Closed Exorcism of a Lifetime

Severus the Serpent gets possessed and the Cravens are called to help.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Chameleon on May 21st, 2017, 10:47 am

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85th Spring 516


7th Bell, Abandoned Houses

Severus the Serpent moved through the empty streets with an observant look in his eyes, following the outline of houses marked out only by the softest glow from Syna. The roofs jutted out at strange angles, dips and holes marked in them where the light poured through. On most, doors and window shutters fluttered open and shut as an imaginary breeze pushed past them, but there were no inhabitants to rush to close them, no figures seen in the glimpses inside.

Shame. The speaker had rather been looking forward to a meeting with the Vantha to explain to them that the city were more than willing to have them back now. Even if they were ghosts - as long as they were willing to forgive the murders that had so unfortunately had to happen the previous season. But if there were none there to greet him - and Severus wasn't planning on sneaking around their houses to find them - the meeting would have to wait for another day. Eyes still flickering between derelict buildings, the man turned out of the square where they had gathered.

Then a man materialised before him, the exit of the courtyard flickering through him. Eyes narrowed, head down, face scowled, the ghost took the image of the living man in. Refined. Sporting a beard of light violet flowers that reached just past his collar bone. Alive.

In a move of fury, the ghost burst towards the speaker, eyes flaming brightly as he thundered closer. For a moment, he slowed, appeared to be preparing to stop just before Severus, and the bearded man brought a hand up, ready to attempt a greeting to the furious ghost. Then they collided, both feeling the sharp impact as their souls touched each other. Caught off Severus struggled with the ghost only for a moment, then the Vantha seized control of his body, wrestling with the controls. It jolted up and down, shaking arms and legs out as he grew familiar to the size and shape of this one. Nothing like his own body, the one he would never feel again. But it was a speaker's, one of those accursed speakers he couldn't stand after their betrayal. What could he do with this one?

~~
7 and a Half Bell, Craven Manor

The girl burst through the heavy doors of the manor, breath deep and unsteady as she collapsed on her knees to the ground. Her body wasn't small by any means, but suddenly, in the entrance hall of the Craven manor, she felt like she was just a speck of dust.

It took a moment for anyone to find her there, panting for breath like a dog on the ground, and when Minerva did stumble across her, her brow was tight with irritation at the thing on the floor. "Girl, get off the ground and out of our house, unless you have business, in which case you will state it immediately."

Between her gasping, the older Craven managed to make out a few words, which only knotted her brow tighter. "Severus the Serpent? And you're certain you saw him get possessed? How would you even know what that looks like?"

"There was a Vantha... a Vantha ghost. It had to be... you need to go help..." she sputtered, slowly rising from where she knelt as she finally realised that she really was in the presence of a Craven. "Please, ma'am, you need to go now!"

The Craven shook, taking another deep, warning look at the girl, then finally nodding. "There's water in the kitchen, that's just through there. I'll tell the others and we'll have the ghost out before you've got your breath back."

~~
8th Bell, Abandoned Houses

The crowd had gathered quickly, intensely, and was only growing with size. At the forefront stood Madara, pulled out of her manor with the severity of the possession, and her sister just behind, staring blindly at the possessed speaker whose face was a picture of anger and rage at being entrapped like this by the spiritists. Sprinkled throughout the rest of the crowd were the rumours of the possession, and the rest of the Cravens, who struggled to disperse the group.

There was a light murmuring at the front, the sisters struggling to decide how to cover this. Madara chewed heavily on soulmist while Leto whispered to her about soul beads. The ghost inside Severus scowled deeply, unsure what move to make. The crowd began another rumour about the ghost - this time claiming he was Klarress, despite the fact that the girl was alive and well. The other Cravens pushed back, forcing another layer of the crowd to peel away, so they could get on with their work.

The tension in the air was palpable, and each and every person hung on the edge, ready to meet some sort of conclusion.
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Madeira Dusk on May 27th, 2017, 5:39 am

Exorcism of a Lifetime
85th of Spring, 517

Madeira was in the library of the manor when the call went out.

She shocked herself awake, crumpling the book under her hand and peeling her cheek off the wet ink of her red notebook. The Spiritist blinked hard to bring the cavernous room into focus, and noticed that dim sunlight was drifting lazily through the window on the back of a thousand motes of dust. So, it was morning already.

