Completed [Nyka] Dominion, or the tragedy of the commons [Ialari]

[Tarot]

"I see," said the doctor, and if he doubted Ialari's tale he did not show it openly. "Well, it's sad to hear about your colleague, but the Aperture is no joke. Most outsiders never get why we built our walls around that place. It's something only a Nykan can understand. Anyways, try not to overexert yourself with your visitors. It might have taken you a full season to recover had you been human, but you should still avoid any strain on your muscles for several days. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm returning to my rounds." The medic walked out of the room briskly and closed the door behind him. For a while, Ialari was left alone with her thoughts and distant voices in the streets outside. Life was going on as usual, despite a string of heinous murders. It took a lot to impress a Nykan, and pretty much nothing could change their daily schedule. A city where people ran regular head counts to make sure everyone was still alive at the end of the day was not easily moved to fear. The first thing she noticed was a feeling of cold creeping into the room. For an instant the possibility of Berliotz having found her became very real, but then the door opened and three monks - one woman and two men - came in, hardly making any amount of noise. The feeling of cold was seeping from their bodies, especially the woman. There was nothing remarkable about their appearance, and that was because it wasn't their real appearance. As soon as the door closed behind their backs, their faces and clothes began to twist, and their disguise bled away in a myriad dark petals that dissolved like sparks on the floor. What was left after the transformation could chill the blood of even a hardened man, if he happened to recognize who was standing in front of him. The woman was a dark-haired beauty, somewhat aloof, with the lithe body of a dancer. She was dressed in a flowing black dress that fell elegantly behind her. Her two companions were tall and stout, covered in thick robes that left absolutely no skin exposed. They wore glimmering jackal masks on their faces, and they seemed unable to make any noise no matter what they did. The woman sat on a stool next to Ialari's bed, adjusting the hem of her dress, before addressing her. "Hello, Ialari," she said, without smiling. "We have never met, but I am well aware of you. You have been sending a sizable amount of people my way. I go by many names, but I suppose you know me as Dira. Today I have come for you." She blinked and tilted her head. "Well, not in that way… yet. I understand I am not the guest anyone would want by their sickbed. I wished to make your acquaintance, and offer you a deal. About Rok… but it's 'Dominion' to you. Same thing. I know you've been given the scroll." The goddess turned her eye towards the bag in which the precious item still rested. Her mouth twitched in a way that was trying to be pleasant, but wasn't quite succeeding. "Rok was a bad idea back then. They all are… Rok, Gug-darak, Qishadzrik, the lot of them. I still think it is a bad idea. In the end, it always falls upon me to clean up when they go awry, and I have to rush. I -hate- rushing. So I spoke against you having the scroll, but naturally, who ever listens to me when it comes to policy?" Dira gazed at Ialari straight in the eye and smiled coldly. The very light streaming through the window seemed dimmer, paler with the goddess in the room. Ialari's own shadow looked sickly, as if about to fall over. "I'd like you to prove me wrong. Show me how Rok can be used profitably… for example in regards to a certain soul whose capture has proven quite embarrassing for my followers." The two jackal-masked bodyguards stood quietly, not a muscle moving. It might have been just an impression, but Ialari couldn't see their chests heaving at all.

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari didn't know or really care whether or not the human believed her story. It was a story meant to deflect any further questions and that was it. She remained sitting in the bed while examining her robes and taking stock of her gear. The robes themselves were in poor condition, torn and bloodstained yet still somewhat functional. Perhaps, if there were time sometime later, she would get them cleaned and tailored; there had to be a human somewhere in the city useful enough for such a thing. She half-listened as the healer spoke of the Aperature and of the fragility of humans. When he appeared ready to depart, she nodded and returned her attention to her robes. She couldn't help however but wonder who may wish to speak to her. Of course there were the gate guards that knew of her arrival in the city as did the monks at the bridge. From what she could remember though, those monks no longer lived. As for the guards, would they even remember her?

