the bonewitch

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<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2 style="text-decoration-line: underline;">content warnings</h2></span> This game is rated 18+ for scenes including body horror, trauma, blood, drug/alcohol use, dubious consent, sexual content, and mentions of cannibalism. <center>[[➤|character creation]]</center>

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<<link '<div class="menu-item"> profile</div>' 'profile'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"> codex</div>' 'codex'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"> go back</div>'>><<run Engine.backward()>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item">restart</div>'>> <<run if (window.confirm("Restarting the game will start story from the beginning. Are you sure you want to restart?")) { Engine.restart(); }>> <</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"> settings</div>'>><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"> saves</div>'>><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</link>>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;">THE BONEWITCH / $chapter</span>

<center><h2 style="color: #EBCC78;">Profile</h2></center> <<if $wentpre5 is true>> You are $name $surname, a Bonewitch. You see yourself as a $person with $eyes and $hair. <b>Your Psyche</b><br><<if $sanity == 50>>Your mental state is healthy.<</if>><b>Your Attitude</b><br><<if $compassion == 50>>You are neither compassionate nor apathetic toward others.<</if>><<else>>Progress the story to reveal it.<</if>> <center><<link "Return to Game" $return>><</link>></center>

<<set $chapter = "">> <<set $name = "Unknown">> <<set $textbox = "textbox">> <<set $listbox = "listbox">> <<set $cycle = "cycle">> /* passage scenes */ <<set $gamechapter = "00">> <<set $wentpre2 to false>> <<set $wentpre4 to false>> <<set $wentpre6 to false>> /* relationships */ <<set $metMilena to false>> <<set $metFlorian to false>> <<set $metIhrin to false>> <<set $metVinzent to false>> <<set $reserved to ["Milena", "Florian", "Vinzent", "Vanessza", "Ihrin", "Rin", "Florica", "Daciana", "Marcel", "Juna", "Horst", "Rahel", "Inari", "Elian", "Valdis", "Kosma", "Natali", "Sigune", "Tabea", "Emanuel", "Narcy"]>> /* power lvl */ <<set $power to 0>> /* mental state */ <<set $sanity to 50>> <<set $madness to 0>> /* personality */ <<set $compassion to 50>> <<set $apathy to 0>> /* romance pref */ <<set $passive to 0>> <<set $assertive to 0>> /* Kaiserin Izyaslava */ // Audio <<cacheaudio "D00" "music/doktor.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "S00" "music/soldier.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "M00" "music/maestro.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "lantern" "music/lantern.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "saint" "music/saint.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "letter" "music/letter.mp3">> //image <<set $map to "image/map.png">>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><div id="start-title">the bonewitch</div></span> <div id="start-subtitle">by reni arden</div> <<nobr>><div id="start-menu"> <<nobr>><<if Save.autosave.ok() and Save.autosave.has()>><<button "Resume Game">><<run Save.autosave.load()>><</button>><</if>><</nobr>> <<button "New Game" "home">><<set $chapter to "00">><</button>> <<button "Load Game">><<run UI.saves();>><</button>> <<button "Settings">><<run UI.settings();>><</button>> <<button "Credits">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("credits","credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</button>> </div><</nobr>>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>Choose your Origin</h2></span>You can choose your origin. It will define your background and shape how others will percieve you. Some choices and scenes will be exclusive on your origin. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Soldier.|S origin]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Doktor.|D origin]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Maestro.|M origin]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>You are a Soldier.</h2></span></center>You joined the ranks of the Nascherein, following your mother's footsteps. And with your exceptional gift, you are soon enlisted to master your talent in combat. You learned to fight with rifle, and combat comes easily for you when it comes to summoning bones from small carcasses, shaping them to your will. A shard, a needle, or a scrying knife. <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><b>Do you wish to start with this origin?</b></span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "Yes, continue." "RO">> <<set $bg to "S">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "No, go back." "origin">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>You are a Doktor.</h2></span></center>Training under the imperial army was brutal. After countless trials, you were pushed to the brink leaving your body foreign to you. You can barely split the bones and sinew apart without breaking into a sweat. Something in your blood runs cold and it has been that way since. Instead you were taken to Ramona Thrones, a sanctuary-city, where you were trained by one of the Five Master, Kosma. Now you mend bones from the wounded and perform surgeries. <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><b>Do you wish to start with this origin?</b></span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "Yes, continue." "RO">> <<set $bg to "D">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "No, go back." "origin">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $chapter to "chapter 01">><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>Chapter 01</h2></span></center>Prayers comes in two folds. One from judgement's eyes, the other the riches. Then there is a blend of the two and it comes from the red-stained cliff of Wagenacht. And you pray to no one nowadays. Living beside the sea is brutal to your body, molding your youth away with salt and wind. You let out a soft hum as you work meticulously to hang your freshly washed clothes across the line. Then you lift your gaze, staring at the overbearing cloud with your <<cycle "$eyes">> <<option "dark brown eyes.">> <<option "hazel eyes.">> <<option "green eyes.">> <<option "blue eyes.">> <<option "gray eyes.">> <<option "black eyes.">> <</cycle>> The sun is hiding yet again. These years are not kind to you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You miss the days where you were cherished, protected. But that was only a memory now.|pre2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[They have wronged you, they always have. The mere thought of it burned in you deeply.|pre2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Your eyes squintng against the sun. You do not know how long you survive...yet here you are.|pre2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[You thin your lips, your mind drowning in possibilities still. After countless attempts, you long to escape after all these years.|pre2]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $eyes>> There is no escaping this island, you have stopped counting the times you tried to leave. At least there is plenty of food keeping you standing. Still, it feels strange that they remember you at first with imperial sailors bringing you goods and seeds to plant. You counted. Eleven years ago, no food or word came ashore. You turn your eyes away after a moment and return to work. You finish draping the clothes when the wind picks up a gull’s screech. In your years of solitude, you grow accustomed to every frog’s creak, every rustle of the grass, every sigh of the waves below. Nothing here disturbs you. Every now and then, you catch the sight of ships from a distance, their banners raised high. It is common to see merchants’ colors, rarely the imperial’s. Your body pauses, stilled as you catch a glance of a ship. A sensation presses into the back of your head, running down your neck like an unseen hand. Then your wrist burns, searing across your skin. It nearly makes you drop your arms to your side. Something is wrong. It is rare to feel a god's power humming in your veins after being dormant for so long. You <<cycle "$temper">> <<option "bit the bottom of your lips">> <<option "squeezed your eyes shut">> <<option "clenched your fingers to a fist">> <</cycle>>, trying to numb the pain. <i>This is not working,</i> you thought. You stumbled sideways, pressing a hand to your chest as if to hold your heart in place. Your $eyes swept across ruggled terrain. There, a lone ship appeared, cutting across the sea. Not a single color or banner fluttered from its mast. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Without giving much thought, you climb up the hill to your weathered cottage. |pre3.1]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[You carry on with the chores, casting a wary glance toward the sea.|pre3.20]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t help but stare at the ship. Gears turned in your mind as you craned your head to see farther.|pre3.20]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

With the door slammed shut, you can only imagine if things had gone differently. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your heart. Out of all things, why now? There is solace in your simple furnished room. A cot just left of the fireplace and uneven table in the center. In front of the cot sits an oak-carved chest though it barely holds much of clothes you own. Pushing back your <<cycle "$hairlength">> <<option "short">> <<option "ear-length">> <<option "shouder-length">> <<option "long">> <</cycle>> hair from your eyes, you move closer to the table, fingers brushing over the small bronze-cast box before prying it open. It was your mother’s. Yet you are not sure how it came to your possession. You shake the thought away while you broke off the stem from edelune leaves. Pinching the leaves between the index and middle fingers, you carry it toward the fireplace. You then extend your hand into the heat until the leaves catch. It give off the sweet smelling fragrance you love so much. Just as the leaves is quick to catch fire, it is quick to dampen, leaving nothing but smoke curling upwards. Pressing the leaves underneath your tongue, you crawl onto the cot, discarding your <<cycle "$clothes">> <<option "plain blue dress">> <<option "brown tunic with loose trousers">> <</cycle>> to the side. Heaviness weighs you down as your eyes drifts shut. <i>Why not?</i> You laugh at the thought of it. The same thought that plagued inside you. You almost see yourself in that distant past: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <i>Set your gender.</i> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A boy with blood in his fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.11">> <<set $gender to "male">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A girl with blood in her fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.11">> <<set $gender to "female">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A child with blood in their fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.11">> <<set $gender to "person">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

watch the ship for a while then come down to the shore <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.21]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

A faint thud whispers at the back of your head. It hammers louder. Your head swims. A sharp banging on the door snaps your eyes open. You cover your ears with your arms, flipping your body to the side as if you are pulling away from the noise. But <i>prophets</i>, it's insistent. Unable to stand it, you sit upright, swinging your legs off the cot to find your footing. Your eyes sweep across the room, only to find it was dark. Moonlight seeps from the window, and you wonder how long you have been asleep. Searching through the dark, you... <<nobr>> <div class="choices"> <<link "<div class='choice-item'>hastily threw on an outer coat before opening the door.</div>">> <<set $choice to "hastily threw on an outer coat before opening the door">> <<goto "pre4">> <</link>> <<link "<div class='choice-item'>then give up, silently cursing at yourself and the wicked door. Storming toward it, you swing it open.</div>">> <<set $choice to "then give up, silently cursing at yourself and the wicked door. Storming toward it, you swing it open">> <<goto "pre4">> <</link>> <<link "<div class='choice-item'>take your merry time to dress yourself. After all you have all the time in the world. Giving yourself a once over, you finally open the door.</div>">> <<set $choice to "take your merry time to dress yourself. After all you have all the time in the world. Giving yourself a once over, you finally open the door">> <<goto "pre4">> <</link>> </div> <</nobr>>