She carded her fingers through her lank blonde hair and cast around for what woke her. Distantly she heard a heavy door snap closed. Shadows flickered under the library's door as someone ran past. Dimly, she felt something prickle up her spine, though she couldn’t articulate what. It was the same kind of feeling that preceded a thunderstorm.

She wordlessly packed her things into her rucksack: the string of jade beads thrown over the chair beside her, the red notebook, the eight ebony arrows lined side-by-side on the oak table, and the jar of tacky black dough. If she remembered correctly, her bow should be by the front door with her cloak.

The pack was closed and thrown over her back, where it bit hard into her sleep-stiff shoulders. She readjusted the skewed collar of her white blouse and tried to rub the creases out of her black pants before stepping out into the hall. Just outside was the sort of calm chaos that only Avalad's could conjure. A kind of purposefulness and
nervous hum that did not match the calm demeanours and walking pace that the ghosts and several servants displayed as the hustled past. Madeira caught a young human woman by the arm.

"What's going on?"

The woman and her coworker stopped and blinked owlishly at her. Madeira lifted her hand and rubbed self consciously at the notes written backwards across her sleep creased cheek.

"Haven't you heard?" one of them spoke up. "The Serpent has been possessed!"

"In the ghost town", the second continued.

"By a Vantha."

"Leto and Madara have asked the family to go control the situation."

Now it was Madeira's turn to blink. If Madara was joining the exorcism, the head matriarch and most powerful Spiritist alive, that immediately made the situation a Big Deal. And to have the family join her... No doubt they were loathed to make any mistakes when a Speaker was involved. Especially one so popular as Severus the Serpent.

"Was a courier sent out to fetch me?" Madeira asked. She didn't live in the manor anymore, maybe they didn't know she had crashed in the library. And if the whole family was being summoned... The two women shared a glance, and Madeira decided that maybe she didn't want to know the answer. "Never mind. I'll meet them there."

A bell later Madeira found herself at the front of the crowd of curious bystanders, skinny arms held out as if she could physically stop the tide of people. In her belly a heavy dose of her soulmist recipe was roiling, almost ready. The head's of the family stood a
couple feet away, and she could hear them speak in low voices. And in the push of people she could hear her cousins asking people to move on, get out of the way and please go home. Madeira herself spoke in loud, clear tones, her professional smile plastered on her face as she tried to keep ahead of the rumours that burned through the street like wildfire.

"No, sir, it's not Klarress. Last i heard she was alive and well. Please step back. Ma'am. Ma'am! Stop. Everything is under control. Severus is fine. You'll get in the way. Please go home."

Every couple ticks Madeira would find herself glancing over her shoulder at the scene these people were craning their necks to see. She strained to hear when the heads were discussing, and her eyes always seemed to find Severus. The man, so modestly dressed and refined for a Speaker, had his face twisted into rage behind his flowery beard. His eyes rolled over the lot of them in much the same way they were sizing him up- judging, calculating. Distantly she wondered why there wen't more ghosts attracted to this spectacle. She supposed having this many Spiritist gathered made them nervous.

Madeira shifted her position slightly, tilting her ear away from the crowd being ushered away and towards the Craven heads. Secretly, though this was a Big Deal, the youngest Craven relished the chance to see Madara and Leto in action.
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Chameleon on May 31st, 2017, 9:53 pm

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Exorcism of a Lifetime


Einar moved through the crowd carefully, picking and choosing his targets more carefully than the other Cravens. After having dealt with a particularly difficult child who, with his eager fascination, had only pushed further and further forward, crawling between the crowds to get a glance, it would seem like his patience would run out. Despite that, his face remained cool and collected, watching the boy leave for the last time.

When he was certain that the child wasn't going to return, the Craven turned, catching a glimpse of the other one, skinny and pale, eyes falling out of their sockets. With a sigh, he moved over, noticing the direction of her attention wasn't on the crowd, but on something that was being covered, and didn't need her meddling in it. Compared to the rest of the Cravens, the girl seemed so young, so unskilled, and for something as important as this, they didn't need her messing things up.

With careful, steady strides, he found himself next to Madeira, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to announce his presence. "You too," he began, words ringing out as clearly as Laviku's waters could shine, "If you aren't going to help send these people away, you're going to have to leave with them too." He could understand that she wanted to see the two greats in action. He did, too, because what was better than watching true masters demonstrate their skill. But rules were rules, even if they weren't actually rules.

