Solo Poison ii.

[ KRI ] Part II of a series set in the Kelvic Research Institute.

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Poison ii.

Postby Maore on February 14th, 2020, 5:13 am

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10th of Winter
By the seventh day after first meeting Ennoia, Ciraaci was pretty confident that she could convince herself that the visit was a one-off interaction declared necessary by the cruelest of gods that be. In the time between then and now she'd kept to a corner and faced the door, hardly allowing herself to sink into the blessed numbing of a meditative trance. Every noise outside of her door had set her nerves on fire. She'd been ready to fight and scream if he came back with declarations of trustworthiness and safety. She'd nearly attacked a guard simply bringing her soggy rations of bread and overcooked rice and had faced a two-day punishment of starvation for the merest implication of impending assault.

How had she convinced herself that the meeting was a one time thing and the man's company wouldn't be forced on her further? The answer was pure and simple: denial. Ciraaci could do a lot with denial. For a very long time she'd managed to live her life under her faithfully capricious goddess with absolute conviction that neither of them loved one another and would have nothing to do with each other anymore. That was a lie, of course; Ciraaci hadn't realized how much she'd loved the sun until it was taken from her, but the fact remained that denial was still one of her strongest tools.

Denial didn't stop her from opening her eyes on the seventh day after his last visit and seeing Ennoia already in his chair in front of the door. It didn't stop the undignified hiss of a Myrian curse word, didn't stop her from sitting up from her pile of sodden hay, and did absolutely nothing to stop her from throwing herself into the nearest corner.

"You're safe with me," Ennoia said once she'd found her safe place and had managed to calm the panicked heaving of her chest. "I promise that you will not be assaulted while we are working together, Ciraaci. You may trust me at my word."

His eyes gleamed in the dim light of a candle placed at his left foot, a sharp green that seemed unwholesome like a rotten limb in the dark of the cell. She didn't trust him. She didn't feel safe with him. Their privacy was a violation of her right to choose who she wanted to socialize with and he would have been the furthest from the first person she'd rather talk to. That Ethaefal girl, from seasons past? She'd be leagues on top of this man on the list of acceptable people, and Ciraaci had not been very fond of her at all.

The silence hung between them like it did the first day they'd spoken, a silence pregnant with meaning and anticipation. Ciraaci was uncomfortable under the scrutiny being given her and she began fidgeting, pulling at loose knots in her hair and trying to look at anything that wasn't Ennoia. He allowed it for a moment and she wished, desperately wished, she could somehow hear his thoughts and know why he was here and what he wanted.

Finally, when Ciraaci could no longer handle the silence, she broke it first.

"What do you want?" She asked the wall, though the question was clearly intended for Ennoia. The ethaefal could almost feel the smug pride radiating off of him that he'd managed to get her to break silence first and her jaw clenched with the immediate desire to suck the words back in and leave them stewing in the silence all over again.

"To talk, mostly," Ennoia responded after another moment. He shifted and the candlelight moved to better illuminate her spot against the wall. Of course she flinched and looked at him, just to make sure he wasn't about to breach her space like he had on the first day, and he gave her what should have passed for a guilty smile but what had come out as a sneer. "I just want to see you better, understand?"

She blinked and looked away again which was all the permission he needed to scoot a little closer and lower the candle back down by his foot. It was still out of her reach, she noted, but if he got just a little closer she might be able to take it and use it. Somehow.

Silence again.

Ciraaci almost wanted to scream.

"Do you know where you are, Ciraaci? Or even why you're here? Who we are?"

She really didn't have an answer to the first and last question, but as she prepared to answer the second, her lip curled in a subconscious act of spite.

"You want to breed animals out of me," she spat. "Kelvic pups."

Ennoia nodded. "That's part of it, I suppose. What we really wanted were you things."

A reminder that Pavi was clearly not his first language despite his otherwise fairly passable diction.

"What things?" Ciraaci spat.

She was given the most rich, indulgent smile from the human man. It raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck, would have had her hackles up and her teeth bared in a snarl. Instead she merely recoiled from the sight.