<<set $wentpre5 to true>><<notify>>profile unlocked<</notify>>"What's the meaning of this?" You demand as your fingertips brush along the side of the chained collar. There is a slight hum against your skin, sending small jolts. You quickly withdraw from the mechanism, and instead turning your eyes at the $i_person. "Precautionary measures." $i_HeShe says dryly. Wearing the collar was like a second skin to you. It was strange to reunite with it so easily. You wore it once while at the dungeons, now it had found you. You deemed it unnecessary, it had been so long that you had forgotten to use your power. "You never explained why you are here, being so eager to pluck me from the island." $i_name shook $i_hisher head. "If we had the time, I could. But now, you are wasting time away. Rhosa, if you could be so kind..." $i_HeShe gestured to the mousy girl. Frowning, you lift your head, parting your mouth slightly to taste the air. Trying to crack the shell of the $i_person who called $i_name. You do not feel the harsh fire lapping across your wrist nor sense $i_person carrying magus blood. It was then you feel a hand pressing against your back when you feel your wrist searing. <i>Of course.</i> You draw a defeated sigh. You detest how the ghostly touch persists in your memory, only to mold itself anew. Alas, curiousity makes you look behind, seeing a girl grinning at you. She looks mousy and her chipped teeth does not fare any better. Not older than sixteen, you persume. “Answer me this, $i_name,” you say, $i_hisher name lingering upon your lips. “I have but one question, surely there is time enough for one?” The $i_person watches you, long enough that you imagine light played in $i_hisher eyes. Seemingly curious. $i_HeShe answers with a single raised finger. Your eyes close, feeling your existence...heard. <i>If death should claim me, at least let me depart with meaning.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre6]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<<notify>>relations unlocked<</notify>><<set $metIhrin to true>><<nobr>> <<if $choice == "hastily threw on an outer coat before opening the door">> You peer around the door, leaving you enough room to see outside. The stranger does not notice you at first so you clear your throat. You raise a brow as the stranger straightens the coat before lowering their bicorn hat, nodding. <</if>> <<if $choice == "then give up, silently cursing at yourself and the wicked door. Storming toward it, you swing it open">> You come face to face with a stranger. The stranger immediately looks away, face flushing while lowering their bicorn hat. You almost smirk at the sight. <</if>> <<if $choice == "take your merry time to dress yourself. After all you have all the time in the world. Giving yourself a once over, you finally open the door">> "Yes?" You say, raising a brow at the stranger. <</if>> <</nobr>> "Well met, you must be $name." The stranger says, quickly recovering from the ordeal. "I am $i_name Czerniak, imperial knight of House Rechigl." You face $i_name. <i>House Rechigl?</i> You wonder if it has any connection to the ship you saw earlier that morning. It must be. Yet this carries fear and relief on your shoulders. Questions burrow underneath your skin and your face shows it. $i_name peers at you once more. "You must have questions." <i>Of course.</i> But you slowly answer $i_himher with a nod. The $i_person tightens $i_hisher mouth, hands still holding onto the hat. "I'm afraid I cannot, time requires haste." $i_HeShe says. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Before you can speak, a faint click appears from your neck.|pre5]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h1>Codex</h1></span></center><<if $wentchp1 is true>> <img src="$map"> <h2> THE MAGIC</h2> There are two orders of Magus: the Summoners and Speakers, following closely to the dichotomy of the twin gods. <b>Order of The Summoners</b> They specalized in physical matter of magic. Their rankings are: <li><b>Sun Magus</b>: Specalize in drawing power from the sun, the highest of order. The most experienced can cause a phenomenon called the White Sun. </li> <li><b>Knochenruva</b>: Known to harness bones from carcasses and small game. </li> <li><b>Rothruva</b>: Magus who controls blood, bile, and other body humors. They are most seen as healers or medics. </li> <li><b>Sturmkraft</b>: Manipulate wind and storm.</li> <b>Order of The Speakers</b> They specalized in psyche matter of magic. Their rankings are: <li><b>Moon Magus</b>: Manipulate power from the moon, the highest of order. The most experienced can cause a phenomenon called the Black Moon. </li> <li><b>Seher</b>: Control dreams and memories. The experienced can travel to the past or conjure spirits.</li> <li><b>Körpesveit</b>: Can alter own bodies to the corporeal state, sometimes phasing through physical matter. The experienced can summon monsterous creatures from another dimension known as Variants.</li> <</if>> <center><<link "Return to Game" $return>><</link>></center>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h1>Relations</h1></span></center> <<if $metIhrin is true>><center><h3>Ihrin</h3></center>$i_name is a $i_person with sleek, shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes. With a tall stature and hooked nose, $i_HeShe carries $i_himself with discipline as an imperial guard. <<if $loverIhrin is true>> You are currently lovers. <<elseif $closeIhrin is true>> You are both growing closer. <<else>> You are both strangers. <</if>><</if>> <<if $metFlorian is true>><<if $f_gender is "male">><center><h3>Florian</h3></center>$f_name is a near blind $f_person with silver, wavy hair reaching his hips, bearing pale skin and shapely mouth of a godling. He is ranked among the Arkanists as a powerful Bloodwitch.<<elseif $f_gender is "female">><center><h3>Florica</h3></center>$f_name is a near blind $f_person with silver, wavy hair reaching her hips, bearing pale skin and shapely mouth of a godling. She is ranked among the Arkanists as a powerful Bloodwitch.<<else>><center><h3>Florian</h3></center>$f_name is a near blind $f_person with silver, wavy hair reaching their hips, bearing pale skin and shapely mouth of a godling. They are ranked among the Arkanists as a powerful Bloodwitch. <</if>> <<if $loverFlorian is true>> You are currently lovers. <<elseif $closeFlorian is true>> You are both growing closer. <<else>> You are both strangers. <</if>><</if>> <<if $metMilena is true>><center><h3>Milena</h3></center>Milena is a woman with silky, smooth brown hair that falls to her waist when it is not adorned with a headdress. Her hazel eye is sharp while half of her face is hidden behind a silver mask. You know all too well that it hides the scars you left years ago. <<if $loverMilena is true>> You are currently lovers. <<elseif $closeMilena is true>> You are both growing closer. <<else>> You are both strangers once more. <</if>> <</if>> <center><<link "Return to Game" $return>><</link>></center>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>Choose your Romancable Options</h2></span></center>You will meet 4 romancable interests. Select your romance options’ genders. <b>Milena</b> will be genderlocked as female. <<set $m_gender to "female">> <b>Florian/Florcia</b> <<listbox "$f_gender" autoselect>> <<option "Male" "male">> <<option "Female" "female">> <<option "Nonbinary" "nonbinary">> <</listbox>> <b>Ihrin</b> <<listbox "$i_gender" autoselect>> <<option "Male" "male">> <<option "Female" "female">> <</listbox>> <b>Vinzent/Vanessza</b> <<listbox "$v_gender" autoselect>> <<option "Male" "male">> <<option "Female" "female">> <</listbox>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Begin story.|lettertest]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $name to "$name">> <<set $person to "man">> <<set $heshe to "he">> <<set $HeShe to "He">> <<set $himher to "him">> <<set $hisher to "his">> <<set $himself to "himself">> <<elseif $gender is "female">> <<set $person to "woman">> <<set $heshe to "she">> <<set $HeShe to "She">> <<set $himher to "her">> <<set $hishers to "hers">> <<set $himself to "herself">> <<else>> <<set $person to "person">> <<set $heshe to "they">> <<set $himher to "them">> <<set $HeShe to "They">> <<set $hisher to "their">> <<set $hishers to "theirs">> <<set $himself to "themself">> <</if>><</nobr>><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2 style="text-decoration-line: underline;">Eleven years ago</h2></span>You stared at the grim sight, your stomach twisted as you lurched back, panting. As the haze thinned, your thoughts became your own again as strands of your <<cycle "$hair">> <<option "dark brown hair">> <<option "light brown hair">> <<option "strawberry blonde hair">> <<option "platnium blonde hair">> <<option "black hair">> <<option "silver hair">> <</cycle>> plastered against your face. A cacophony of voices spun in your head as it only grew louder. A heavy door swung open behind you making you jump. "$name..." Someone was calling you. You looked down. Your hands were stained red, skin digging into the jagged pieces of the rat's bones.The world spun before you and you found yourself staring at the ceiling. A croak clawed its way up your throat as your name stained your ears again. Your chest heaves as you try to stand upright as your gaze caught on the body ahead. She was the same age as you, her eyes staring straight at you, soaked in grief and blood. Her small hands trembled as they reached for you. A hand grabbed on your shoulders, forcing you up. You screamed, heels digging into the ground as you thrashed against the hand that dragged you forward. "It's me." A tender, familar voice brushed close to you. Your body froze again, your blood racing against your eyes. You felt a hand release, then gently stroking your $hair. "It's me." "Mutti," you leaned against her warmth, burying your head against her dress. "What's happening—" "There's no time, come." Your mother urged, tugging your forearm again. Your head tilted upward, gazing at her eyes. You remembered her eyes, the same shade as yours. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp talon scraped around your neck, yanking you backward.|pre3.12]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

"Mama!" Your eyes blurred in pain as your legs kicked nothing but air. You wailed, desperately clinging on. You hear footsteps off to the side but stopped short with a low groan. "$name, fret not, my $name." Your mother said from a distance. Your eyes met, and mother was grinning with red teeth. The hand squeezed tighter around your neck while something shifted at the corner of your eyes. The air shimmered and the mist that enshoured the figure stepped into view. A man materialized out of thin air, his face still covered by the heavy red cloak of his. The sight of him made you stopped resisting. You fell quiet and you felt the room was too. <i>Körpesveit</i>. And he was not the only one as there were others like him were lined up along the aisle beside the wooden pews. The man, wordless, stepped aside to bow toward the arch doorway. You stole a glance, too, seeing the well-endowed woman retreating to the exit. Her lush purple gown decorated with gold and white cape. In her arms, she carried the child. Her steps were slow and deliberate as if she wanted every eyes trained on her to bow. Despite your lungs fought for the air, you could hear their mumurs from a distance. "...Have you made a decision?" The man beside you spoke. The empress halted, tilting her head ever so slightly to glance back. Her gaze bore onto you then your mother. Her arms were restrained behind her by the two Körpesveit, and her head hung forward as she knelt on the floor. Her eyes rested on your mother, a sad smile played across her ruby lips. The bloodied girl on her arms, hiccuped, lifting her head up but the woman absentmindedly patted the back of her head. In a long draw of silence, the empress found your eyes, unreadable. You tried to look away, ignoring the red blossoming across the woman's sashes. "Bring $himher to death." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[A shadow passed over you, and your mind went silent.|pre3.13]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

You could not remember how much time has passed since you first awoken in the cell. You were still wearing your old clothes as you looked around your surroundings. A sweet scent filled your nose, loosening your shoulders. You parted your mouth, trying to taste more of it. You giggled. It tasted like nectar, no, burning incense. As you tried to make sense of it, a sliver of light spilled across the ground, distracting you from your thoughts. "The child's in here," you heard the warden gruffed from above and more hushed whispers descended to the stairs. Before you knew it, a red-garbed figure approached to your cell. Your legs kicked, pushing you away from the stranger. Terror gripped your blood as you cried out. "Peace, my child." A quiet chuckle came from the robed stranger. <<if $bg is "H">>You almost jumped the moment, unable to hold in your squeak. "Master Kosma?" You quickly rubbed your eyes as if it was playing tricks on you. Did he came here to rescue you? Though you don't remember much of why you were here. There are some fragments that still lingered in your memory. "I'm afraid not, but you may not know me well. I am a friend of your mentor." <<elseif $bg is "A" or "C">>You said nothing, shifting warily.<</if>> The figure then sighed before pulling down the cloak, revealing a woman wearing a tight bun. Even under the dim candlelights, you can see her eyes was molded with years of experience. "You may call me Master Natali, or in here, without outside's ears, Natali." <<if $bg is "H">>Master Natali. You heard from your mentor that she was one of the Five Masters that served the Ramona Thrones. During your time there, you came across her from time to time when she was not travelling across the country. Though after all, you have spent most of your life travelling with Master Kosma.<</if>> Lost in your thoughts, you could only nod. You flinched at the sound of the screeching pull of the cell door. You watched wide eyed as Natali nodded at the warden. "Thank you," she smiled but the warden took no notice and left in a huff. You shook your head when she extended her hand. Your eyes darted nervously. It must be a trap...and your mother. Milena. Your mind was in torment as you slowly picked up the pieces. Milena was there. You were there. Her body in a twisted heap, choking on her own blood. <<if $bg is "A">>Your hands tried to pry off the bone shards from her body, muttering prayers to near frenzy. You worked until your arms became sore and your palms were stained. In black, in silver, in gold. Then red. An endless cycle as you could only watch her eyes fading.<</if>> "$name?" You heard Natali's voice, forcing you out from your reverie. Natali seemed to notice the change in your demeanor then drew her arm to the side. "You must have a lot of questions but I can only tell you this: the empress is pardoning you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.14a]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