His eyes flickered to the ghost in Severus, still panicking at what to do. There was no way out, not in the body considering the crowd around, and he didn't want to give it up, no way, not a chance. Instead, his eyes blazed as he debated charging or swapping to take a Craven, or something. All the same while, the two women argued furiously between each other, unable to reach a solid plan.

"Ghost beads!" Leto hissed again, the words just audible to Madeira and to Einar, "If we trap him, he's helpless in there!"

"But what then?" came the reply, "Severus is trapped, I don't see that working in the slightest! What if we just talk..."

It was chaos. Complete and utter chaos. Everyone knew it, yet no one could do anything about it because that would mean making a move; and who had any moves to make? Nothing seemed like it would happen, and the whole situation froze.

"Should we start on some soul darts? Beads?" came Einar's voice, speaking out in a hope to help. And if Madeira pushed herself into helping too, that would just be a minor inconvenience. In fact, he could get her doing something now. "Make yourself useful and get some soulmist going. We don't know how much we'll need, so I'm sure Madara and Leto will take any."
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Madeira Dusk on June 1st, 2017, 5:59 am

Exorcism of a Lifetime
85th of Spring, 517

Madeira stiffened under the gentle touch of her cousin, and her blood ran cold to hear him dismiss her from the scene. But her professionalism prevailed, and her smile stayed pressed into her cheeks for the benefit of their audience.

She liked Einar. She didn't despise him like his brother, at the very least. He was the cool-headed, study focused negotiator, as befit the next scrivener. He was one of the favourites, one of the chosen few. And she knew he spoke to her with strategy instead of malice. Yet his words roared in her ears: make yourself useful. The only thing she was good for here was as a soulmist factory.

Damn him.

Without thinking she shrugged herself out of his gentle hand and stepped into the oppressive atmosphere of the two sisters.

"You don't need souldarts or soulbeads, you need bait!"

She spoke to the master Spiritist's with clenched fists and ice chips for eyes, but she couldn't help how her posture cowed in their presence.

"I can do it. I've done it before- baiting a ghost to possess my body. First when there was that murderer in the Crooked Playhouse. Then again last season with the crazed Eypharian on the beach." She declined to mention that both those situations nearly got her killed. It was thanks to Dexius the mercenary Symenestra, and Maro the jackal Eyion, that she made it out ok. The tactic was dangerous bordering on reckless.

"We could get Severus out of the line of fire, and I could at least put up a fight, perhaps dig through his memories, while you find a solution. I- maybe I can't stop it. But I could at least slow it down. I could be useful."

She bit her tongue to keep from babbling, but her eyes said it all. Look at what I'm willing to risk for this family.
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Chameleon on June 11th, 2017, 6:18 pm

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Einar began to wish he had never picked Madeira to babysit, and cursed those choices that had happened moments before she stepped forward, offering her own suggestion. Patience was the best way to deal with the girl, who wanted so hard to be heard by the Cravens, by the rest of her family, and prove herself a spiritist worthy of their attention. And so he calmed himself, let her provide her thoughts, her insights, knowing even a novice could bring something new more experienced practitioners might have overlooked. She had to be grateful it was him who found her first, not his brother.

It was Madara's reaction that came first to the words. Her chest swelled amidst her work, and she let herself finish it without turning to face the interruption. "Useful?" the word trickled out like a line of poison, ready to sting an unprepared victim, "You think yourself useful? We have thousands of children like you, ready to try be useful - but we have thousands who can do it better, too."

The woman still hadn't turned, and was chewing harder, deep in thought. Leto, on the other hand, suddenly was there, staring straight at her with the milky blind eyes. Even though her sight was gone, her gaze held perfectly precise, following each and every movement and staring through the girl to her soul.

"Sister, dearest, is it that bad an idea? Severus for her... is that really that hard a choice? Let's humour her a little," a deep smile curled on her lips, her attention snapping in the ghost's direction just a second to check he was still there. The tone in her voice was light, playful, as if the gentle words were all meaningful, caring for the younger Craven. "Besides," she began again, turning back to Madeira with an even deeper smile, "If all goes wrong, we don't have to worry about her meddling with complicated situations again." With a slight chuckle, she winked at the pale girl, "We know how close things get when you get possessed."

With a disgruntled cough, Madara gave a sharp nod, the hair bouncing on her head. Her eyes flickered to the ghost, who stood still confused, still waiting. "Try your best, then. But it's up to you to get yourself possessed. I think if he just wanted a body, he'd have fled by now."