The muffled sounds of city life drifted in from the outside as Ialari sat. A heavy sigh slipped past her lips as she paused her fiddlings and sat her robe on her lap. Ialari, what are you going to do know? She asked herself. You've left home, friends and family. You've traveled across your known world. You saved the undead from final destruction and even tried your hand at being a golem. You re-discovered a divine secret in the bowels of an ancient city after a terrible encounter... Ialari's mind stuttered over the thoughts of her encounter with Berliotz. She was even now, still struggling with rebuilding her own mind after the invasion. You have learned so much, come so far in such a short amount of time. What next? What in Izurdin's name will I do now? While her desire to eliminate the human threat from the world was strong, she couldn't help but feel that maybe she was giving too much importance to the humans. They were but insects to her; squashed just as easy. She had been given a gift from the gods; entrusted with a secret hidden for longer than any living being, even un-living, could remember.

A highly religious person, Ialari had been raised to believe the gods had a hand in everything that happened in one's life. Birth, life and all that occurred during it, and even death were all governed by the gods. Every day Ialari awoke was a blessing from the gods. Even her dreams as well as nightmares, were of the gods. Her very existence; her strength, endurance, creativity, all were influenced by the divine. If they chose her for something this important, she would have to live up to their expectations of her. Why did the gods choose you anyway? Sure, your a perfect isurian specimen; a child of Izurdin, yet of all the isur, of all the sentient beings in existence, why you? Ialari stopped for a moment as she realized she was thinking in the third person. The gods have a plan for you...me, that much is certain. Perhaps...perhaps my own goals should come second for now.

Ialari's thoughts were cut short by an oddly strong feeling of cold that crept into the room. Eyes widening, Ialari looked for a weapon; something to defend herself as she thought Berliotz may have found her. There was her staff against the wall; its serpent-like shape topped with an open-mouthed snake. It would be ineffective against such a monster. The door slowly opened and Ialari realized that if Berliotz had really found her, there would be crashing, slamming and screaming in his wake. When the door opened, Ialari was greeted not with the sight of Berliotz in all of his terrifying, hateful glory. Instead, a women flanked by two men, silently drifted into the room. The cold feeling sunk into her body deeper than a heavy Kalean winter.

As the door closed behind them, the trio immediately underwent a startling transformation. Ialari had been exposed to quite a bit of trauma over the past several days; she had experienced horrors that no mortal should witness and live to tell about. Even after all of that, she now found herself staring at the trio, the women in particular, with nothing short of awe. As the woman approached and took a seat on the stool next to Ialari's bed; just a few short feet away, Ialari swallowed hard and found it difficult to keep her head raised and her eyes focused on the woman. The woman spoke a name, Dira. Ialari, recognized immediately the name. The isurian word for Death was much different yet in any language, that name was recognizable. Ialari couldn't help but remain still, every part of her being screaming out warnings as the instinct to run was very strong.

Ialari listened silently as the Goddess of Death spoke. The second divine being in a few days had found Ialari worthy of gracing her with their presence. Even if this was death itself looking her in the eye, Ialari couldn't help but feel a bit of pride. How many people actually got to speak with death with the Goddess not on duty? Ialari's gaze followed that of the Goddess as they both looked upon the scroll. So Death didn't want you to have Dominion. Ialari thought to herself. Ah but think what could happen if you proved Death wrong.

It was then that Dira looked Ialari straight in the eye and flashed a smile. It was like the light in the room faded several levels almost instantly. Dira, Death herself was taking the first step in a potential deal. Deals, now that is was what Ialari knew. Her divine father afterall was the God of Industry and without deals, there was no industry. The soul that Dira spoke of could only be Berliotz in Ialari's mind. So she wants you to use Dominion to capture Berliotz. Now that's an interesting proposal. She wants you to do what her own followers could not. Wetting her lips and swallowing in hopes of moistening her desert-dry throat, Ialari spoke for the first time since Dira's arrival. "Mistress Dira, I beg you please accept my humble thanks for your choosing to appear before one such as I in this capacity. If you wish me to capture this soul for you and if indeed it is the one I think it is, I'll do so." Ialari paused for but a second and then continued. "However, you are offering a deal. There is no deal agreement without a counter offer." Dira had been pretty calm and casual, even patient. Ialari hoped that would continue as her own thoughts interrupted her again. Are you really going to do this? Are you going to make a deal with Death? Oh but if she accepts, think of what you could gain; Death's favor. But a brief second passed before Ialari continued, "If I succeed in capturing that which your own followers could not, I would have your mark; a symbol of your approval and blessing that I am the right choice for Dominion. Death's terms were given and now were Ialari's. Ialari sat there in front of Death, engaged in what the isur viewed as one of the holiest of acts; a business deal.

