and unbalanced, your stomach also growling to be fed while your mouth feels like it hasn't tasted water in days. //One problem at a time//, you grumble, opening the door only to stumble backward when Saabiq stands on the other side, appearing just as shocked. <<if $language is 1>>\ You blink but then a second later, do a small circle in the air. A dash of pride enters his eye, and he attempts to hide the look behind his hand. <</if>>\ "It is good to see you finally up." "What do you mean?" You have a slight idea, but your mind refuses to believe it. "You have been asleep entire day. I kept checking on you, but no movement." You wish to say that you're surprised but should have seen this coming. The last time you slept was in your own bed in the tower, and since then, you've been walking, plotting, thinking, and having revelation after revelation thrown at you. You didn't notice how exhausted you were until you laid down, and then, well, it was far too late. <a data-passage="2.06.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"Here," he hands you a pile of folded clothes, "ordered to bring these by. You are actually lucky. You woke day sailors have set up bath." "Is it morning?" "No, afternoon. The sun has already started to descend," he huffs, "so I guess you have slept for day and half. The bath is down hall and hard to miss." He leaves you after that, and you follow his directions to the appropriate room, passing no one as you go. You enter and lock the door behind you, still gathering yourself and beseeching this incipient nauseous feeling to leave you. You head towards the steaming wooden tub, your body relaxing at the mere sight of it. [[No! No relaxing.|Z2.06NoRelax]] [[Relaxing, just for a minute.|Z2.06YesRelax]]
You grunt as you close your eyes and shake your head. Nothing about this should be relaxing, not even a bit. You remind yourself who you are in the presence of, and no matter how cold or friendly they are, they are still the enemy. These people came to your home and devastated it along with others. Their leader killed Raznith, and if Khan Zarik has his way, Laurens will be next. They are not people you should grow relaxed around. Instead, you should be figuring out a way to undermine them. A hard enough job when you don't even fully understand why they have taken you. A boon regarding marriage from your family. Yes, but why and with who? And when. <<include "2.06.2Z">>
The thought of soaking yourself into that bath is enough to put a smile on your face. For at least right now, you will forget your circumstances. You'll forget the man known as Khan Zarik and how you are currently on a ship sailing farther away from a home that has been devastated by the royal phaizarn houses. In an hour or so, your future self will find it a burden once again on ?her_ shoulders. But at present, you will not. <<include "2.06.2Z">>
Your gaze rises, and you find yourself staring back at familiar $eyes eyes. <<if $length is "bald">>Your scalp has a few scratches and dirt splotches, no doubt from when you fell from the battlements. But beyond that, all is fine.<<elseif $length is "short">>Your hair isn't as bad as you thought it'd be, but that can be owed to the length. <<if $type is "braids">>You will need to take the braids out and then redo it, probably after you try and wash it.<<elseif $type is "dreads">>You will need to wash your dreads, but that should be all. Nothing more for now.<<else>>You will need to wash it and then comb it.<</if>><<else>>You sigh, not even wishing to take a closer look at your hair. But you do so anyway. <<if $type is "braids">>You will need to take the braids out, wash your hair, comb it as best you can, and then re-braid it. A task that your fingers have already begun to ache from.<<elseif $type is "dreads">>As far as you can see, they will not need to be re-twisted, and for that, you thank the High Gods. You need only to wash your hair.<<elseif $type is "straight" or $type is "wavy">>A good washing and then a proper comb out will do the trick. A straightforward goal.<<else>>It will be a miracle to get all of it back to its proper look. Not only a good washing and a decent combing … you chase that thought from your mind, not wishing to think any more of it. The combing alone is torture, perhaps you can skip it, and your hair will do as you ask for the first time.<</if>><</if>> <<if $beard is "medium" or $beard is "long">>You will also need to give some attention to your beard as well. A good washing and then combing out. Nothing you haven't done before.<</if>> Your $eyes eyes convey nothing but a tuckered-out expression. It isn't just a lack of sleep.The darkening circles resting against your skin are from the events of the past few days and then being thrust upon a ship headed to a land you've heard so little about. This is a lot, and though you have been trained, you have never been prepared for this. [[Glare at your reflection.|Z2.06Anger][$anger +=5]] [[Look away.|Z2.06Sad][$sad +=5]] [[Look through your own reflection.|Z2.06Numb][$numb +=5]]