And the playing field was open then, to Madeira to step forward and do what she could. The ghost, it seemed, was in no mood to suddenly change bodies - especially when the one he held was such a good one - a speaker, that had always been his goal. But perhaps if she went about it in the right way, even he would choose the lanky, pale girl with circles around her eyes.

"If you need any help, please, ask," Einar trembled beside her, letting his concern for her well-being, her life even, show through his words, "But you don't have to do it. If you don't feel capable - don't."

But really, what was the worst that could happen?
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Madeira Dusk on June 15th, 2017, 5:59 am

Exorcism of a Lifetime
85th of Spring, 517

It wasn't often that Madeira felt Madara and Leto's disdain so directly. They had more important things to do with their time, after all. But she had it now. She listened carefully and respectfully, and sliced herself raw as she peeled back the layers of sarcasm and contempt in their words.

They were going to let her do this, but only because she was unimportant. If Einar stepped forward with such a proposition she imagined they would have shut him down. Same with Gideon, or possibly even Paris. They couldn't risk the future of the house on this little stunt. But a ward...

This was something only she could do, out of all the greats there. But only because she was worth the least. It was a sour sort of pride.

Einar spoke up then, and she could feel something genuine and scared in his words. Please ask for help, he said. She didn't have to do this.

But she did.

"I'll call if I need you." she squeezed his arm and tried not to let her anxiety show in her tight smile.

She turned away from them then, and from deep in her belly she drew her finished soulmist to her mouth. With a wet retching sound the etherial substance pooled languidly in her hand. A portion of it she pushed back down her throat, the rest she smeared across her face. She could feel it permeate into her skin with a gentle coolness. Now, at least, she could give the Lie. That ability could be useful later.

Next she dropped her pack, and the loose rattle of her beads and jars and the lightness in her shoulders made her feel naked. The last thing to go was her ebony crossbow and bolts. She wasn't going to give the ghost a weapon to hurt her or others with, and she wasn't about to shoot a Speaker full of holes.

Well, that was all she could do. She nodded at the heads, smiled for Einar, rolled up her sleeves and walked across the no-mans-land to approach the possessed Serpent. As she did she held up her empty hands, her head bowed and unthreatening. She stopped a few meters back and opened her mouth.

"My name is Madeira Craven. I just-" she licked her lips, willing moisture into her suddenly dry mouth. "I just want to talk."

Now, how did she convince the Vantha to let go of one of the men who orchestrated their genocide? She rolled her shoulders and started to speak. "If you wanted to kill Severus you had your chance. So, what do you want? Revenge? Justice? That speaker is pretty useless now. He cant do anything for you when you're wearing him. His power and influence is useless while you're at the helm."

Madeira's hands rubbed up her forearms nervously as if she were cold, when in fact she was burning. Every nerve was stretched thin and tight as she watched for any and every change in Severus.

"You know about the Cravens, right? It's an old family. Powerful. Some say their power rivals that of the Speakers. Others say Ionu favours our heads. They're all back there, the Cravens, see? And every single one of them is capable of ripping you apart. All except me." She spread her arms, her lips set in a bitter smile. "Well, you want to bend the most powerful people in Alvadas to your will? Want to be heard? Want to tighten the leash on the only people capable of hurting you? What better way than to go to them wearing your leverage. I’m family. Blood. They won't hurt me."

Ah, such lies. They might hesitate, they might even feel guilty about it afterwards, but she doubted that would stop them. She wet her lips again. A bead of sweat travelled between her breasts.

"They won't hurt me, but I can't hurt you either. I'm just a ward. I’m weak." Was that a lie? Gods, she hoped so. "So let go of the Speaker. He's useless. Have me instead and lets get you what you want."
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Chameleon on July 9th, 2017, 9:55 pm

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The ghost inside the speaker looked up, towards the girl approaching him, so small and weak and feeble looking it took a moment for him to realise that she had to be Craven, because who else would approach him. Her head was bowed, her arms up, as if she was giving herself up like a lamb for the slaughter. She just wanted to talk this... this Craven, he didn't care for her name. She was useless, one of the many useless people in this city who had done nothing. The Cravens, who dealt with life and death, but had done nothing to prevent the wrong one from happening. They were useless, all of them were. And now, they were even more useless.