You did not question her. Or perhaps you did. It did not matter at the end as you could only remember you fingers gripping against the priest's warm hands. You were walking, no, dragged. It was hard to tell where you were heading with the moon was shrouded behind the clouds. The air never felt sweet leaving the dungeon, but now you’re pressed into a confined space called the carriage. You looked warily at her, feeling every jolt of the wheels underneath. You were pardoned. You were spared. By seventh daybreak, you tasted the saltiness and the breeze. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

first ihrin appearance, talk about exile being lifted <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.22]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

ask ihrin a couple questions, mostly add in mc height and set up relationship booster, and open up relations tab <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.23]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<<notify>>relations unlocked<</notify>><<set $metIhrin to true>> more exposition, get on the ship with ihrin You take a deep breath, trying to calm your heart. Out of all things, why now? <i>Why not?</i> You laugh at the thought of it. The same thought that plagued inside you. You almost see yourself in that distant past: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A boy with blood in his fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.14b">> <<set $gender to "man">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A girl with blood in her fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.14b">> <<set $gender to "woman">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "A child with blood in their fingertips. Eyes vacant of life." "pre3.14b">> <<set $gender to "person">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

<h2>Five years ago</h2> You stared at the grim sight, your stomach twisted as you lurched back, panting. As the haze thinned, your thoughts became your own again as strands of your <<cycle "$hair">> <<option "dark brown hair">> <<option "light brown hair">> <<option "strawberry blonde hair">> <<option "platnium blonde hair">> <<option "black hair">> <<option "silver hair">> <</cycle>> plastered against your face. A caccophny of voices spun in your head as it only grew louder. A heavy door swung open behind you making you jump. "$name..." Someone was calling you. You looked down. Your hands were stained red, skin digging into the jagged pieces of the rat's bones.The world spun before you and you found yourself staring at the ceiling. A croak clawed its way up your throat as your name stained your ears again. “Stop… please, stop…” You muttered, trying to stand upright as your gaze caught on the body ahead. She was the same age as you, her eyes staring straight at you, soaked in grief and blood. Her small hands trembled as they reached for you. A hand grabbed on your shoulders, forcing you up. You screamed, heels digging into the ground as you thrashed against the hand that dragged you forward. "$name! It's me." A tender, familar voice brushed close to you. Your body froze again, your blood racing against your eyes. You felt a hand release, then gently stroking your $hair. "It's me." "Mutti," you leaned against her warmth, burying your head against her dress. "There's no time, come." Your mother urged, tugging your forearm again. Your head tilted upward, gazing at her eyes. You remembered her eyes, the same shade as yours. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp talon scraped around your neck, yanking you backward. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.15b]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

Your legs kicked nothing but air as you wailed, desperately clinging on. The hand squeezed tighter around your neck while something shifted at the corner of your eyes. The air shimmered and the mist that enshoured the figure stepped into view. A man materialized out of thin air, his face still covered by the heavy red cloak of his. The sight of him made you stopped resisting. You fell quiet and you felt the room was too. <i>A Death Speaker</i>. And he was not the only one as there were others like him were lined up along the aisle beside the wooden pews. The man, wordless, stepped aside to bow toward the arch doorway. You stole a glance, too, seeing the well-endowed woman retreating to the exit. Her lush purple gown decorated with gold and white cape. In her arms, she carried the child. Her steps were slow and deliberate as if she wanted every eyes trained on her to bow. Despite your lungs fought for the air, you could hear their mumurs from a distance. "...Have you made a decision?" The man beside you spoke. The empress halted, tilting her head ever so slightly to glance back. Her gaze bore onto you then your mother. Her arms were restrained behind her by the two Death Speakers, and her head hung forward as she knelt on the floor. Her eyes rested on your mother, a sad smile played across her ruby lips. The bloodied girl on her arms, hiccuped, lifting her head up but the woman absentmindedly patted the back of her head. In a long draw of silence, the empress found your eyes. "Bring her to death." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Your heart sank as your ears filled with screams.|pre3.16b]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

You could not remember how much time has passed since you first awoken in the cell. You were still wearing <<cycle "$clothes">> <<option "plain blue dress,">> <<option "brown tunic with loose trousers,">> <<option "faint green robe,">> <</cycle>> as you looked around your surroundings. A sweet scent filled your nose, loosening your shoulders. You parted your mouth, trying to taste more of it. You giggled. It tasted like nectar, no, burning incense. As you tried to make sense of it, a sliver of light spilled across the ground, distracting you from your thoughts. "The child's in here," you heard the warden gruffed from above and more hushed whispers descended to the stairs. Before you knew it, a red-garbed figure approached to your cell. Your legs kicked, pushing you away from the stranger. Terror gripped your blood as you cried out. "Peace, my child." A quiet chuckle came from the robed stranger. <<if $bg is "H">>You almost jumped the moment, unable to hold in your squeak. "Master Kosma?" You quickly rubbed your eyes as if it was playing tricks on you. Did he came here to rescue you? Though you don't remember much of why you were here. There are some fragments that still lingered in your memory. "I'm afraid not, but you may not know me well. I am a friend of your mentor." <<elseif $bg is "A" or "C">>You said nothing, shifting warily.<</if>> The figure sighed before pulling down the cloak, revealing a woman wearing a tight bun. Even under the flickering candlelights, you can see her eyes was molded with years of experience. "You may call me Master Natali, or in here, without outside's ears, Natali." <<if $bg is "H">>Master Natali. You heard from your mentor that she was one of the Five Masters that served the Ramona Thrones. During your time there, you came across her from time to time when she was not travelling across the country. Though after all, you have spent most of your life travelling with Master Kosma.<</if>> Lost in your thoughts, you could only nod. You flinched at the sound of the screeching pull of the cell door. You watched wide eyed as Natali nodded at the warden. "Thank you," she smiled but the warden took no notice and left in a huff. You shook your head when she extended her hand. Your eyes darted nervously. It must be a trap...and your mother. Milena. Your mind was in torment as you slowly picked up the pieces. Milena was there. You were there. Her body in a twisted heap, choking on her own blood. <<if $bg is "A">>Your tiny hands tried to pry off the bone shards from her body, muttering prayers to near frenzy. You worked until your arms became sore and your palms were stained. In black, in silver, in gold. Then red. An endless cycle as you could only watch her eyes fading.<</if>> "$name?" You heard Natali's voice, forcing you out from your reverie. Natali seemed to notice the change in your demeanor then drew her arm to the side. "You must have a lot of questions but I can only tell you this. The empress is sparing you from death." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.17b]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

same scene as pre3.14a <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre3.18b]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

more scenes with ihrin and crew <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre5]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>Choose Your Name</h2></span> <<textbox "$name" "" "origin">><<set $name = $name>> <span style="color: #EBCC78;"> [[Next.|origin]]</span> Or you can select a name of your choosing below. <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h3>Masculine Names</h3></span><<link "Johann" "origin">><<set $name = "Johann">><</link>> <<link "István" "origin">><<set $name = "István">><</link>> <<link "Marek" "origin">><<set $name = "Marek">><</link>> <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h3>Feminine Names</h3></span><<link "Erzsébet" "origin">><<set $name = "Erzsébet">><</link>> <<link "Katarzyna" "origin">><<set $name = "Katarzyna">><</link>> <<link "Sybilla" "origin">><<set $name = "Sybilla">><</link>> <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h3>Gender-neutral Names</h3></span><<link "Hanne" "origin">><<set $name = "Hanne">><</link>> <<link "Gabi" "origin">><<set $name = "Gabi">><</link>> <<link "Adrien" "origin">><<set $name = "Adrien">><</link>>

Changing out of your stale clothes, you take your time to redress. Part of you hope you can still fit into them, but it’s a struggle though you <<cycle "$height">> <<option "grew much taller">> <<option "grew taller">> <<option "grew slightly taller">> <<option "remained the same height">> <</cycle>> over the years, the coarse fabric brushes against your skin. It’s far from fine quality, but you can't complain. You weren't raised in luxury growing up. To your luck, the $fit somehow fits your body, if not a bit snug around the shoulders. As you step outside your room, you find your mother standing while Milena sits, their conversation interrupted the moment she notices you. Milena's brows furrow in confusion, and looks up, gray eyes unreadable for a second before her smile widens. "Good morrow," you greet them, smiling back though strained. You stop yourself from shuffling your feet or to cough, aware that you have seemingly interrupted their conversation. When they return the greeting, you choose to <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[sit at a lone chair, far away from them.|chp1.2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[sit on a chaise directly in front of Milena.|chp1.2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[stand beside mother.|chp1.2]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[rather stand, umoving.|chp1.2]]</div> <</nobr>>

<timed 4s t8n>><span class="game-start-timed"> CHAPTER ONE</span><</timed>> <<cont>><<goto 'chp 1'>><</cont>>

Time crawled into a halt when the red cliffs of the island came to be. Your mind stilled as the waves lapped beside the ship like hungry dogs. You were there for a reason, <i>sent</i> for a reason. You were only holding onto hope, clinging beside the priest. A hand reached out, a comforting touch. But it was not enough. Terror only grew in your mind the moment the sailors hurled the anchor toward the sea. Time ceased to exist as you stared at your leather boots, you refused to look anywhere but the clamors of the sailors hauling chests to the shore. " <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|pre1]]</div> <</nobr>>

Your gaze inclined toward the road winding into Criviek District. Not far away, the Grand Mosprue Church came to view. The curious mumurs of the church-goers distracted you but soon dissolved as you heard a clear of a throat. It came from your mother. You hadn't realize the carriage long stopped. "Come now, we are far beyond late." She smiled softly as the door to the carrige opened. You minded your footing as she helped you from the carriage, landing on the cobbletones beside her. You were accompanying your mother, herself acting as chaperone to the young empress’s siblings. You haveg glimsed the empress once or twice now, most of came from your mother's words. Kaiserin Izyaslava