A wave of indignation and frustration storms through your insides, rendering all astute thinking null for the moment. Questions you haven't asked yourself since Bane has found you and breathed renewed life onto you arise. Now, it has set in. You are going to die. The following season, the season of fire for all ironic purposes, will be the season of your fall. What did you do to deserve this? Because of the hatred of a woman that you will never meet, you are doomed to suffer what your ancestors have done. You want to scream. To throw things and to punch something. And for a minute, you even wish for Laurens' intervention. For him to appear and put you through some kind of torturous punishment for having these feelings. Pain has always been a great substitute, the one thing that takes your mind off of the true hopelessness that you find yourself suffering through. <<include "2.06.3Z">>
You compel yourself to look away before your emotions get the better of you. But even then, either you are too late, or the action itself is no better than continuing to stare on. What is it about yourself that you don't wish to observe and question? "No, stop," you warn yourself, but your mind continues to throw question after question at you. Each one hits harder and digs you into a hole that you have no hope of crawling out. //Fly out//, a sulky voice snorts, an almost prideful tune to their words as they ask the one thing you cannot do. //Face the mirror and see the worthless being that is yourself. Bane has no use for you. You are a constant disappointment to Laurens. Even your kidnappers want you for nothing more than the bloodline. But soon it will be over, one season left.// No matter how many times you try to silence the voice, it grows louder, practically screaming in your ear as it rests your anxieties in a chaotic line before you. Tears sting your eyes, and though you try to halt them, they form and fall regardless. //Even after all these years. You still haven't even learned the most basic lessons. Pathetic.// <<include "2.06.3Z">>
It takes little time, but your eyes begin to look past your reflection. What you see then, you don't rightfully know. It is blank. Everything monotone and even describing it as shades residing along a greyscale would be a lie. This is nothingness, and you feel it down to your core. There is a single light, but it withers each time you eye it. You are losing yourself, and even if you were to omit Laurens' lessons, you are lost and confused. This is not the way to go. To walk through life not feeling anything. This isn't what you want. But the nothingness cackles, finding nothing but amusement in your desires. It will continue to consume until that light is no more, and like now, you will be powerless to stop it. Like your life, time is master, and soon it will abandon you. <<include "2.06.3Z">>
Silencing your brain, you abandon your reflection and go to the tub. Removing your bandages, you sink deep into it, deeper until you physically can't … not without drowning. You have no idea how long you have been in there, and during that period, you silence your brain, not wishing to think about the problems that rest outside this room or even inside. When it's finally time to leave, you turn to the outfits that Saabiq handed off to you. One is a simple short-sleeved peasant dress, dark green in color with the corset area a light brown. Another item is a pair of dark trousers and a sleeveless vest with lacing in the front. And finally, the third is new to you. The pants are simple, dark brown capris tights. Yet the shirt or vest is not one you have seen before. It comes with an undershirt that will not cover your entire stomach, leaving the portion near the belly exposed. The sides of the sleeveless vest in the front are joined together by a simple clasp in the middle. While the back leaves some parts of the skin exposed. Similar to the front, it is bound by nothing more than a clasp, albeit it is wider and can not be undone. You reach for … [[Your previous clothes.|2.07Z][$nnc = true]] [[The dress.|2.07Z]] [[The trousers and vest.|2.07Z]] [[The odd vest and tights.|2.07Z]]