[Tarot]

Dira tilted her head at Ialari's counter offer and her lips curled in the ghost of a smile. It was a humorless thing, with about as much mirth behind it as a skull's empty grin. "So you would have my mark, Ialari. Do you know what that entails? There are few in this world who respect life as much as the true worshippers of death. I have no need for just another killer... for life is a thing of complexity and wonder. I am no Uldr, this much should be clear to you. But life also clings to itself beyond reason, beyond measure, and refuses to accept new possibilities. If there are one hundred worlds and you pick one, you are dooming the remaining ninety-nine to oblivion. I am a force that keeps that from happening. I am unkind, often harsh, but true. I ask the same of my associates - they are sharp scissors to sever the thread of life when the time comes, no sooner no later. I expect their personal feelings not to intervene, whether that thread belongs to their worst enemy or their own lover." The goddess of death gave Ialari a scrutinizing look and continued. "You don't have to answer me now. Ask me again when the one known as Amir Berliotz is mine and ready to face his punishment. If you still want my mark then, I will honor your request. For the time being, I suggest that you focus on your task. It is not an easy one. I picked up the remnants of about fifty ghosts on my way here, and consigned them back to the cycle. That was Berliotz's doing the night you were wounded. The longer you wait, the more his mind reassembles itself. A lucid Berliotz will find you in no time, so you had better hurry. I want him trapped in the Ukalas with your Rok - with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, I will take care of things from there myself. Learning how to do so under such time constraints and actually getting there, now that is the difficult part. It's one of the Seven Robes versus you... and Miss Sahova up there - seriously, you can come out, I am not here for you either." Shalla's ethereal head peered through the ceiling uncertainly. "Help Ialari deal with Berliotz and I'll give you a ten-year reprieve to deal with your unfinished business before I give the order to have you collected," Dira said. Then, her eyes back to the Isur: "Is there anything else you wish to ask? If not, you really should get to your studies. Rok is not that complicated once you're initiated the way you are. Back then everyone and their dog was doing it. But it still took them seasons to do anything meaningful with it. You have days at most. Soon you'll have to start getting on the move to stay ahead of Berliotz as you learn. You are pretty much alone, in an unknown city which views you with suspicion, against an enemy that needs no sleep or food, outpowered in every way. The shadow of Death is fluttering upon your face, Ialari, but nothing is certain yet..." Dira's voice trailed off pensively as she seemed to consider the possibilities.

[Ialari Pythone]

Dira's smile sent an icy blade slicing down Ialari's spine. Despite feeling uneasy in the presence of Death, Ialari held her own smile as Dira seemed to accept on some level, the counter-offer. As Dira explained a bit of the nature of holding her favor, her words only served to create more questions as well as irritation in Ialari's wounded mind. She doubts you still. She thinks of you as nothing more than a hopeless murderer. She's expecting you to fail in the task she's laid before you. Ialari dismissed her thoughts for a moment once she noticed Dira's scrutinizing look.

The conversation was brought back to Berliotz. Ialari understood all too well just how dangerous the mage was. His memories were her own even if they were now shattered, broken and splintered within her head. Their echoes still threatened to further crack her already damaged mind. If Berliotz is powerful enough as a fractured ghost to break you the way he has, how will you possibly be able to capture him? Dominion? You haven't much of a clue as to how to use it. The only experience you have with it was granted by the blasted memories of a long forgotten dead mage who's knowledge of it was less than that of a child. Ialari silently cursed her own doubts as she heard Dira mention Shalla. Looking up, Ialari saw her ethereal companion. A soft sigh of relief slipped past Ialari's lips knowing that Shalla had survived, in a manner of speaking, their run-in with Berliotz. The unfinished business Dira commented on was something Ialari hadn't considered before. Was there something else driving Shalla to help like she had? Ialari knew that Shalla had ulterior motives for lending her aid but hadn't given it much thought before.

Questions for Shalla would have to wait as now was the time for a few last questions to Dira. "Mistress Dira, I'm aware of how little time I have so questions, not really. However, since this could be one of the last opportunities I have in life to share words, I will." Ialari swallowed a lump forming in her throat; it took a good amount of willpower to face Death directly in conversation. "You mention life and how it clings to itself without reason and how the shadow of death flutters upon my face." Ialari chose her next words carefully.