You snap wide awake as your skull rattle against the carriage. Blinking away the tiredness, you adjust your body. You see Milena smirking at you before she gingerly lifts the veiled curtains, pulling to the side. "Look, we're entering the city." She says to no one in particular. You look. The carriage is following the road into Criviek District. You can tell by reading the sign as it passes. Also there's a bridge, and your mother has stated so. Not far away, the Grand Mosprue Church came to view. "I think we are past the city's markers, <i>nuvahund</i>." A throat clears in front of you. You cast a sheepish look at your mother and mumble in some form of "sorry." You hear Milena's giggle and your mother look distraught. "Forgive us, my lady." Your mother bows her head. "It is fine," Milena dismiss with a wave of her gloved hand. She is dressed well, wearing a light blue gown with ruffled sleeves. She turns to you, grinning. "It seems so." The curious murmurs of the church-goers distracts you but soon dissolve as the view comes to a halt. "Come now, we are beyond late." Mother sighs as the door to the carriage opens. You mind your footing as a footman helps you from the carriage, landing on the cobbletones. You are accompanying your mother, herself acting as chaperone to the young empress’s younger sister. Though you grew up with Milena, you only glimsped the empress once or twice now, most of came from your mother's encounters. Prinzessin Izyaslava the II came from Lesanpolysk, a country southwest of the border, was rumored for her terrible beauty. Her terrible beauty was what caused a strife between the noble suitors and the eyes of the Kaiserin. In the end, she bore the title of Kaiserin. Your eyes look around, nearly stiffening a laugh as you notice the people's disappointment as they find you and mother were not the empress. "I thought we were late, mama.” You lean to your mother, whispering. You are growing fast, almost matching your mother's height, hardly sixteen years old. Mother narrows her eyes at you and it says: <i>now is not the right time.</i> You thin your lips in response. "Presenting Lady Milena of House Voryev!" A herald announce over the crowd. As Milena graciously accepts the footman’s hand, another wave of clamor rose from the crowd. It is less a second when you come to understand the cheers are not for her. You snap your head toward the commotion. Another horse-drawn carriage comes to a stop, lining up behind Milena’s. <i>Two horses, it must be someone important.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|04]]</div> <</nobr>>

Lady Milena has not move an inch even after her brother went inside. You cautiously glance at her. She, like the crowd, is searching. The empress had not arrived still. Your mother has other plans. She gently lean in to whisper to Milena's ears. Her eyes blink, shifting. Nodding curtly at your mother, Milena climbs the stairs, forcing the same greeting to the godling. Greed remains passive to her and your mother, and soon, it is your turn. You bow deeply at the godling, lightly pressing two fingers to each of your collarbones. You dare not to look while you hurry inside. Once your eyes adapt to the dimly lit expanse, there are rows of pews extending across the room. Among the pews, people begin to fill the seats, some already praying, others chatter. A few notice Lady Milena but their attention are moreso towards your mother. Their gazes widen and whisper amongst themselves, curiosity stirring in their bones. It is hard to ignore it, every magus had the ability to sense emotions in some way and some were better than others. You can feel some of it lingering inside you, the wristbones humming in tune. A sense of pride blossoms from your chest after failing to contain it. Your mother was a powerful magus. You eventually ignore out their emotions, focusing your attention elsewhere. Far into the room, there is towering, marbled sculpture with golden cracks across its surface, a rather popular depiction of the hunger god. The rendition is beautiful as you step closer to the statue. In Zeimar beliefs, the gods always shaped the divine and mundane, their domains spreading across the land. As for you, you find yourself praying to Varyesein. <<nobr>> <div class="choices"><div class="choice-item"> [[Next.|06]] </div> </div> <</nobr>>

Slowly, you reopen your eyes, only to find Lady Milena watching you intentively. Your mother is a couple steps behind her, silent. "What is it?" You quietly say. "You looked like you have something to say." She pauses, searching for words. "Nothing," she says at long last. Her hands fidget, her eyes darting to the site. To your left. You follow the line of sight, then saw Lord Artem off to the side, chatting with a few nobles. They are laughing, their conversation seem animated. "You should talk to him while we wait for the empress." You say. "I do not know if I could." Milena interupts, her eyes still on her brother before turning to yours. "It seems we are world's apart, my sister, too. It feels so strange here. I missed home, I missed <i>rodnoy dom</i>." You are compelled to say something, blinking at how much she was splling her words. Hesitating, you lift a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "How long has it been—" A ear-screeching howl sent a jolt to your body, clenching your shoulders. A noble lady is the culprit, and you are <<cycle "$reaction">> <<option "interested in what made her laugh.">> <<option "horrified that one laughter could be so appalling.">> <<option "amused by the whole ordeal, smirking as the near-goers utter their annoyance at the noble lady.">> <<option "quite speechless. By the prophets, it is loud.">> <</cycle>> She angled her body close to Lord Artem but keep distance. It would be improper to be in close proximity with an unwedded gentleman. <i>Or is he married?</i> You think, it is difficult to keep up with the court. "Ah, that's Lady Sofia." She pointed out with a matter of fact. "Tyoma is to wed her soon." <i>Oh.</i> It was quite common after all but why had you felt the strange hollowness settling in the pits of your stomach? Your mind seemed to play tricks on you again, hearing her sigh. But you dared not to pry as you watched her wrist flicked sharply, opening her fan. Her eyes narrowed yet distant. There was slight hum in the air, trumpets sounding as the herald cried once more. All attention swept toward the entrance as the emperor and empress entered. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You quietely showed your respect by bowing.|07]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[You quietely showed your respect by curtsying.|07]]</div> <</nobr>>

<center><span style="color: #EBCC78;"><h2>You are a Maestro.</h2></span></center>You have a talent for songwriting after accompanying the band of minstrels. However, your merry companions eventually dispersed for various reasons. As for you, you returned to the imperial palace, residing at your mother's apartment. As a maestro, you learned to speak multiple tongues, even languages from the bygone era. Despite of having no fighting prowess, your instrument became an extension of your body. You could feel every strum of the strings and bones, channeling them through your voice. <span style="color: #EBCC78;"><b>Do you wish to start with this origin?</b></span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "Yes, continue." "RO">> <<set $bg to "M">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "No, go back." "origin">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

This is the end of the demo for now. Follow my dev blog (thebonewitch-if.tumblr.com) for updates and more content. If you encounter a bug or have questions, please let me know.

You rejoined your mother while Milena sat beside Artem, a couple pews in front of you. The emperor and empress stood before the god’s shrine. The room lay hushed, the nobles seated with bowed heads and clasped hands. Closing your eyes, you bowed your head until it kissed the wooden bench. Your body relaxed, and soon enough you catch a hint of aroma, some fragrence drifting in the air. It blanketed over you as your ears picked up a low timbre of a voice. It settled in the depths of mind, lodging in every crevice it could find. You struggled to pull away but ghostly talons held you tight. Faint gold appeared in the back of your eyelid, spreading across the dark. <i>Do not struggle, my child.</i> Your body contorted, your lungs struggled to cling to air. The talons were not spreading down your throat, latching on your stomach to feed, to consume. A sound then came out from you, whispering the name of your god. <i>I am afraid he cannot hear you in here, but he is watching.</i> Then a pair of cold hands clasped onto yours. You half winced, trying to reopen your eyes. But couldn't. <i>You will face these four deaths in your lifetime. Now pray tell, which god do you truly worship?</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|08]]</div> <</nobr>>

With the last drop of strength, you forced out a sound. A word. Whatever you could to breathe the air that was drowning you. <i>I am devoted to $god with my flesh and bone.</i> Seconds, then minutes passed. And the voice released you. "$name, are you feeling unwell? Can you hear me?" Your mother's voice pulled you from your state. You stared widely at her, not realizing how your fingers gripped tighly on the fabrics of her dress. "I-I heard..." It felt like lead on your tongue, and it sounded not quite right. "I know, I heard them, too." Your mother leaned in to embrace you, pulling you close. "Greed hears and sees all. A blessing guised as a curse. Now, stay here, while I gather Lady Milena." Questions, and more questions surged to the tip of your throat. But your mother was already moving. Left alone, you stood frozen as the people were leaving the catherdral, but some had stayed for important matters especially with the Kaiser still around. Beside him was Lady Sofia who was smiling while the nobles laughed with her. You searched the crowd and did not find the Kaiserin, too. While your mind is trying to decide if you should look for Milena, you see the young lord again. It seem this time, Artem, is alone. You can hardly breathe as his face is even prettier up close even with his stark black wig cascading in tight ringlets on the sides, ending it with a ribbon to tie his hair in place. "Lord Artem!" You finally manage a squeak. He does not respond at first as if he is testing you if you will say anything else. When you struggle to come up with words, one of the corners of his mouth tugs upward. “Interesting. I'm not expecting my sister to drag you here,” he says, “And you are $name…” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <i>Choose your surname.</i> <div class="choice-item">[["...Rehn? A rather ancient lineage of magus, older than the first Rechigl. I think it suits you." He notes. |09][$surname to "Rehn"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[["...Falkenthal, is it not?" He finish as he ponder you closely. "But I don't recall seeing you in court along the other nobles."|09][$surname to "Falkenthal"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[["...Sykas. A clever name for a clever magus." His eyes wander toward your face, smirking. |09][$surname to "Sykas"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[["...Nowak." His voice solemn before his eyes refocuses. |09][$surname to "Nowak"]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<if $surname is "Rehn">>You felt uneasy as if he knew something beyond your reach. You steeled yourself and nodded. "It is my name, and name only."<</if>><<if $surname is "Falkenthal">>You felt uneasy as if he knew something beyond your reach. To your luck, Artem was not interested to delve further, and you mentally sighed a relief. You dreaded having to explain your bloodline as a bastard of a late noble.<</if>><<if $surname is "Sykas">>"Aye, it is my name." You said plainly.<</if>><<if $surname is "Nowak">>You frowned at his comment, not liking how it sounded in your ears.<</if>> "You must have done research." "I came prepared out of duty, after all." He agreed with your words. He seemed more relax now as if there was some comfort away from the nobles. Duty, you did not take lightly in his tone. Your eyes went past him, looking at Lady Sofia. “I presume your duty lies with matters of marriage as well?" Another tug of his mouth. He was desperately holding in a smile. "Indeed I am. Now if you kindly excuse me..." he was set to leave when he looked back at you. "Farewell for now, I do pray we meet again." He walked away to head toward the Kaiser and Lady Sofia. She acknowledged him with a nod of her head, briefly catching your eyes next. She kept her face null of emotions, staring at you. It went on for ages, and your bones quietly creaked underneath your wrist until a sharp pain made you hissed. Twisting on your heels, you turned back and met face to face with Milena. Without a word, she seized your wrist. "Where were you?" You breathed, trying to slow down your heart. After all, it did not bode well with you as you noticed how quick Artem fled from the scene, only moments later Milena appeared. "Exploring." She said in a hushed tone, lifting a finger to her lips. "I found something beneath the catherdral." "Do I have a choice?" You grumbled but you already knew the answer. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[She squeezed your hand gently this time. Warm hands full of life.|10]]</div> <</nobr>>