Once dressed, you leave the bathroom behind and head for the deck, just as the ship seesaws, causing you to run into the nearest wall. It takes a minute for not only your feet to remember how to work but for your paranoia to go down, and you rush forward. You reach the deck just in time to see some kind of ocean creature shift and land on the deck gracefully, followed by three others. Three of them are dressed like soldiers, their faces hidden behind helmets that give you no indication of appearance. The one figure dressed differently still appears like a soldier, just with less armor and no helmet. By all accounts, they look the same as any other phaizarn. But that doubt is quickly remedied by their tail and the fin resting on their back. Indeed, one of a sea creature, though guessing, feels like it will do you no good. The ship's guests have hardly finished their shifting when a sailor runs up to them and gives the leader a set of papers. You note the basilisk soldiers, not one of them seeming surprised by this turn of events. You even spot Khan Zarik standing off to the side, leaning on the railing, and, of course, appearing bored. "The Sea Falcon," the lead soldier speaks, their voice croaky. "House Orca," the Captain calls out, walking by with his hands extended. "Has de seas been fairin' ye well?" The soldier nods and hums, continuing to flip through the papers until you surmise that they make it to the one they are looking for. So, this is a house, a house of the sea. Bane has spoken none of them, and though you remember their existence, that is where your memory ceases. [[Seek out their help.|Z2.07Help][$zarik -=3; $timid -=3; $trouble +=5]] [[Approach but only to ask questions.|Z2.07ApproachQ][$areaknown = true; $zarik +=5]] [[Find Saabiq.|Z2.07FindSaabiq][$unit +=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Brave ++| Hellion ++</span><</if>> This group is the first house you have come across, and though your gut reminds you that no house can be trusted, you wish to take a chance on them. <<if $force gt $charisma and $force gt $stealth>>Rushing forward, you shout for their attention, half the ship turning towards you as you approach.<<elseif $stealth gt $force and $stealth gt $charisma>>You walk forward, practicing silent steps as you near them. No one has stopped you, but you take mind not to look around and draw attention either.<<else>>You walk towards them with confident steps, steps that may even befit someone of your lineage. You need to persuade them, and so while half of your attention is getting to them. The other is on what you will say.<</if>> <<if $force gt $charisma and $force gt $stealth>>\ "You must help me," you start to inform them, your eyes going towards Khan Zarik, who has begun to approach you slowly, "they have kidnapped me." The soldier stiffens and glances at Khan Zarik, who has now made it to your side and seizes your arm, "is this true?" Or at least that's what you think they ask. It is hard to make out most of their words due to their hoarseness. "?She may call it whatever ?she <<verb 'wants'>>," Khan Zarik sighs, "I was sent to retrieve a lost heir, and that is what I did." The soldier nods and gives you a look of sympathy, one that has you gazing back incredulously. "Is that it then?" "Are you of Pegasus?" "No." "Then that is it. We do not concern our-," they stop, as if trying to fight back a cough or keep themselves from vomiting, "ourselves with the issues of the land houses." <<elseif $stealth gt $force and $stealth gt $charisma>>\ You make it to their side without being stopped, all three now looking at you. "You must help me. They have kidnapped me," you inform them. Movement out the side of your peripheral pulls your eye, and you are shocked to see that Khan Zarik had already made it to your side. The soldier stiffens and glances at Khan Zarik, "is this true?" Or at least that's what you think they ask. It was hard to make out most of their words due to their hoarseness. "?She may call it whatever ?she <<verb "wants">>," Khan Zarik sighs, "I was sent to retrieve a lost heir, and that is what I did." The soldier nods and gives you a look of sympathy, one that has you gazing back incredulously. "Is that it then?" "Are you of Pegasus?" "No." "Then that is it. We do not concern our-," they stop, as if trying to fight back a cough or keep themselves from vomiting, "ourselves with the issues of the land houses." <<else>>\ You reach them and do a bow that you hope will be taken respectfully. "I am ?Princess $name $surname of House Phoenix. And these ..." you spare a glance towards an approaching Khan Zarik, "heathens, have kidnapped me." The soldier performs a stiff bow, "your Highness." Their eyes travel to Khan Zarik, "is this true?" Or at least that's what you think they ask. It is hard to make out most of their words due to their hoarseness. "?She may call it whatever ?she <<verb "wants">>," Khan Zarik sighs, "I was sent to retrieve a lost heir, and that is what I did." "As well as murder and treat me more like a prisoner than anything else. If you wish a war, then sure, continue." Khan Zarik closes his eyes, perhaps murmuring a list of curses personally for you. "You have my condo-," they stop as if trying to fight back a cough or keep themselves from vomiting, "condolences. But we do not concern ourselves with the issues of the land houses. Not unless they are Pegasus." <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.1Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