"My life has been rather short. Up until arriving in Sahova and the experiences that followed, I never gave any thought to death being a part of my life. I think that is the perception so many must have; they don't think about their own death until it's too late and they have wasted their lives. They waste their lives thinking they have plenty of time to do all that they've planned, thinking that they'll discover some greater meaning to their lives. When the time comes, sooner or later, and You are there tapping on their shoulder telling them their time is up, it's then that they realize they've spent their lives doing nothing. With others, they spend their lives looking for ways to escape Your touch and never fully live." Ialari imagined that Dira had heard all manner of justifications as to why the living should go on living and avoid death.

"I don't claim to know all the secrets of life or death. Yet, since leaving my home and my people, I've came so close to meeting you on different terms many times. I've spent time with those who've gone to immense lengths to avoid you. I've witnessed countless deaths through the eyes of a madman who himself has cheated you time and time again. I know that one day, maybe real soon, maybe after many more have passed, You or yours will come for me. Strangely enough, I don't fear that moment. Now I'm sure you've heard it all before but please hear me out. How many among the living can claim to have been graced with the presence of two deities in four days? How many can claim to have been granted a divine gift lost to the world for longer than even Archmage Maeshan can recall? How many can claim to have been approached by Death herself and asked to perform a task that even...that even your most devoted followers can't succeed at? I don't fear dying; there are far worse things in life than death. I've purpose and my faith in the gods; in Izurdin for giving me strength, in Vayt for without weakness there is no strength, in Siku for her blessings upon my family and yes, faith in you Mistress. You've graced me with your presence, blessed me with this conversation and even your doubt in me only serves to strengthen my faith in the Gods. Whichever of you decide to claim me as their own, I know that one will. So even if I don't achieve all that I've set for myself, I know that this is only one stage of my existence. That said, I plan to make the most of my life and prove that I'm the right choice for the gifts you all have blessed me with. So if indeed the shadow of death flutters upon my face, I say to it, either take me now or stay out of my way. I've work to do." As she spoke, Ialari considered her own words. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much her faith had grown. The fact that Death sat before her, asking her to do something that even Death could not do was life changing. If she doubted you, she wouldn't be here; she wouldn't be talking to you or asking for your assistance. Seriously, one of the most powerful forces in the world has chosen you to carry out Her will. Izurdin in the flesh gave you Dominion. You better not fail or fractured sanity will be the least of your worries...I won't fail, the gods have faith in me and I in them. Caring not whether Dira could sense her thoughts, a crooked smile sneaked across Ialari's face. It was a smile that only true faith could bring.

When her conversation with Dira finally ended, Ialari whispered a prayer of thanks to Goddess and reached for her things. We need to find a safer place. Someplace where the humans won't interfere." She looked to Shalla questioningly.

[Tarot]

Dira's eyebrow rose in curiosity as Ialari began her speech. It was a long one, apparently, but the goddess made no move to interrupt at any point. She sat quietly, flanked by her jackal-masked bodyguards, hands politely on her lap. Shalla hovered in a corner of the room, not fully convinced by Dira's reassurances. A deal she may be offering, but the gods were infamous for changing their plans whenever another pawn was to be sacrificed to the cause. Ialari spoke at length, of death and what it meant to others and herself, of things done and things yet to be done, of gifts she was thankful for. In the end, she rose without a noise and prepared to leave. "I hear all and forget nothing, Ialari. Every dying breath is my stash of treasure. Likewise, your words are forever mine to hold." She made for the door, but stopped halfway and turned. "Many threads would be left hanging if you died here. Your ancestor's work needs finished. The man known as Qiao, the shadow of death looms on him also. But above all, the great golem lies in a sarcophagus of her own making, dreaming and gaining strength. When she finds out you have Rok and other secrets at your fingertips - and she will find out - she will come for you, far more dangerous than any Berliotz. We shall meet again, Ialari." And with that, Dira and her bodyguards transformed back into the monks whose images they had borrowed at first, and left the room as quietly as they had come. "Did she mean to cheer you up as a parting gift?" Shalla mused to herself. "Anyway, I've been doing some scouting. That and I've made sure no-one tried to steal your things. Let's just say I've gotten quite familiar with the city and its layout. I've taken note of several abandoned houses we could hide in. You could hold out for a while with your supplies. The main issue here is that you kind of stick out. If Berliotz sobers up enough to start questioning people, there will be those who remember you. The less you're seen, the better." As the ghost spoke, the bag in which the scroll was stored began to rustle and shake of its own accord. The scroll tube she had acquired from Izurdin's own hand floated in mid-air and then gently hovered towards Ialari's hands. When it landed there, the seal dissolved like snow in Syna's presence and several scrolls inside slipped out, straight into the Isur's grasp. She caught glimpses of an alien script, all curves and spiky triangles, sometimes written left to right, sometimes right to left or top to bottom or bottom to top. Pictures were plentiful with caption running in circles around them. What was incredible was Ialari's ability to read the script despite never having been exposed to it before. Shalla also caught a sideways look at the scrolls. "They say that of Qalaya's script, passed down with her gnosis. The universal language that speaks to the heart. Looks like you've got your crash course on Dominion right there." It certainly looked like it. The first scroll covered very basic topics. It quickly got harder from there, with enough material to keep Ialari, or anyone, occupied for a long time. Just as Dira had said, however, the basics were not impossible to acquire in a relatively short time span. Whether that was enough to defeat Berliotz remained to be seen. Shalla floated in silence, waiting for the Isur's plan.