Yet he listened, because in truth, the ghost was lost, confused and terrified. All he knew was revenge - all he knew was that Alvadas and everyone and everything in it had wronged him, and that they had to pay for their actions.

Except how was a thought lost to him, until this Craven spoke.

"It's a trick!" came the cry, after a long silence following her words. He hadn't expected it to come, and the voice was too unfamiliar to him, not one he knew but one he hated. "It's a trick, it's a trick, it's a trick!" he screamed to himself, forcing himself to hold back from ripping through and into her body.

She was a Craven. "You don't want to help me! Why would you want to help me? If you wanted to help me, you would have. I wouldn't be dead. I shouldn't be dead!" His voice boomed through the street as anger inflamed through his eyes. All confusion was replaced, as the ghost kept to what chained him here. No one had helped him in the time of need, and now it was too late, even if she meant well, even if she was telling the truth.

Cravens all lied, anyway.

With another snarl, so unnatural from the flower beard over the mouth, he lunged forward, trying to test Madeira, to see how weak she was, how scared she was. She wouldn't help him, but that didn't mean she couldn't.

"So... Madeira," he started, deciding to bide the time before he acted, "How will you help, help me, unlike you did when you let me and all my people get slaughtered like cattle at the whims of your god?" Each word was timed, furious, spat at her without another thought. But there were thoughts, too. Thoughts as he paced forward, slowly, planning his attack.

He wasn't patient enough. All of a sudden, he leapt, hand grasping out at her clothing. With a swift motion, he gripped the cloth tightly, and yanked her towards him, attempting to grab the smaller girl around the neck in a tight lock. If he had her, as a hostage, as bargaining material... then he could use her. At the very least, it was worth a try.
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Madeira Dusk on August 3rd, 2017, 5:30 am

Exorcism of a Lifetime
85th of Spring, 517

"It's a trick!" the Speaker suddenly roared after the longest silence of Madeira's life. She cringed away from the words like a physical blow, and weathered his mantra. His face was twisted in anger and disgust until he hardly looked human anymore.

The human in her knew he wasn't wrong. She burned with a helpless kind of shame to know how she had meekly pretended that everything was ok while a whole race was slaughtered in her city. But the Spiritist in her, the cold professional, untangled his words and looked deeper into what he was saying, and found the core of what kept him in this life.

He started to prowl closer, and Madeira made a conscious effort not to step back. He was just starting to talk to her, she couldn't lose this progress now. He let lose an inhuman snarl, his eyes green slits of rage, he asked her how she planned to help him now, when she wouldn’t then.

"I'll help you die." she said, her hands fisted at her sides and her voice unflinchingly honest. "You need to pass on. You need peace. That's all there is left. There is no one left to fight. It's over! Morwen is back on her throne and Ionu is sated."

Madeira saw the spark in the Serpents eye, that sudden, altering decision, just before he lunged. With snap judgment he exploded at her, and with his white knuckles bunched in her blouse he pulled her forcibly to him. The shriek of fear stuck in her throat as he wrapped his forearm around her neck. She could smell the crushed purple flowers in his beard and see every broken vein in his crazed eyes.

There was a moment between two beats of her terrified heart that seemed to stretch forever. Somewhere in her mind she remembered once explaining to Dexius the Symenestra how Spiritism was ninety percent bullshyke; that a Spiritist dealt in lies and suicide. You don't hold a ghost down to die, you bargain and lie and let it make it's own decision. If she was going to have this ghost die for good she needed to lead him there by the hand.

Madeira burned through her memories, ripping through every face she knew and every name ever mentioned to her before she found what she needed. It came as an unnamed Vantha Madeira's age with crimson eyes. She was the one from the group of terrified Vantha that spoke to her and Phira in the tiny version of Morwen’s castle, where the two prayed to Dira for their peaceful death. The girl was surely dead, but it didn't matter. She brought her face to the forefront of her mind, and let the girls hard, stressed voice coil in her throat. The soulmist on her face took the image from her mind, and Madeira hid behind it like a coward.

"Stop! Stop, you're hurting me!" She struggled in his hold, but dared not use force to break herself out. "This isn't right. This isn’t right. This won't bring us back!" She brought the panic that still pounded hot in her chest and flushed it up to her eyes. And with that hot, prickling sensation she began to cry while wearing the face of the Vantha girl. "You need to come home. We want you home. Please."
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Chameleon on August 3rd, 2017, 8:48 pm

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"Help me die!" The ghost gave a laugh. Then his eyes tightened again. "You've already done that. You stood by. You let me die. I should kill you right now. Right now. In my arms - I could snap your neck! Smash your head against the floor! Anything, anything, any-"

Then the ghost looked down, at the girl crying in panic in his arms. This was... This wasn't the Craven. It was a girl, her age maybe, still a girl, but no Craven. She was crying, actually crying, complaining about how he was hurting her.