"One would think that would be common sense," Khan Zarik expresses, yanking you after him and whispering harshly in your ear, <<if $force gt $charisma and $force gt $stealth>>"and that was very stupid of you.<<elseif $stealth gt $force and $stealth gt $charisma>>"you have potential. Still, your idiotic nature overshadows it.<<else>>"a crafty tongue. If only it was commanded by a wiser mind.<</if>> Shamed!" Saabiq rushes forward, bowing his head, finding a simple spot along the speckled wooden deck to be much more intriguing than it should be. It is odd to see such an intimidating man look like such. You also note what Khan Zarik has called him. "Ari Baz put you in charge of the phoenix, did he not?" "He did, my Khan." Khan Zarik pushes you towards him, "then how about you do your job and watch ?her? If I see ?her on deck again, that will be your punishment to bear." He walks off, back towards the Captain, who speaks to him in a low voice, but there is no doubt that you are the subject of their discussion as he points violently towards you. <<if $trouble <50>>You feel another set of eyes on you, and with one inquiring glance, you figure out who, Laurens. A large smile is on his face, but he does nothing else to inform you of what he is thinking.<</if>> "Come," Saabiq speaks, "let us visit the mess. You should eat." Not one to argue when your stomach has been growling like it is, you follow behind him. <a data-passage="2.08Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Your curiosity is now piqued, and you have high doubts that you will ever get an opportunity like this again. You approach, feeling Khan Zarik's eyes on you the entire time. "Excuse me," you clear your throat, and the four ocean-based phaizarn glance towards you, "I haven't heard a lot about your kind and culture." The soldier nods to one of the three guards, and the one closest turns to you. "Ask." <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q1")>>“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”<<else>>[[“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”|Z2.07Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q2")>>“How many ocean houses are there?”<<else>>[[“How many ocean houses are there?”|Z2.07Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q3")>>“Do you come up to land often?”<<else>>[[“Do you come up to land often?”|Z2.07Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q4")>>“What is your culture like?”<<else>>[[“What is your culture like?”|Z2.07Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q5")>>“How do you communicate?”<<else>>[[“How do you communicate?”|Z2.07Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>>
"Can you breathe underwater in your primary form? How long?" "We can breathe underwater," they answer, their voice no better than their leader but a tad bit more precise, "staying above land too long pains us. Your air," they wave their hand in the air, motioning to it, "it reeks." <<if $visit is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q2")>>“How many ocean houses are there?”<<else>>[[“How many ocean houses are there?”|Z2.07Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q3")>>“Do you come up to land often?”<<else>>[[“Do you come up to land often?”|Z2.07Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q4")>>“What is your culture like?”<<else>>[[“What is your culture like?”|Z2.07Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q5")>>“How do you communicate?”<<else>>[[“How do you communicate?”|Z2.07Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"How many ocean houses are there? Do you have royal houses like we do on land?" "Four houses: Squid, Shark, Orca, and Seal. There are no other houses." "So do groups pick?" "No." Straight forward answers, yes. But that doesn't mean you don't wish they offer some kind of explanation so that you won't just continue asking question after question on the same topic for clarification. <<if $visit is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q1")>>“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”<<else>>[[“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”|Z2.07Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q3")>>“Do you come up to land often?”<<else>>[[“Do you come up to land often?”|Z2.07Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q4")>>“What is your culture like?”<<else>>[[“What is your culture like?”|Z2.07Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q5")>>“How do you communicate?”<<else>>[[“How do you communicate?”|Z2.07Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"Do you come up to the land often?" "No. We speak only to Pegasus and rare, Basilisk. The rest, not our concern." "I don't mean because of duty. I was wondering if you ever just came up to land just because you felt like it." "Why would we?" Okay. <<if $visit is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q1")>>“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”<<else>>[[“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”|Z2.07Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q2")>>“How many ocean houses are there?”