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari listened intently to Dira's response and was left feeling more puzzled than she was before Death's arrival. Mention of her ancestor's work caused all manner of questions to explode in her mind. Then there was the name of one she had almost forgot, Qiao. A decrepit, rotting husk of a vile, venomous being, Qiao thought to use Ialari to his own ends. Also, Drainira, the former mastermind and puppeteer of Sahova. Ialari took a quick mental tally of the infinitely powerful individuals whom she had made enemies out of. The odds were against her to put it mildly and at that moment, Ialari felt Dira's presence more than ever before. Death's words, "We shall meet again..." echoed in her mind as the shadow left.

Ialari turned to Shalla, "My thanks for keeping an eye on things. I must say you're proving to be more of a mystery the longer I know you." Ialari took a moment to consider Shalla's news of a potential hideout. Indeed Ialari was something of an oddity in Nyka and with the recent murders coinciding with her arrival, things would only get more difficult. Ialari was about to continue when her attention was immediately drawn the movement within the nearby bag holding the scrollcase. She watched with wide eyes as the tube floated to her before landing in her hands. As the seal dissolved and the scrolls found their way into her hands, she marveled at the odd writing upon them. Though the strange text was unrecognizable, to Ialari it somehow made sense. While the basics appeared easy enough to grasp, the greater complexities of Dominion were a completely different story. Indeed it would take far longer to understand the upper limits of the discipline than it would the beginning methods. As her dark eyes traced the strange characters on the scroll, Ialari felt as though an icy hand had been laid upon her shoulder; a reminder that death hadn't completely left her alone. She slowly brought her metallic hand to her shoulder while she considered possible options for how to proceed with the monumental task before her.

Now, how can I use this to trap Berliotz? Ialari thought to herself. He's a ghost, consumed by undying rage, able to pass through solid material, blink out of sight and reappear a short distance away. Although Ialari had some amount of recent experience dealing with ghosts, she realized how little she really knew about them. Looking up from the scroll to Shalla, Ialari noted her companion's translucent form and briefly wondered again what caused someone to hold on so tight to life. "Alright, I don't know if this will work or not but from what little I've seen just by skimming over some of this, I think I may have an idea. One of those abandoned houses, preferably one with two levels, maybe I can Dominate one of the rooms and create trap of sorts. We set up in a room above the Dominated one with a hole cut in the floor. Cover the hole and create a doorway from the cover. I...I will be the bait and hopefully he will still be consumed with wanting to destroy me. When he comes after me, I kick the cover and spring the trap." Ialari paused a moment then added, "The catch though is that somehow we need to ensure that he would fall. You were able to create a barrier last time. Is it possible to somehow craft something that could be used to weigh him down; to make him fall? Maybe something I could throw at him or on him that wouldn't simply pass through him? Otherwise, I guess I could try and drag him in by myself and hope that Dira takes him before I fall to oblivion. With so little time to work with, there isn't much of it to come up with a really well-thought out plan. This way, a bit of paint, a hammer and some nails, you're own spiritual touch to things and maybe an oath or two, maybe we can at the most, succeed or at the least, make our final moments go quick. If you've got any other ideas, I'm open." Ialari rolled the scrolls and put them back in the case before gathering her gear, dressing and preparing to leave.