All you see is haze. Fleeting yet something grounded you to the floor. Pushing out the air from your lungs, you fell silent with your eyes starting the ceiling above you. Counting the specks of dust in the air. Was it truly the haze? It all felt unfamilar to you. Now you feel lighter, weightless. Free. You laugh. Then a voice speaks. <i>Who do you truly worship?</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You did not answer Greed as there is nothing to offer.|thanks]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "letter" stop>><<audio "S00" loop play volume 0.5>><<set $chapter to "prelude">><<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $person to "man">> <<set $heshe to "he">> <<set $HeShe to "He">> <<set $himher to "him">> <<set $hisher to "his">> <<set $himself to "himself">> <<elseif $gender is "female">> <<set $person to "woman">> <<set $heshe to "she">> <<set $HeShe to "She">> <<set $himher to "her">> <<set $hishers to "hers">> <<set $himself to "herself">> <<else>> <<set $person to "person">> <<set $heshe to "they">> <<set $himher to "them">> <<set $HeShe to "They">> <<set $hisher to "their">> <<set $hishers to "theirs">> <<set $himself to "themself">> <</if>><div style="text-align: center;"> <h2 style="color: #EBCC78; text-decoration: underline;">prelude</h2> </div><</nobr>>You recall the second entanglement with the Solian soldiers all too well. It has been three months since you completed training and joined the ranks of the sixth company in the first battalion. Despite being miles away from the battlefield, the residue of gunfire lingers in the air still. Your hands is fidgeting like a bundle of nerves. Wisps of air push from your lungs as you exhale, rocking back on your heels. It is the dead of spring, yet you do not feel its warmth fingers gripping you. Up ahead is a sun magus is lying on her stomach, busying herself with a spyglass. It is her turn to stand watch. Sitting crosslegged, you huddle close to your coat with the rifle resting next to you, half listening to the mumurs of conversation and the softness of the pigeons' cooing. You were caught with the serenity, failing to notice a flask waving in front of you. Blinking your eyes, you bring up a tired smile before accepting it. “Deine,” you thank the boy quietly. But you are not thirsty at the moment. “So this is it, we’re off to a great start,” the boy who introduce himself as Graves not an hour ago, settles down next to you. Placing the flask near his lips, he drowns it down in one swift notion. You glance at his way, unscrewing the top from the flask. “Your meaning?” “Prophets, don’t get your teeth twisted,” Graves mumurs, trying hard not to sound annoyed. Then a sigh forces out from him, scratching his forehead. “I find it strange, that’s all. Not a single Solians in sight. Have you ever had that feeling?” “A sense of peace?” “Sure why not?” He muses as he toys the empty flask. Snorting, your other hand brush across the side of your rifle, and it felt raw on your skin. It is the only thing that you find comfort in. You try to make sense of his words when a curse interupts the air, causing your grip and body to tighten. The conversation dies down. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|S01]]</div> <</nobr>>

Standing a little straighter, you watch the footman hurry to the newcomer's carriage. Excitement still bubbles in you, it feels surreal. After all, you do not have such luxury to parade among the nobles of the inner court like your mother. Mixed emotions swallowed you, none of which you are able to grasp with your fingertips. "Presenting Lord Artem of House Voryev!" A young man step down from the carriage, his fair complexion striking against the sun giving his rosy cheeks a warm glow. He is older, you stare at him, taller even. While adjusting one of his laced cuffs, his eyes imediately find your general direction <<if $bg is "A">> and latch onto yours, briefly.<<else>>but it sweep past you.<</if>> "Well meet, dear brother!" Lady Milena called out. You barely hear her disgruntled noise as Lord Artem leave without a word, heading to the catherdral. He is paying his respects to a figure endowed in a feathered mask and fitted overcoat. They are known as Greed, and the only color they know is gold. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|05]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "letter" stop>><<audio "M00" loop play volume 0.5>><<set $chapter to "prelude">><<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $person to "man">> <<set $heshe to "he">> <<set $HeShe to "He">> <<set $himher to "him">> <<set $hisher to "his">> <<set $himself to "himself">> <<elseif $gender is "female">> <<set $person to "woman">> <<set $heshe to "she">> <<set $HeShe to "She">> <<set $himher to "her">> <<set $hishers to "hers">> <<set $himself to "herself">> <<else>> <<set $person to "person">> <<set $heshe to "they">> <<set $himher to "them">> <<set $HeShe to "They">> <<set $hisher to "their">> <<set $hishers to "theirs">> <<set $himself to "themself">> <</if>><div style="text-align: center;"> <h2 style="color: #EBCC78; text-decoration: underline;">prelude</h2> </div><</nobr>>All is quiet in the old apartment as you sit by the window sill, your fingers ruminating over the strings of the zister. You are not playing, though you feel in the mood. There is an unseen song in your waking mind, longing perhaps. Whatever it is, you pray you will find an answer soon enough. It eats at you. Slowly. After all, life returns to its dull self when your company drifts apart one by one. With the growing desire for fine opera houses and theatres in Zeimrada, there is less need for jesters and bards. The form of art is changing, and that you know of. But still, it leaves bitter marks on you, a sting you do not want pressing on your skin. Yet it is there to remind you. Without thinking, your fingers strum a single note. The door creaks open, but you pay little attention as you sit by the window. "I should have known you would be here!" The singsong voice of the girl approaches to your side. You lift your eyes to meet hers, trying to put on a smile. "I'm always here." "Indeed," she laughs softly, adjusting the scrolls of parchment that's tucked under her arm. You notice her hand still on you and feel whatever grief or ache crawls out from your bones. Though the pain always returns, you are glad that she cares for you. "Now then, mind telling me what plagues your mind?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[["Well, I came down with a terrible illness," you sigh, placing the palm of your hand gingerly on your forehead. "If only there were a cure for boredom..."|M01]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[You smile softly as your fingers stop strumming. "Plague?" you question. "Afraid it is no more now that you are here."|M01]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[["Boredom, it’s called," you say plainly.|M01]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "letter" stop>><<audio "D00" loop play volume 0.5>><<set $chapter to "prelude">><<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $person to "man">> <<set $heshe to "he">> <<set $HeShe to "He">> <<set $himher to "him">> <<set $hisher to "his">> <<set $himself to "himself">> <<elseif $gender is "female">> <<set $person to "woman">> <<set $heshe to "she">> <<set $HeShe to "She">> <<set $himher to "her">> <<set $hishers to "hers">> <<set $himself to "herself">> <<else>> <<set $person to "person">> <<set $heshe to "they">> <<set $himher to "them">> <<set $HeShe to "They">> <<set $hisher to "their">> <<set $hishers to "theirs">> <<set $himself to "themself">> <</if>><div style="text-align: center;"> <h2 style="color: #EBCC78; text-decoration: underline;">prelude</h2> </div> <</nobr>>The trees are welcoming you with its splintered hands as you ride further, passing the creek. Tiny blossoms of leikrut sprouts along thin branches, all pretty and pink. You so eager to snatch one of them away for a keepsake but with one warning glance from Master Kosma makes your arms fall to your sides. "Do not temper Holda's home, we are her guests after all." You nod to yourself, stealing his words from him. It is easy to be lost in the forest the longer you stare up into the wide expanse. Towering branches, all pointing toward the sky. Though the spring equinox has just passed, remnants of winter still refuse to let go. You used to think it was Holda who had forgotten to turn over her snowy cloak, but since training under Kosma’s tutelage, his medicinal expertise and his position as one of the Five Masters have shaped your beliefs differently. Kosma closes his mouth, amusement dances in his eyes. In a slow, delibrate movement, his eyes closes before drawing two fingers to his collarbones to form a sign of reverence to the gods. You follow suit. A moment passes and your eyes blink open. You see him looking down at the compass on the palm of his hand. "We are nearing Leizden," he briefs you, snapping the lid of the compass shut. He spurs his horse forward, leaping over the fallen trunk. You nod in response, gently easing the back of your heels to the horse to a trot. You fall behind him, feeling the rush of the wind caressing your skin. Excitement gnaws in you. This is the first case he passes on to you. Your mind is running, wondering if you will fail or even succeed. <i>Oh, I feel terrible ill.</i> Discomfort settles in your stomach, and you wince at the mere thought of it. While you are lamenting over the sickness, the trees begin to thin eventually leading you to a worn down path toward the village. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|D01]]</div> <</nobr>>

Keeping your body close to the earth, you slowly inch your way toward the older girl. "<i>Kere!</i>" Nadin hissed again between her teeth. Warily, you eye at her. Before long, she points to the trees, showing youw where to look. "Not there," you hear her again. "It's coming from our right." Turning east, you see the mist enveloping the land below as you stand on the hills and regret wipes curiousness from your face. It is well hours before the sun rises, but you catch movement near the woods and your breathing quiets as if it helps you focus. Patterns of rich red with gold buttoned coats emerge from the trees to cross the stream—leading them is a soldier only distinguished by a tricorne hat. They are taking the path to avoid the main battlefront, you soon realize. Through the lens, their head lifts slightly, turning toward your direction. The Solians are near. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|S01.1]]</div> <</nobr>>

"What a silly mind to have." The girl laughs before darting her eyes at your knees then back to you. You relent with letting your feet fall to the ground to give her room to sit with you, not without <<cycle "$att">> <<option "rolling your eyes.">> <<option "breaking out a grin.">> <<option "patting the empty spot next to you.">> <</cycle>> She pays little attention to your quip as she sits on the widow sill, carefully fanning out her green with white laced dress. In the three years you have lived in Otren Tioba, you never expected the chartalan’s daughter to become so fixated on your music. Her sweet words are more than enough to convince her father to let you stay at their apartment. Yet what you hadn’t expected is that the chartalan’s daughter has a way of composing music. And here she is with you, unfurling the scrolls to present them to you. "What do you have for me now?" You asked, lowering your eyes to one of the parchment. Now this one is particular. Unlike the other composition you have read, this one seems...finished. Almost, you correct yourself. You dare not to question her further as your fingers begin to answer it for you. She reaches out, stopping your hands. <<if $gender is "male">>Your eyes widen as you glance down at the way her hands clasp yours. Her skin feels as warm as your ears. In less than a heartbeat, she separates from you, her eyes darting away. "Well... there's always plenty of time for this another time..." her voice stammers, now faint. She then closes her eyes, exhaling. "I am invited to play at the cathedral." <<else>>"Not this, silly. I wanted to share this wonderful news with you. I am invited to play at the church!"<</if>> Your eyes widen, wanting to contain your excitement but it bubbles open to a smile. "By whom?" Your voice come out breathless. A thunderous laughter interupts your moment, and you grin harder at the sight of the chartalan bursting into the room. A stout man and of average height, you could not forget your first impression of him. You remember how he regards you indifferently until the opportunity to rise to fame came across. "A WONDERFUL NEWS!" The man sings, taking his daughter's arm and pulling her in for a hug. You step back to give them room, half shielding your zister. "So I have heard, Mister Holz." You say to yourself. "I know, father!" She throws her head slightly, letting out a peal of laughter. "I am just telling $name." Holz releases his hands, turning his attention while his daughter stumbles back to regain balance. "Oh, but we must tell you again! My dear Marion will be performing at Grand Mosprue..." he trails off, whipping around to his daughter. "Hurry, show $himher the invitation!" <i>Grand Mosprue?</i> Your eyes widen even further, not expecting she is to perform at the cathedral. You do not know how to react, that sinking feeling settles in the pits of your stomach as your throat seems to close up. Marion presses her hand over her chest, her hair slightly tussled. "I left it at my room." With an annoyed grunt, Holz waves her off. "Then hurry! $HeShe must see it!" You let out a quiet laugh, covering the shock with a hand over your mouth. "There is no need for that, Holz." "Oh no, no, you must see it." Holz is quick to say, pushing your words into the wind. "Marion! Why have you not gone to your room?" She mutters an apology before sprinting out of the room while her father rubs his hand eagerly. The room spins as your lips thin, holding onto the zister as if it is your lifeline. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|M01.1]]</div> <</nobr>>