<<else>>[[“How many ocean houses are there?”|Z2.07Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q4")>>“What is your culture like?”<<else>>[[“What is your culture like?”|Z2.07Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q5")>>“How do you communicate?”<<else>>[[“How do you communicate?”|Z2.07Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"What is your culture like?" "It is our culture. It is how we want it." "What does it include?" "Culture." You close your mouth and frown. The helmet is making it increasingly hard to tell whether the guard is mordant or if they genuinely do not know what you speak of and are answering to the best of their ability. <<if $visit is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q1")>>“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”<<else>>[[“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”|Z2.07Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q2")>>“How many ocean houses are there?”<<else>>[[“How many ocean houses are there?”|Z2.07Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q3")>>“Do you come up to land often?”<<else>>[[“Do you come up to land often?”|Z2.07Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q5")>>“How do you communicate?”<<else>>[[“How do you communicate?”|Z2.07Q5][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"How do you communicate?" "By using our language." "Is it with words or by using your hands?" "Hands and words." "How do you speak underwater?" "How do you speak above land?" You stare at them, and they seem to stare back. You end that specific question there. <<if $visit is 3>>\ <a data-passage="2.07.2Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q1")>>“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”<<else>>[[“Can you breathe underwater in your primary form?”|Z2.07Q1][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q2")>>“How many ocean houses are there?”<<else>>[[“How many ocean houses are there?”|Z2.07Q2][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q3")>>“Do you come up to land often?”<<else>>[[“Do you come up to land often?”|Z2.07Q3][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <<if hasVisited("Z2.07Q4")>>“What is your culture like?”<<else>>[[“What is your culture like?”|Z2.07Q4][$visit +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
"All is in order," the lead soldier whispers, handing the papers back. "You should change your path, Ship-Guider." "Why?" the Captain asks, brow raised. "Shark has increased their reach. The western coast is under their control." The soldier motions for the others to follow. You could only ask three questions, and none of them seem to wish to stay longer to answer anymore. You watch as they all dive off the side of the ship, never breaching the surface again. "Pull anchor!" the Captain screams, and once again, the deck descends into chaos as sailors move from one point to the next. "You would have gotten more answers from reading a book," someone informs you, and you turn to see Khan Zarik approaching, a glimmer in his eyes. "The lifestyle and culture of the ocean phaizarn are completely different from ours. It is almost like you going to Iseuzai and speaking to a kre." "Iseuzai?" you question, never having heard such a word before. He hums, "exactly." "Warlord," the Captain approaches, "we deckn' on de low western coast." Khan Zarik closes his eyes, taking a minute before replying, "you mean to drop us at Silent Hollow." "Aint a thing I can do. Fear de sharks, det whet we say. Low western coast," he shouts over his shoulder as he walks off. Khan Zarik follows his movements with his eyes before looking forward. He abandons your side, approaching the railing and calling another soldier to his side. Silent Hollow ... you seek out Saabiq, hoping he has answers to where you will soon find yourself. You find him about to go below deck, "Saabiq, a moment." "You should follow," he invites, "I'm visiting mess hall and you should eat." Not one to argue when your stomach has been growling like it has, you follow behind him. <a data-passage="2.08Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With no reason to stick around them, you go to find Saabiq, who has taken a seat on the ship's staircase. He offers you a small smile. <<if $noclothes>>"I suppose new clothes not to your liking?"<<else>>"New clothes look good on you. Do you like them?"<</if>> You don't answer, nodding to the newest guests, "why are they here?" "I don't know. I'm not well-versed with ocean houses and their laws of the sea." "Do you know where we're going?" "The ship?" You nod. "A port town known as Hadrood, I believe. It rests on outskirts of mesas. From there, we travel south and finally reach Banji Wetlands." He says it with a sigh of relief, the toll of the trip evident on him. "Come, the mess awaits us, and you should eat." Not one to argue when your stomach has been growling like it has, you follow behind him. <a data-passage="2.08Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