[Tarot]

"This entire proposition is quite... problematic, to be honest," Shalla considered. She watched Ialari grab her gear and prepare to leave, assessing her physical condition with the clinical eye of someone used to evaluating bodies for future use. She didn't like what she saw. The woman in the room was still the husk of the powerful Isur who could climb and trek with ease. Ialari should be resting in bed, not moving around like that. "Not that we have much of a choice." Shalla faded into near-invisibility, only the glint of her eyes showing, if you knew where to look for it. She trailed Ialari as she tested the door. It opened without a sound. There was no-one outside. The corridor was lit by three windows and was otherwise empty. The room seemed to be upstairs, with a flight of stairs that wasn't hard to locate. "He'll probably attack right away when he sees you. Charge right at you. He's not lucid; I wouldn't be, either, if I'd been split in ten and stitched together. If we could find... a mirror, or something... and place it in front of the door of the room you're going to transform. You could stand behind, I don't know, a curtain to the side so only your reflection would be visible from his point of view. He'd crash right through the mirror and into the trap - or slip through if he doesn't have a body. If the plan fails you could still run into the room and cross your fingers." The late afternoon breeze was somewhat chilly on Ialari's face as they stepped outside undisturbed. It reminded her that she still felt a bit sick and light-headed. "Not exactly a great plan, I know. It'd be fitting, though. He prided himself on being as accurate a Morpher as any mirror." There weren't many people outside, but those who were out took casual notice of Ialari's presence. There wasn't particular hostility in their eyes, but their gazes lingered long enough that they would remember the event. Shalla led the Isur through the maze of Nykan alleys and to a two-story building. "According to local gossip, the owner was murdered half a season ago right here in his home by some burglar. A merchant, I think. The heirs can't take possession until the monks get around to 'purifying' the building with some rite or another. It's also locked." No-one was around. Shalla slipped a ghostly hand through the door and seemed to apply some spiritual pressure. Ialari heard a click. "Was." Beyond the door a sizable antechamber was laid out for them to see. It seemed to be a typical upper class home, slightly dusty but well-furnished. A dining hall and a kitchen downstairs, three bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom occupied half the floor, the two smaller bedrooms were connected by a door. Lively colors as to be expected of a Nykan.

[Ialari Pythone]

As Ialari gathered her gear, she failed to notice Shalla's analyzing gaze. Indeed it took no small amount of effort on Ialari's part to keep from losing her composure to the pain that echoed throughout her body with each movement, no matter how small. Even her otherwise invulnerable metallic arm seemed to ache. Then there was the part of her mind; the strange mental words spoken in her own voice that told her she needed to just give up. Her mind and her body conspired against her leaving her with but one remaining force to drive her, faith. Repeating over and over to herself the importance placed upon her by her divine father and those gods who saw fit to grant her their own faith, it was all that Ialari had left to keep her going.

Ialari exited her room and found the descending stairs shortly after. As they made their way down the corridor, to the stairs and out of the building, Ialari clenched her fist. She focused on the feeling of the muscles in her hand and fingers as they contracted; on the feeling of metal against metal as the tips of her fingers pressed into the palm of her hand. Shalla's suggestion on how to set up the trap was sound. It was simple yet deceptive in a way that appealed to Ialari quite nicely. The more Ialari considered it, the better she liked Shalla's idea as it involved the least personal, physical interaction with Berliotz. Ialari wasn't sure she could take another round of possession from the wizard.

Ialari paid little attention to the few people she passed on the way to the house. She was aware that she was an oddity in the city and that some of the people considered her somehow linked to the recent wave of murders. The last thing she needed was to draw even more attention to herself. Quietly to Shalla as they walked, Ialari said "Your plan, it may not be great but it's simple and logical. I don't think I'd survive another close encounter with that thing. I...I'm only a few breaths from joining you as it is. So the simpler the better."