You follow Kosma to the cottage just by the riverbank. Upon entering, dust and faint smoke creeps to your nose, sending tingles to your skin. Your nose wrinkles as you try not to sneeze while two pairs of eyes look up, noticing you. <i>These must be the parents he was mentioning.</i> You note to yourself as you acknowledge them with a slight nod. "I pray it is not too late," Kosma speaks softly. "I have brought with me a doktor to treat your son. This is $name." You watch as the man glances at you, his near red face with lack of clarity in his eyes. "$HeShe looks awfully young." Somehow Kosma finds this amusing, brusing up a laughter. "I can assure you $heshe is best in $hisher field. Why is there a problem?" "No, no," the man grumbles more to himself. "Not at all, Master Kosma. It's just...we are not expecting you." Believing this to be a perfect oppturne moment, you clear your throat. "Tell me where he is," you demand quickly after, and the woman nods once, gesturing for you to follow her. "Now about the woods..." Kosma's voice continue on as she leads you to the next room, which is quite small. As you enter, you see two beds tucked into the corner against the wall, leaving just enough space to walk, and that is all there is to the cottage. Sure enough, a child as pale as snow, is lying on one of the beds. Possibly seven or eight years of age. His eyes were shut, motionless as his body. Lifting the strap of the medic bag over your head, you set it down to the wooden floor and step forward. Sinking to the corner of the bed, your hand first check his pulse, pressing on the wrist. Concentrating on one area, you find it easier to listen closely to the movement of his joints, every tendons connecting it. There is a hum beneath the bones, albeit it is faint. Yet there is no sign of bile or illness in the boy. "Tell me what happened." You deem to ask while you press harder onto his wrist. "I do not know, he was just fine when my husband found him near the woods—" "How long has it been this way?" "About four days." You let out a hum, turning your attention to your satchel. Shifting through the contents, you pull out a small box and open it. Taking a few slender needles and old elk sinew, you carefully weave the sinew around the head of the needle, fashioning a tight knot. You check it by tugging it twice. Satisfied with the the outcome, you insert the sharp end into wrist. Twirling the sinew around your finger, the power surges through your, connecting your joints to his. His tendons to yours. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[With the shared connection, your eyes catches the splintered bones running down his legs.|D02]]</div> <</nobr>>

A beat longer. You wait for the bugle to sound again, another herald for another wave. It is quiet enough to hear the distant rumble of shots disaspated, drowning into the wind. The battle is over before you know it. In the middle of the silence, a laughter cracks open. Nadin slowly pushes herself up on her feet, stretching her muscles while wincing. "We are heading back," she announces to the company, and they quickly agreed. You do as well. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[After all, you want to leave the field, loathing every second of it.|S02.1]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[The only thought that unsettles your mind is the Solians emerging out from the woods.|S02.1]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Your body relaxes, relief washes over you. Part of you is glad the battle is over.|S02.1]]</div> <</nobr>>

<i>Dearest $name, If you are reading this, then my wary mind can rest easily. You’ve been away for some time without sending a word home, so I’m writing to you instead. Return to Rosenhardt. I will await you there to tell you the rest. Postscript. Do not tell a word of this to the lady. You know very well of her temper. </i><<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You glance at the letter once more but it ends there. A smile cracks open. Mother is not fond of signing letters.|cont1]]</div> <</nobr>>

You may not have the ability to sink into his mind but you feel something is wrong. Terribly wrong. While you are mending his broken bones, there is some form of power surging across his bones, irregular, almost aching as his body quivered. It does not taste the ones you are familar with. This one is dark, shifting in the corners. And how it hides itself well, slipping from your fingertips. Gritting your teeth, you lend him some of your power, feeding them to his body. And you feel him accepting it. At least it is working in some way. There is a reaction from the boy, you notice how his mouth twists into a thin line, his face shaking from side to side. A sliver of a voice trembles from him. "…ahel." It is soft at first, and you nearly miss it if he does not repeat it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[His body jolts again, throwing his eyes open, gasping for air.|D03]]</div> <</nobr>>

It is the day of The Shattering. Many flock to the old city, Keichsfaer, in hopes to have glimpse of the young empress, newly wedded. You think otherwise. It is a Zeimar tradition, a feast to mark the death and rebirth of Varyesein, the hunger god. But still, you beg your mother to bring you the city. Six days after and a depressing storm causes the carriage to sink in mud halfway through the journey. You are anxious. Incredibly so. Stretching your legs, you are happy to leave the stuffiness of the carriage behind but you do not wander far. The grass is still soaked in dewdrop, and it is with great restraint not to slip in it. Your heart nearly gave out when you were following the half-beaten trail, wanting to explore the trees. You shudder at the thought of your <<cycle "$preclothes">> <<option "simple pinkish gown with matching bonnet">> <<option "deep green cotton dress with black sash tied around your waist">> <<option "linen brown coat with white tunic and trousers">> <<option "a buttoned black overcoat and gray pants ">> <</cycle>> being drenched in mud. No, never again. You are staying put. Beside you, a young girl about your age remains composed. You wonder what has so enthralled her in the book she is reading. Lady Milena, in your eyes, is perfect. You try to peer over, sneaking a look at a page, when the girl snaps the book shut. “Nervous?” Milena asks, seemingly wanting to start idle chatter. You shake your head. The truth is, you have never been to the Shattering this massive. “To tell you a secret,” she lowers her voice. “This is my first outing.” Your eyes light up at her words. A perfect opportune moment for teasing. “Your first outing? I thought the imperial family held you upon so short a leash.” You hold your breath, uncertain how she might respond. Perhaps she has changed during the three years you were apart. Instead, she cracks a small smile. You follow suit, smiling back. “House Rechigl may be known for many things, but none of them feel suffocating. The Kaiser grants me one of his familial estates. I have everything I need there. The place is quaint, not wholly abandoned.” “So, you are not living at the capital?” Milena shakes her head. “Of course not, court rules as they always say. But I do not miss the crowded capital—I find Rosenhardt quite nice.” “How is it there?” “Peace and quiet, and when I grow bored, I go to town. I’ve been to a few lectures at their university, and someone was generous enough to lend me his book.” You now have a clear view of the book, rather nondescript. Before you can question it, she continues. “These poems are quite morbid, I dare say. Is it true? That we will come to face four deaths?” <<if $bg is "M">>You listen intently, but your focus drifts more to the book’s cover. It is painted brown, its pages rough along the edges. You have seen variations of the book at some point during your travels. You smile. “Yes, it’s a common tongue. Every one knows it. And these are Saint Ivo’s works. Her poems are much better when they’re sung.” “Oh?” Milena raises a brow. “Perhaps you can sing me a verse or two.” You laugh, spreading your hands wide. “If only I had my zither with me.” “Yes, if only. Poor zither, you left it alone at the apartment.” Your mother tuts, and you cannot help but groan and slump against the seat. Hiding your face with your hands, you dare not to peek.<<else>>Your mother remains quiet through most of the journey, though she has been listening to your conversation. At last, she speaks: “Yes, it’s a common expression, you don't have to fret over these meaningless words.” Milena turns to your mother, nodding. "Dutifully noted."<</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Then the three of you engaged in another conversation to pass time.|03]]</div> <</nobr>>

Content warning: Scenes of violence, mutilation, and blood depending on your choices. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|chp1.S]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

Lowering the spyglass, you turn to her. "Do you think it's them?" You know well enough of the annoyance the imperial army has to deal with for years. And the thorn intensifies as the war slowly shifts in the Solians’ favor, when rumors of the regiment of elite magi led by Dafne Valori surfaces. It must be them, and that was the sole reason why you and the other magi were recruited by the imperial army. Yet it is not easy to hunt down the Solian magus. When silence between you lingers, you cast a worried look at her. "Nadin?" A frown visibily appear in her mouth, her hand grips tightly the grass, nearly ripping it from its roots. Whatever words that comes from her mouth is drowned out by the bugle. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Your hands shoot to your back to grasp your rifle, only to meet air.|S02]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Your eyes meet Nadin's, waiting for her command.|S02]]</div> <</nobr>>

You blend easily with the black-coated soldiers as you cross further into the fort, the drills you heard before growing louder as you pass the practice field. The newer recruits—most of them, you suspect, a year younger than you—stand in a line, firing bullets into the straw posts. An officer in blue strolls leisurely up and down the row, offering corrections and insults. Your memories brush back fondly of your first drills. Though you have only join the ranks fully two months ago, the weight of the rifle and war left marks on you. Some scars lingers still, others long faded. Near the bottom of the stairs leading up to one of the officers’ quarters, a boy crosses your path with a bundle slung over his shoulder, waving. You slow down your pace, allowing him to approach you. "A letter from Rosenhardt." In his hand is a sealed envelope. Your eyes glance at Nadin. "You can go on without me, I am stopping by the captain's office." She says, and you nod back. "Thank you." You accept the envelope from him and leave Nadin and the messenger. Your steps lightens, there's spring in every step as your fingers brush across it. <i>At least it is not an imperial seal</i>, you thought to yourself. But from Rosenhardt? This could only mean one thing. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[It is from your mother.|S03]]</div> <</nobr>>

<i>To Mother, You may not read this, but that does not deter me from writing to you. As you see, I adore Otren Tioba, it has slowly become a place doted in music, pride, and wonderful people, it always has since the beginning. I have not visited the newer parts of the town but there has been talks of a prodigy. Holz and his daughter Marion has nothing been kind and generous, and I am grateful for living with them. Marion…she will soon surpass me in talent for I could only teach her so much. I will be returning to Rosenhardt to tell you the rest. </i><<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[As soon as you finish the last stroke of words, you lean back on your chair to stare outside.|cont1]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<if $god is "Varyesein">>Hunger is seen in many things: power, greed, and famine. They seek to consume yet you feel none of these things. Hunger is a sacred devotion, and as a magus, you know some portion of the god's blood is in you. The god hears you, sending warmth across your wrists.<</if>><<if $god is "Reinhilde">>Despite the hunger god's blood running in your veins, you seek comfort for the solitude. You feel a sense of calmess dipping in your mind. Reinhilde seems to notice with phantom hands running down your spine, abeit faint.<</if>><<if $god is "Meskary">>It is difficult to know if the Pale God hears you. They are always elusive, fleeting like winter. But you feel the most connection to the god as you reach to the point of life where you are filled with uncertainty. You do not know why you are afraid, perhaps it was the weight of expectation to follow your mother's footsteps.<</if>><<if $god is "Nele" and $bg is "M">>You are always a creative child. At times, you will sneak away from your lessons to join the group of passing minstrels and bards. You mastered the songs in Tau-Muivart tongue. They sang songs of ancient past and you danced with them. You remembered when your first instrument, gifted by a handsome bard with amber eyes. His eyes seemed to lighten up when you accepted the zister in your hands. Soon after, your goddess is often voicing her songs in your ears with bubbling laughter.<<elseif $god is "Nele">>You are always an intuitive child. At times, you will sneak away from your lessons to join the archivists at the imperial library. At first, they shooed you away, berating you for disturbing the peace. But after some frequent visits, they eventually welcomed you. You spent most of your time translating scriptures and listening to the archivists discuss history. Soon after your goddess is often voicing her knowledge in your ears with bubbling laughter. <</if>><<if $god is "Holda">>Despite the hunger god's blood running in your veins, you feel protected when you turn toward the earth goddess. Channeling the earth, you draw understanding your power as a magus. You can hear every movement of your bones, flexing and breathing, until it became an extension of you. <</if>><<if $god is "Holda" and $bg is "H">>Despite the hunger god's blood running in your veins, you feel protected when you turn toward the earth goddess. Under Master Kosma's lessons, your hands soon became delicate to craft concoction as you tended to the sick and dying. You heed Kosma's warning to not disturb the dead but when the goddess unearthed her blanket, you could not help but to study the fallen soldiers across the trenches, sketching their anatomy in your journal. <</if>><<if $god is "Ostara">>Like your mother, you honored Ostara. It is a common god to pray to for protection despite being one of the prospect of death. The Many-Faced One saw all and the absolute. <</if>>