There are far more people here than you originally suspect, each sitting at wooden tables bolted to the walls. A few of those present have intermingled, basilisks speaking to the sailors as they eat, laughing and seeming to one up one another on whose tales are wilder. But the bulk stick to their own. They all ignore you and Saabiq's presence, the two of you feeling more like drifting ghosts amongst the living. Your attention lands on the food being offered, hoping that they have something that you can eat. [[You ate meat.|2.08.1Z]] [[You mainly eat fish.|2.08.1Z][$pesca = true]] [[You stuck to fruits and vegetables.|2.08.1Z][$vegan = true]]
<<if $pesca>>Lucky for you, the menu consists mostly of seafood, and most of that are items that you have tried in the past.<<elseif $vegan>>There are a few fruits but no vegetables. It is mostly just seafood, understandably. You will simply have to make do with what is offered.<<else>>Being that you eat meat, you aren't against seafood, but you wouldn't choose it first either. The thing is, you don't have many options. All of the meat available is fish, and there happens to be a few fruit options.<</if>> You make a plate and follow Saabiq to an empty table. <<if $areaknown>>\ "Saabiq," you start, "what do you know of Silent Hollow?" "It is a haunted graveyard," he tells you, "a site of a siege." "A siege?" "During Second Clan War, basilisks attacked stags. I do not know what it was called before, but one ruler, I guess, cursed area before death. Now, dead refuse to rest, and thick fog covers entire region. It is said when living passes through, they never make it out. Their own horrors eating their souls." He takes a bite of his food before inquiring, "why?" "That is our destination." He gulps, turning visibly anxious about your words. You just barely hear him whisper, "may Jaquajeh rest her eye on us." You ask nothing more, finishing your food and wondering what the near future will hold. <<else>>\ The two of you eat in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. <</if>>\ Nothing more interesting takes place. Your headache does not leave you. Instead, it evolves into a bothersome state of nausea. Each step feels like you lurch too far forward and then swing back, but your body doesn't follow, only your head. Stopping to try and right yourself does nothing either. It only prolongs the woozy feeling. Everything feels wrong. You have told yourself to go back to your room but find yourself on deck. You go to the railing but instead find yourself sitting on the stairs. After a while, you rid yourself of all orders and just exist. <a data-passage="2.09Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
You are more than happy when land appears, and the ship slows, letting you off at an empty port. The elation is so high that you don't even notice when Ari Baz and those on the second ship join you. Nor are you attentive to the general mood of those surrounding you, the silence that has descended upon every shoulder. No, you are much too happy to finally rid yourself of all that plagued you on that ship. It is not until the headache has lessened considerably do you take stock of the landscape. <<if $areaknown>>Saabiq was not kidding. Indeed a thick fog settles over the area. It stands before you like a wall, warning you that once you enter, there will be no turning back.<<else>>Before you is a wall of fog. From where you stand, it looks impenetrable, nothing beyond it visible.<</if>> "They could have not dropped us off anywhere else?" Ari Baz questions, speaking to no one in particular, but he stands beside Khan Zarik, who has been reunited with his leopard. The leopard whines, and as you look around, most of the felines look just as fearful and agitated, lying on the ground or lowering their head, their eyes wide and conveying just how anxious their new surroundings make them. Laurens stands to the other side of you, a giant frown on his face as he regards the mist. "Listen up!" Khan Zarik hollers, "from here on out, pick a partner and stay close. Do not waver. Respect this fog and its power or be destined to the fate of those you will hear within." He approaches you, "you will be with me. Ari Baz." "My Khan?" "Take the other prisoner as your partner." "It will be done." You look over at Khan Zarik upon feeling his eyes on you, and sure enough, he observes you quietly. "Are you ready?" [[Walk ahead.|Z2.09WalkAhead]] [[Nod.|Z2.09Nod]] [[Shake your head.|Z2.09ShakeHead]]