Once Ialari and her ethereal companion arrived at their destination, Shalla mentioned what had happened to the former owner. The thought briefly occurred to Ialari that the murdered owner might still be around in some form. With all the contact with ghosts that Ialari had lately, she couldn't help but think of them more than she would have before. A short prayer to Dira came to mind asking for protection from any angry spirits that may still reside in the house.

When Ialari found the door to be locked, she considered simple breaking the door lock with her hand. The thought however brought a ripple of pain to her shoulder that caused her to tremble a bit. Maybe you should just turn around and run away. Nobody would blame you, you've been through enough already. Look at yourself, you can't even open a door. What makes you think you can defeat one of the Seven Robes? You lack the skill, the mentality and now even the strength to prevail. The words thought in her own voice teased and tormented her; eating away at her like a disease and attempting to drain her resolve like a sickness. It was a poison, flowering in her mind as it tried to gnawed away at her faith as venom would at flesh and muscle. When Shalla unlatched the door, the voice was silenced as Ialari blinked a couple times.

Stepping inside the home, Ialari casually glanced around. In her travels from Sultros, she rarely spent much time in any one place long enough to ever really look around. With the shadow of death hovering so close, Ialari took a moment to actually see what was around her. Back home, there was color and design yet it was much different than that which she looked upon in Nyka. The colors in Sultros were more subtle and blended while in Nyka they were crisp with sharp contrasting edges. It was a simple thing, a small moment in time yet Ialari silently cursed herself for the distraction. Her attention returned to the layout of the home. "Well, we should get started." Ialari slowly pulled herself up the stairs of the home to view the bedrooms. In the master, she found something that fit the plan quite well, a large mirror leaning against one wall. It wasn't something one would find in a lesser domicile so at least luck was on their side Ialari thought.

Ialari examined the upper floor as she tried to map out how exactly she would go about setting up the trap. She would need to dominate one room while being able to set up the mirror at its door so that it could catch her reflection while she stood elsewhere. "Alright, start looking around, we need to find a good angle for the reflection. You do that while I see what I can do with this." Ialari pulled forth the scrollcase.

[Tarot]

So here they were, the moment of truth. Ialari had wanted this power so badly, and now it was the only thing between her and certain death. Yet this was the way of the magic user: a broad roadway at first, bright enough to entice the fool, but a narrow, treacherous path near the end. And what made it narrow were the bodies of those who came before you. Ialari poured over the scrolls until her head hurt. Sometimes she felt like she could grasp it all, and the next moment she would curse her slowness, feeling like she couldn't make any sense of it all. Meanwhile, Shalla explored the house and shared her verdict with the Isur. "The best way to go about it is to dominate one of the two smaller bedrooms. You'll stand in the other bedroom. I suggest drawing the curtains too - dim lighting will make the trick harder to see. There's a folding paper screen downstairs you could hide behind. The mirror will do nicely. A couple candles should give you enough light to see and not give you away immediately." Of course, that was assuming Ialari could actually dominate the room. Oh, it didn't sound too hard in principle: cover up a space in pretty lines and curves and it's ready for use. In practice, not so much. Straight lines must be quite straight, the curves - especially near the corners - were to be the right degree of curviness. The straight lines were to intersect at given angles and none other; and after a set number of intersections they were to cease abruptly. Each pattern wasn't too complex on its own, but the sum across a large space was another matter. And if the floor was hard enough, you had to dominate the ceiling too. First thing first, you had to dispose of the furniture. All of it. The inner space had to be empty. The small chandelier was a goner, as well. Ialari found a wooden ladder that barely held her weight. Other than that, standing on top of other furniture was really the only option. Shopping for supplies was way too dangerous at this point - even Shalla never left the house for long, and only to check on the neighboring streets. Were Berliotz to discover them now, it would be the end. Thankfully, they came across chalk, charcoal and paint and brushes in the house, thus ensuring the Isur could actually complete the task. As she readied herself for the actual Domination, all she had left in terms of food was just a couple waterskins and some stale bread. There was no time for sleep no matter how badly she might have needed some. It took her two days just to absorb enough theory to attempt the thing. It was at dawn on the third day that she finally felt ready to begin working on the real thing. "No-one mourned me when I died," Shalla told her during a break, "no-one even knew. I was just a secret experiment. I just... vanished. One day I was there, the next day they just removed all proof I'd ever existed. I can tell you no-one mourned Berliotz, either. Or Qiao. Mashaen had a family, but he neglected them badly to work on his backstabbing little golem daughter. They didn't forgive him, even though he accepted the post on Sahova to protect them. Tears do not fall easily for those who involve themselves in magic. How many would mourn you, Ialari Pythone?"