<<audio "M00" stop>><<audio "S00" stop>><<audio "D00" stop>><i>5 days later</i> Rosenhardt has changed over the years; you hardly recognize the streets now. It is not the quiet town you remember, it is chaotic and full of life. Not knowing what to make out of it, you dismount from the horse, deciding it is better to walk. Still, the main road remains as you venture further, passing shops and vendors until they become sparse as you cross the bridge. Finding the manor’s address your mother sent you is not difficult. <<cycle "$att">> <<option "Swallowing your doubts,">> <<option "Hesitating, you wonder if you made a wise decision to return, but">> <<option "Calmly,">> <</cycle>> you knock on the door thrice.<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Your mother appears at the door, her eyes softens when she notices you.|cont2]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "lantern" loop play volume 0.5>>Stepping inside, your eyes find comfort in the familiarity of the foyer. You were raised here; you remember every crevice, every wall. Memories stir within you until you feel again the long-forgotten warmth they hold. As your mother closes the door behind you, her footsteps flit away into another room, leaving you to breathe it all in. The remnants of your past seem to run down this very hall, barefoot, chasing after your mother, darting from room to room. And you, you think, as your fingers trail along the wooden table. It is weathered with age now, and the porcelain vase you once broke has long been discarded. Your mother had insisted she was never fond of it, and you had believed her. “Three full years, and you will not spare me a glance?” A soft, nimble voice teases the air, reverberating down to your fingertips. You turn your head to the right. The first thing you see is her radiant smile, capturing her fully in the doorframe. Her gray eyes are striking against the soft black curls that fall near her shoulders. “I am tempted not to.” You dip your head, greeting her with a knowing smirk. She tilts her head, watching you as though she seeks not only your attention but your reaction. “Then I shall tempt you with sweets.” You notice the way her eyes shift, her smile a touch too perfect, fishing for an answer though she offers nothing away. “I am afraid you will fail.” “Come, this way then. Let us see who wins in the end.” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|cont3]]</div> <</nobr>>

You are wrong. Entirely wrong. Your mouth waters at the plate in front of you, the <<cycle "$des">> <<option "powdered sugar tart">> <<option "raisin bread">> <<option "egg custard with fresh Leikrut berries on the side">> <</cycle>> has been your favorite since childhood. You could hardly restrain yourself, your cheeks begin to hurt from beaming too much. Between bites and the occasional nod, you listen as your mother prattles on, ranging from a college nearly burnt down to some gossip of the neighbor’s stolen dog. "I love this part!" Milena says in a quiet voice. Her eyes shifts to you as if to prod you to pay attention. "Oh that poor mutt, but you must know, it died in that fire." Mother sighs, stopping in mid sentence, pressing a hand to her temple. "My lady, I am pleading not to confuse my mind any longer." "I understand," her shoulders slump, lowering her eyes. "I must have recall it differently now." Lowering the pastry to the plate, you glance between the two, trying to piece some form of rationality. "Am I missing something?" You dare to ask them. Milena says nothing as she gently stirring the teacup in her hands. Instead of answering right away, your mother forces out a smile. Her eyes lose that light as she brushes the dust from her dress. "I believe that is enough stories to share," she says, her voice firm, slipping to the old mask of hers. "I think Lady Milena, here, will tell the rest." "Yes," Milena says, lowering the teacup to the platter, and turns to you. "My sister is wedded a week ago but I do not blame you for not knowing as she is a simple woman." Though you grew up with Milena, you have met the princess only once or twice. Prinzessin Izyaslava the Second came from Lesanpolysk, a country southwest of the border, was rumored for her terrible beauty. Her terrible beauty was what caused a strife between the noble suitors and the eyes of the Kaiser. In the end, she bore the title of Kaiserin. You do not expect the wedding to be held behind closed doors, it feels too soon. Your mind race to one thought to another. This may mean Milena will be leaving from her country to yours. "Since The Shattering is approaching, my sister wishes to see the birth and death of the hunger god. Everyone will be there, and I pray you can accept my invitation, $name." Milena finishes. All the sudden, the pastry looks unclean so you set the plate tot the table. Your hands grip your sides. "But," A sound comes out from you but it is not enough as your mother rises from the chair. "Wait, I have not..." But there is no need to, the conversation is already over before you know it. You nearly leap from the chair, avoiding their gazes. "I...I need a moment to think." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|cont4]]</div> <</nobr>>

That night, you kneel at the side of your bed with clasped hands while time crawls past in the most agonizing way. You do not bother rekindling the candle; your body has gone still, heavy, almost languid. Not surprisingly, a thin sliver of light ebbs in as the door creaks open, uninvited to your own solace. You lift your head to see Milena standing in the doorway. She has not changed into her nightgown, still dressed in her usual daywear. “You’re not asleep,” you remark quietly, already turning away. “I would say the same of you,” Milena replies after a beat. Her eyes wander about your room before resting on you. “I pray I am not intruding on your prayer.” You shake your head, you had finished reciting it a while ago. Part of you hopes she does not ask why you kneel there in the dark. “May I?” You are tempted to refuse her, but she has already crossed the threshold, carrying a candleholder. The flame dances on its wick, bleeding faint light into the room. You hear her footsteps over the thin floorboards, wandering without aim. “What are you doing?” you ask, tiredly. “Seeking your desk. Where is it?” “Afraid I don’t have one.” “I see. In that case…” Milena exhales, then blows out the candle. The room is once more swaddled in shadow. “$name, I came here to explain—if you will allow me.” Again, her tempting words. You are glad for the dark, sparing you from the sight of her face, or of your own. “I can’t abandon my duties.” You hate to speak it aloud before her, but it is true. “I know.” That is all she says. You shake your head, then collapse back onto the bed, legs dangling over the side. “Then you know well that I cannot drop everything on a whim.” “That I know,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible like a ghostly thread lingering in the air. “But my sister—” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[["No, Milena," your voice is crack open, raw. "What I truly wish from you is to speak freely. With me."|cont5]]</div> <</nobr>>

You do not have perfect memories with Milena. But it is hard to imagine a life without her. Since your thirteenth birthday, you were taken to the imperial palace to train alongside the summoners, all to serve a purpose and bring glory. <<if $bg is "S">>Your work has paid off in the end, and you have become an ideal reflection of your mother.<<else>>However, you resigned from it, leaving everything behind.<</if>> “You are not angry, are you?” Her voice is closer now, as if she were standing near your bed. Strange, you do not feel the rustle of her dress, but another thought soon seizes control. You do not feel angry, or do you? There is a grip tightening on your chest, closing in on your lungs. Lost in the sea of words, your body turns to one side, your cheek pressing into the bed. “I am not angry at you,” you finally say, your eyes drifting closed. At least your heart feels relief, and not regret. In a beat, your body feels the bed shift slightly; then a fabric brushes against it, heavy and weighted. Milena is lying beside you, inches apart. “Then what is it, if you are not angry?” Slowly opening your eyes, you glance back at her. “I wish I knew.” “You must be, I can tell it in your eyes.” Milena whispers from your side. “And I’m sorry if my words were an act of selfishness. I did not mean it, but it is harder to keep it contained nowadays.” You blink. “Whatever do you mean?” At first, you believe she may not hear you with the silence between you. But she finally speaks, much softer. “If I say the rest, will you promise me not to speak a word of it?” “Milena, I don’t—” “Please, listen.” It is not a command but a plea. And you listen. “Please, $name, I need you to say these words for me.” This time, you regard her fully. Between her shifting words and quiet gaze, you wonder if these last three years have changed you entirely. Are you even the same $name as before? The same $name who once remembered her favorite colors, the dresses she always adored? It all feels like a haze now, and it pulls you in. You remember these words before, they are same ones she speaks to you now. “Yes, I promise.” “Always?” You feel yourself nodding, and you do not care if she notices through the dark. “Upon Meskary, should I sever this promise, this oath, I, too, shall sever your soul.” There is comfort in these words, and the roughness of them lies on your tongue. As your eyes relax, taking you closer to slumber, something presses close to your ear. “Upon Meskary, should I sever my promise, my oath, I will be consumed entirely.” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|thanks]]</div> <</nobr>>

The ride back feels endless. Like clockwork, you fall behind Nadin, keeping pace in easy synchronized rhythm. When the mouth of the camp yawns ahead, comfort settles in, already imaging yourself throwing yourself on the bedroll, kicking off the boots. As inticing as it sounds in your mind, the vision vanishes when distant shots crack through the air. Your mind reel itself in, shaking off the thought. The ground beneath your feet is soft, the soil worn by decades of marching soldiers. Fort Priemry, what is once a town nestled in the northern border, now turned into a war camp. It is not a terrible sight seeing the fort coming to view, it has become your second home, after all. Approaching to the gates, you dismount from the horse, along with the others. A soldier stand watch, lifting his head to give salute. You return it, folding your right hand into a fist and pressing it over your heart. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|S01.2]]</div> <</nobr>>

After the parents thank you profusely, you eventually leave the cottage with Kosma. Your mind still cannot wrap around it. And your eyes could not help but turn toward him once every while. Kosma notices, he always does, as he brush the imaginary dust from the horse's mane. "I spoke to the boy’s father, and afraid the findings are true. Children have gone missing, and the boy was the first to be found." With a raised brow, you listen, half expecting him to continue. When he has not, you fill it in for him. "I am not sure if this is revelant, but there's a name." "Oh? Pray tell." Scratching the itch on your forehead, you nod your head, affirming. "He speaks of the name. It's..." You then stop, frowning at yourself. The name lies on the tip of your tongue but your mind easily slips it away. <i>Strange.</i> Laughing, your head shakes. "I don't suppose it's important." Silently cursing in your mind, you try to push out a smile. Kosma looks as if he is still unconvinced but does not press further. "Will you be returning to Ramona Thrones?" You change the topic entirely. Not only does Kosma serves the ill and the weak, his true duties lies with the city-sancutary, serving Meskary, the Pale God. His white robes and mantle is a reflection of it. "Yes," he says simply, then turns to face you. "You can come with but alas, there's a letter for you. From your mother." His hand slip inside his satchel and hands out a sealed envelope to you. You accept it quickly, interest in your eyes as you gloss through the sides. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Not waiting a second longer, your finger slip between the seams of the envelope, prying it apart.|D04]]</div> <</nobr>>