You roll your eyes in derision and walk past him and towards the mist. It is simply fog and <<if $areaknown>>Saabiq's word are just hearsay.<<else>>whatever rests within if anything does, will not harm you.<</if>> <<include "2.09.1Z">>
You nod, though you wonder if you are simply attempting to appear brave or if you indeed are. How can one ever be ready for something like this? A physical person, yes. That is something you can interact with, be it to attack or talk. This that rests before you; there is nothing you can do to harm it. Regardless, Khan Zarik leads the way, entering. <<include "2.09.1Z">>
You shake your head, wishing someone would chuckle and say that this is a joke, that there is another way. But they don't. No one says anything of the sort. "Just stay close," he tells you, walking past you and entering the far too welcoming fog. <<include "2.09.1Z">>
The fog welcomes you in like a generous host, immediately surrounding you and making sight utterly impossible. You just entered, and were already confused about which direction you came from. Everything looks familiar, a veil of mystery that doesn't wish to be discovered and will instead harm you for your inquisitiveness. "Keep walking," Khan Zarik tells you and then repeats the words louder for the benefit of others. "Why?" You don't realize you even asked the question until he answers. "It makes you harder to prey on," he glances around, Tahjeera keeping close to his side as if asking for protection, "though that means little." <<if $areaknown is false>>\ [[“What is this place?”|Z2.09WhatPlace]] <</if>>\ [[“What can I expect?”|Z2.09Expect]] [[“Have you been here before?”|Z2.09Before]] [[Ask nothing.|2.09.2Z]]
"What is this place?" "Before the extermination of House Great Stag, it was known as Alukkste, the Seat of the Wise. When the war came here, the councilor who ruled over this land used her stone to curse the land. All within were trapped, sentenced to forever wander the land searching for their greatest desire and freedom, but to never find it. And the living will suffer them until they too become trapped." "And you're saying there was no way to bypass this?" "Seeing that the captain refused, I would say no. Further in is just other problems. And following the coast wouldn't have worked either. The fog will still call to us." <<include "2.09.2Z">>
"What can I expect?" "Sounds and people mostly," he answers, "the fog will do everything it can to disorient you. The harder you fight, the more it will throw in your path." "But if I don't fight," you trail off, and he nods as he finishes your sentence. "You'll be lost anyway." <<include "2.09.2Z">>
"What you said back there, one would think you've been here before." "Because I have." You raise a brow, unable to figure out why someone would willingly come here. "So there is a way out." "Of course," he glances around, "but something tells me the fog will be cruel to someone who has already escaped once." He doesn't explain further, continuing on. <<include "2.09.2Z">>
Glancing behind you, you see Ari Baz and Laurens, and behind them, the rest of the unit. Being in the front brings you some sort of peace, even if that isn't saying much in the end. You speed up to catch up to Khan Zarik, and continue forth. <a data-passage="2.09.3Z"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Time becomes infinite. Your leg wound burns, and your body tires, feeling as if it has been walking for days on end. A shape will appear before you, and when you blink, it will be gone. And then, when you blink again, you find yourself almost running into it. There is no sky, no ground, nothing. This is what it feels like, nothing. The only thing that stays the same is Khan Zarik and Tahjeera. There used to be others behind you, but the mist has swallowed them. At times, you believe you hear them calling for help, screaming as it sounds like something tears them apart, but when you think about it, you only remember silence. No, there is no silence. There are sounds all around you. Whispers brought in by the fog, caressing your skin and inquiring why you are there. They ask for help and if you have seen specific people. They ask for you to stop so that they can speak their story. There is also something else, sounds that do not sound like people. A deep guttural croak that sounds like it's laughing at you. Running. You hear someone running, their footsteps getting louder and louder. Their breath on the back of your neck. You jump out of the way, your foot twisting, and you fall to the ground. Again, all becomes silent. Someone wails right in your ear, screaming for their mother and father. Your body stiffens … that's your voice. You look, and instead of fog or the origins of that scream, you see the sky. A clear blue sky with passing clouds that seem far too jovial for land like this. They get farther and farther away, and you realize far too late that you're falling. Falling to the ground with no way of saving yourself. [[Story End->DemoEnd]]