The arm around her neck loosened, but the other hand stayed gripped on her shirt, refusing to let her go so quickly. Eyes, confused wide eyes, ran across her, trying to figure out what had happened. She was different, too different.

Most importantly, she was Vantha. Red-eyed Vantha. He was hurting a Vantha, one of his own! His arm moved away from her neck completely. His hand loosened and slipped down to hold hers. She needed him, to fight for them, for all the Vantha. They had suffered enough. For her, he had to fight them. Make them suffer for everything they had done to the children of Morwen.

"You!" he yelled at everyone watching, "You killed me! Killed all the Vantha! You're responsible for our suffering! You deserve - you deserve-" Then he collapsed, almost ready with tears to match the ones of the Vantha girl. The whole body trembled, flooding with human emotion again and he tried to pull her closer, take a deeper look into those eyes. Vantha eyes. Ones that had been stripped of him just like his physical body had been.

What had she been saying? About being brought back. About going home. What did she mean? He couldn't though. He was stranded here as a ghost. And home... Avanthal...

"How?" The desperation rung through in his voice. Going home... as much as he wanted to see all the people who had attacked the Vantha suffering, going home was what he needed even more. But the idea seemed pretty much impossible. "How do I go home?"

His voice trembled again, and he started to wonder, who this Vantha was. Did he know her? He had to. They were Vantha. They were kin. He must have forgotten. That had happened, clearly. She was going to help him home though, so it didn't matter. "These people - they destroyed our home. A glacier - did you see it? They destroyed it! They destroyed everyone - me! They destroyed me!" His voice caught, and he choked out a few more words. "How can I go home like this?"

He gestured to the body he held. It was the body of a Vantha murderer. The body of someone who had the power to help, but had done nothing. The ghost everything he stood for. Everything about everything. If he wanted, he could destroy him. So why wasn't he?
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Exorcism of a Lifetime

Postby Madeira Dusk on August 11th, 2017, 1:51 am

Exorcism of a Lifetime
85th of Spring, 517

The Lie worked. The Serpent dropped to his knees, still holding to her hand like a child. His blue eyes brimmed with tears and his face twisted with a lost, hopeless kind of pain.

He was angry, so angry. But he was angry for her. When he shouted to the people behind her he did so with a formless accusation. They killed the Vantha. What did they deserve? What did the Serpent deserve? Even he didn't know.

She knelt in front of him, letting him hold her hand just as hard as she held onto the face of that nameless Vantha girl. He needed to hear this from her. Madeira worked moisture into her mouth as she looked into Severus's pale eyes. If she looked deep enough she imagined she could see the spark of something alien inside. Was that the ghost? Or what that the Speaker, watching soundlessly, trapped in his own body?

"This isn't home. Avanthal isn't home. It's Morwen. She is our home"

Alvadas was Madeira's home, but more than that, it wasn't the stones of the city that she loved but it's deity that brought the stones to life. That wound illusions in the air to the wonder and worship of it's citizens. She tried to use this to turn him around, to get the ghost to look forward and not back.

"And you can still find her, find all of us, in the Ukalas and rebirth." to the ghost her red eyes seemed to glitter. Even Madeira’s real pale, cloudy eyes widened perceptively as they always did when she spoke about death. There was reverence in her voice as she spoke about the cycle, and the gods that watched over the process.

"You are not destroyed. You are still here and you will be here forever. Come back to us as an Icewatch bear, or a Vantha child, have Morwen bless you with ice reaving all over again, and be home. This is not your fight. Lhex will judge everyone here who had a hand in this… This genocide."

She wondered what Lhex would say about her and her passiveness. Would he judge her as a murderer by neglect? She shut that thought down before it could show on the Vantha girls face. Instead she held his hand in both of hers, her eyes pleading and earnest behind the Lie and her cheeks washed in tears. She could feel the stares of her family, of the entire crowed, boring into her back. She was waiting on a hair trigger, waiting for him to detonate under the weight of her words.

"Come home."
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Madeira Dusk
long may she reign
 
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