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari nodded her agreement with Shalla's appraisal of the rooms and how to set up the trap for Berliotz. The simplicity of the plan brought no small amount of brow furrowing from Ialari as she set to clearing out the room to be dominated. All it would take is the slightest of unplanned variables to cause the whole thing to come crashing down on you. Sure, he's a rampaging, rage-filled ghost of an ancient mage with really only one focus right now but if you fail in the littlest detail, you're doomed. It was those kind of thoughts that haunted Ialari as she moved the furniture from the room. At one point, she became so distracted by her own thoughts that she nearly fell from the top of the ladder while attempting to remove the small chandelier in the middle of the room. Cursing the voice in her head, Ialari shut it out the best she could following the near incident.

When the room was cleared, she sat down in the center of the room and began pouring over the knowledge contained within the scrolls. Some of the basics of drawing the lines required were similar to some of the principles of magecrafting albeit on a much larger scale. As she continued her study, the lines and patterns needed appeared to be much more numerous than any of the small magecrafting projects she had ever worked on in the past. As she read and re-read the scrolls, Ialari would pause from time to time and close her eyes. She tried to clear her mind and picture the lines and patterns in her head. The isur bore a crafter's mindset and for them, everything could be broken down into pieces and parts. In her mind's-eye, Ialari drew lines throughout the room and brought them together in shapes and patterns as mentioned in the scrolls. When she felt she could reconstruct the patterns from memory, she would return to the scrolls. Throughout it all, the passing of days went virtually unnoticed until hunger began drumming away at Ialari's gut.

Ialari staved off some of her hunger with what little food remained but it was still not quite enough to ease the discomfort. Discovering supplies enough in the house to actually perform the task of dominating the room was a little more comforting although Ialari's injuries, mental and physical, combined with hunger and the stress of all that was happening, were getting harder and harder to ignore. Before beginning the final preparations late at night on the second day, Ialari could go no longer without a break. Her eyes were burning from all the reading and the dull pain that blanketed her body had begun to throb with more urgent intensity.

She took a few bites of what little stale bread remained before Shalla broke the silence with mention of her departure from her past life and how none had missed her when she was gone. Then there was the question of Ialari. Would anyone miss her when she was gone? It was something that she had thought of from time to time ever since leaving home. "My father teaches auristics back home and my brothers study their own magical paths. They were always at the Tower or off on some magical pursuit. My mother magecrafts items for the Forge, Izurdin's temple." Ialari took a sip of water from a skin. "As a child growing up, I saw less and less of them all over the years as they pursued their own devices. There was this place not far from my house, a small park; my people fill our cities with parks and adorn them all with fantastic sculptures. I used to climb up the park's central statue. It was a towering depiction of Izurdin with one arm raised, his hand open. The idea was to inspire people to imagine what the Father might hold in that hand. I would often sit in his hand, look into his marble eyes and just talk. I would tell him about my day, my thoughts, fears, I would even tell him jokes. He always looked as though he were watching me while listening intently. He never brushed me away or tried to talk about himself. He never interrupted me or ignored me."

Ialari absently rubbed her metallic arm, the symbol of her bond with her deity, as she spoke; her voice a little shakey. "Will my family mourn me when I die? None of them tried to stop me when I decided to leave in my own pursuits of the unknown. Will my people, who I have endured so much for, who I would willing sacrifice all that I am for, miss me when I'm gone? No. There are none who would notice my passing and fewer who would care anyway." Ialari seemed not to notice the few tears that formed and fell. A moment later, she wiped her face and took another sip of water, her voice steadied more as she continued speaking. "Shalla, I can't allow myself to worry about those who may or may not mourn me. I think about it but can't dwell on it. If we fail in this, it won't matter who mourns us. We'll have more things to worry about than that."

When they had taken enough of a break, Ialari gathered the items she would need to begin dominating the room. Dawn had arrived as Ialari put the first piece of chalk to the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured the first steps in her mind. Slowly, she opened her eyes and began to draw.