<i>Dearest $name, I pray this letter reaches to you. You’ve been away for some time without sending a word home, so I’m writing to you instead. Return to Rosenhardt. I will await you there to tell you the rest. Postscript. Do not tell a word of this to the lady. You know very well of her temper. </i><<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[You glance at the letter once more but it ends there. A smile cracks open. Mother is not fond of signing letters.|cont1]]</div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "lantern" stop>>Content warning: Brief mentions of body parts. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|D00]]</div> </div><</nobr>>

It is late in the afternoon, when the house becomes quiet once more, you settle rest in the small study. With wariness falls over your eyes, you dip the pen in ink and begin to write. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Next.|M01.2]]</div> <</nobr>>

><div id="start-title"><span style="color: #EBCC78;">THE BONEWITCH</span></div> <<nobr>><div id="start-menu"> <<nobr>><<if Save.autosave.ok() and Save.autosave.has()>><<button "Resume Game">><<run Save.autosave.load()>><</button>><</if>><</nobr>> <<button "New Game" "home">><</button>> <<button "Load Game">><<run UI.saves();>><</button>> <<button "Settings">><<run UI.settings();>><</button>> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $bg is "S">> <<goto "S00">> <<elseif $bg is "M">> <<goto "M00">> <<else>> <<goto "warning1">> <</if>>

<<audio "saint" stop>><<audio "letter" loop play volume 0.5>><<nobr>><<if $f_gender is "male">> <<set $f_name to "Florian">> <<set $f_person to "man">> <<set $f_heshe to "he">> <<set $f_HeShe to "He">> <<set $f_himher to "him">> <<set $f_hisher to "his">> <<set $f_hishers to "his">> <<set $f_himself to "himself">> <<elseif $f_gender is "female">> <<set $f_name to "Florcia">> <<set $f_person to "woman">> <<set $f_heshe to "she">> <<set $f_HeShe to "She">> <<set $f_himher to "her">> <<set $f_hisher to "her">> <<set $f_hishers to "hers">> <<set $f_himself to "herself">> <<else>> <<set $f_name to "Florian">> <<set $f_person to "person">> <<set $f_heshe to "they">> <<set $f_himher to "them">> <<set $f_HeShe to "They">> <<set $f_hisher to "their">> <<set $f_hishers to "theirs">> <<set $f_himself to "themself">> <</if>> <<if $i_gender is "male">> <<set $i_name to "Ihrin">> <<set $i_person to "man">> <<set $i_heshe to "he">> <<set $i_HeShe to "He">> <<set $i_himher to "him">> <<set $i_hisher to "his">> <<set $i_hishers to "his">> <<set $i_himself to "himself">> <<elseif $i_gender is "female">> <<set $i_name to "Ihrin">> <<set $i_person to "woman">> <<set $i_heshe to "she">> <<set $i_HeShe to "She">> <<set $i_himher to "her">> <<set $i_hisher to "her">> <<set $i_hishers to "hers">> <<set $i_himself to "herself">> <</if>> <<if $v_gender is "male">> <<set $v_name to "Vinzent">> <<set $v_person to "man">> <<set $v_heshe to "he">> <<set $v_HeShe to "He">> <<set $v_himher to "him">> <<set $v_hisher to "his">> <<set $v_hishers to "his">> <<set $v_himself to "himself">> <<elseif $v_gender is "female">> <<set $v_name to "Vanessza">> <<set $v_person to "woman">> <<set $v_heshe to "she">> <<set $v_HeShe to "She">> <<set $v_himher to "her">> <<set $v_hisher to "her">> <<set $v_hishers to "hers">> <<set $v_himself to "herself">><</if>> <</nobr>>Agitation plagues the mind, it always has. When the ink first blotched the paper, her fist slams the table. Ink spills some more, spreading its dark veins to erase her sprawling words. Her eyes squint under the dim candlelight with its flame nearly spent but she does not care. There is an unfinished letter that spirals in her mind and it crumbles in her hand, squeezing, until her knuckles turns white. A silent laugh swallows her whole, festering the rot beneath her skin. Her body stills, alert at the footsteps drawing near. The moment light spills across the floor, the woman is already up as if it is in her nature. With her feet planted firmly on the ground, she curtsies low. "My lady," her words delicate as her eyes. "Pray tell, why are you still awake?" She does not understand why she has asked such a question. By now, she knows more of the young noble than herself. So it comes as a surprise to her when, in the dead of night, a girl in a satin nightgown demands a letter. "I'm afraid I do not understand," the woman blinks at her, trying to string her words in a coherent piece. The girl crosses her arms to look down to her slippers, and mumurs, "Not any letter, an invitation." A pause. Intrigue overtakes the woman, raising a brow, but she does not interupt. <i>Give her enough, just enough time.</i> With a tilt of her head, the girl continues. "I heard of The Shattering will be held in Keichsfaer, and I wish to attend." "We always perform The Shattering here," the woman softly remind her. "If the prayer room is not in your liking, we can visit the garden. I recall there's a gazebo just beyond the hedge maze." "No, I <i>insist</i> we shall visit Keichsfaer this year." "They always hold The Shattering there." The woman replies. "I do not see why this pertains to me," huffs the girl, still crossing her arms. She looks eager now, wishing to tread upon the battle. "It will be dangerous." "We have a carriage." The woman simply smiles, she does not give in so easily. In her eyes, it is hard to ignore the blessing warming her heart. The lady simply reminds her of...<i>No, I will not go that far.</i> "I hear sometimes, and they are loud beyond the walls." She explains. Slowly, she raise a finger and points to the table. "I am not demanding, but asking. It is not my wish either, but it is yours, and yours are even a greater demand." Arms fall to her side as she stare once more, unblinking, at the lady. Words stops at the tip of her tongue. When the silence becomes unbearable, the girl turns her head slightly to the side. The room stirs again when the woman lets out a sigh, nodding. "Your words are my command." The lady does not react, her eyes now fixated on her shoes. "I am forever grateful. Good night," she finally says, and before long, she turns toward the doorway. The woman shuffles to the desk to begin her work when she hears her lady speak again. "If I may pursue, should you send a letter…I wish for a prize. A souvenir." "A souvenir?" she asks, though she heard it well the first time. It is baffling, to say the least; the lady does not find pleasure in small trinkets and favors. But this night, Lady Milena of House Voryev asks of her not one, but two favors. To her luck, the woman is left alone, sparring her of words. Stepping back, she falls to the chair, deciding if she should feel amused or bewildered. Laugh slips out instead as she rubs her temple. Her skin itches, feeling the soft scratch of something wrinked, so she looks at her hand. She nearly forgotten the crumbled letter, and she sucks in the air with her teeth. Moving the letter closer to the source of light, it reads: <i>To Sulin, my bane...</i> The flame catches it fast, curling the paper into smoke and dust. She refuses to see the rest, she has already wasted enough years. In the quiet of the room, the rot begins to feed as she dips the pen to the spilled ink to write...<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "to her only son hundred miles away." "00">> <<set $gender to "male">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "to her only daughter hundred miles away." "00">> <<set $gender to "female">> <</link>> </div> <div class="choice-item"> <<link "to her only child hundred miles away." "00">> <<set $gender to "person">> <</link>> </div> </div><</nobr>>

<h2>Twine + Sugarcube</h2> <li>Twine by Chris Klimas - <a href="https://twinery.org/cookbook/" target="_blank">Twine Cookbook</a></li> <li>Sugarcube by Thomas Michael Edwards - <a href="https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs/" target="_blank">Sugarcube 2 Documentation</a></li> <li>Custom Macros - <a href="https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2" target="_blank">ChapelR Custom Macros Collection</a></li> <h2>Template</h2> <li>Icons - <a href="https://fontawesome.com/" target="_blank"> Font Awesome Icons</a></li> <li>Fonts - <a href="https://fonts.google.com/" target="_blank">Google Fonts</a>, <a href="https://opendyslexic.org/" target="_blank">Open Dyslexic</a></li> <li>CSS + HTML Tutorials - <a href="https://www.w3schools.com/">W3Schools</a></li> <h2>Disclaimer</h2> PROJECT TITLE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

<center>This game features scenes with sound. For a better experience, please adjust volume or wear headphones.<center> [[➤|pred]]</center>

<<audio "lantern" stop>><<set $chapter to "01">><div style="text-align: center;"><h2 style="color: #EBCC78; text-decoration: underline;">chapter 01</h2></div>You are awake before the sixth hour, and the sleep clings to your body. You remain in bed for a while, feeling the comfort brushing against your skin until your mind send tiny alarm bells. You are still dressed in the same clothing as the night before. <<if $bg is "S">>The uniform hangs on you like a burden, its fabric weighing out down and you could have sworn you’d kicked off your boots.<</if>> The bed is empty when you shake off the drowsiness from your mind. Milena seemed to have left, and you are not sure what to make out of it. Sunlight spills through the narrow window as you rise from the bed. Rubbing your eyes, you half glance around your room, searching for your old wardrobe. You know you’ll be staying here longer than intended; a change of clothes feels natural. And your mind still wants answers, something does not sit right with you. Ignoring the creaking of the hinges, you look through your old clothings in the wardrobe and decided to wear <<nobr>> <div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[a simple pinkish gown with matching scarf.|chp1.1][$fit = "pink gown"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[a deep green cotton dress with a black sash tied around your waist.|chp1.1][$fit = "green dress"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[a linen brown coat with white tunic and trousers.|chp1.1][$fit = "brown coat"]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[a plain tunic underneath the buttoned black overcoat and gray pants.|chp1.1][$fit = "black overcoat"]]</div> </div> <</nobr>>

<<if $height is "grew much taller">> <<set $h = "very tall">> <<elseif $height is "grew taller">> <<set $h = "tall">> <<elseif $height is "grew slightly taller">> <<set $h = "average height">> <<else>> <<set $h = "short">> <</if>> <<nobr>> <div class="choices"> <div class="choice-item">[[Yes path.|01]]</div> <div class="choice-item">[[Yes path2.|01]]</div> <div class="choice-item"> <<if $bg is "S">> [[No path.|warning]] <<elseif $bg is "M">> [[No path.|chp1.M]]  <<else>> [[No path.|chp1.D]] <</if>></div> <div class="choice-item"> <<if $bg is "S">> [[No path2.|warning]] <<elseif $bg is "M">> [[No path2.|chp1.M]]  <<else>> [[No path2.|chp1.D]] <</if>> </div> <</nobr>>

<<audio "saint" loop play volume 0.5>> <<fadein 0s>><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;">They say a Zeimar will undergo four deaths.</span></center><</fadein>><<fadein 4s>><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;">The first will meet a violent end.</span></center><</fadein>><<fadein 10s>><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;">The second will bleed vengeance.</span></center><</fadein>><<fadein 15s>><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;">The third will reek of peace.</span></center><</fadein>><<fadein 20s>><center><span style="color: #EBCC78;">The last death to come is change.</span></center><</fadein>> <center>[[➤|start]]</center>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><center>the first will face a violent death...</center></span><center> [[➤|pred3]]</center>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><center>the second will face vengeance...</center></span><center> [[➤|pred4]]</center>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><center>the third will face peace...</center></span><center> [[➤|pred5]]</center>

<span style="color: #EBCC78;"><center>and the last death to come is change.</center></span><center>[[➤|start]]</center>