"All of you," he answered, making a gesture at her sun-spun god-given form. "We wanted all of it."

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Poison ii.

Postby Maore on February 16th, 2020, 7:48 am

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It took Ciraaci a few embarrassingly long moments to realize the gravity of what Ennoia was saying, and even then she was absolutely sure that she was missing some crucial part of it, a piece of information kept out of her reach so she could be left to flounder alone.

"You can't have this," she said after a very long few chimes of silence filled only by his patient presence and her startled fidgeting. Of course she gestured to herself, a helpless thing to indicate her being like he had. "Nobody can have this." And she didn't want it anymore, hadn't wanted it since her wives had died and her daughters had left and she'd entered into the service of Dira. She would have sold this to the first Drykas to ask and then went on her merry way to kill abominations for Death's sake. She'd have lived and died many lives by now with no pain about former lives to hold her back.

Ennoia was watching her expression with a mask of patient interest. It was like he was playing a game, trying to prove something or see something or learn something that he could carry out to his masters like a child carries a dirt worm home to mom. Ciraaci tried very hard not to scowl but he laughed and she knew he'd caught her.

"That's a lot of anger you're holding onto, Ciraaci," he said. He said it so sweetly that she subconsciously leaned forward and averted her gaze. "You are a product of Syna, yes? The pretty yellow sun in our days? Seems a shame she let you go."

The first little needle sank deep into the locked off ice of her heart, a lance of painful fire that struck a nerve.

"You must have done something terrible to be tossed away into the sea. Which one did you come into Mizahar through? A few have the good fortune to emerge in the lake, but not as many are as lucky."

Ciraaci's jaw clenched, locking tight. She didn't want to answer. Honestly, she would do anything to not answer this question.

"Near Falyndar," she answered after a moment. If her tone wasn't enough to convey her irritation then her hands surely did, fluttering in spiteful gestures that Ennoia, unfortunately, would likely not understand. Shame. How could Ciraaci properly curse him if half of the work would go over his head? "It was not a bad place."

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Poison ii.

Postby Maore on February 16th, 2020, 8:04 am

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Despite not taking any notes, Ciraaci had the sneaking suspicion that Ennoia was nonetheless taking note of the things she was telling him. She delighted in being vague about the location exactly; if he knew of Falyndar through hearsay he may think she took residence with the Myrians or somehow found her way across the Suvan to the desert or Riverfall, one of which being a journey that she had indeed undertaken once she'd acclimated to her situation and learned what she needed to learn on Dira's island.

They were silent again.

"When your God-Forsaken come to in your lake, do you also trap them in a cage and mate them with your animals?"

The seething question spat itself out of her mouth without a single hint at warning. No, it rose up her throat and sat hot behind her teeth until the next breath exhaled it into the already tense air the two of them shared.

Ennoia's reaction was to raise his eyebrows and then smile again, allowing her to realize that his often present grin had died for a moment. Why? She had to swallow the question back because he was leaning forward suddenly, threatening as if to invade her space, and she leaned back -- or tried to. There was no more space in this corner and despite all attempts otherwise, Ciraaci would never just slide through the solid wall.

"We often welcome them like family, if we can save them. It's a very deep lake, you see, and many of your unfortunate breed are unable to keep swimming long enough for a boat to reach you." Ennoia whispered it like it was a secret just for the two of them and not any of the listening ears that must, at this very moment, be at the door trying to pick up on anything being said. "Your gods abandoned you. Ours takes your kind in. You were not as fortunate as you think you were."

And then he leaned back, flattened his hands over his dress shirt, and fixed Ciraaci with a much more serious expression, a calculating thing that made her again look away in discomfort.

"Unfortunately, we can't breed your traits out of you, and that is truly a shame, Ciraaci. Truly. You serve us no other purpose, so we are preparing to release you."

Oh, to say hope flew high in her chest would have been an understatement. Her heart pounded, elated. Her eyes widened, nearly tearing up. She wanted to smile, but she didn't. It was Ennoia who smiled, who indulged in knowing a secret that she wouldn't be given the pleasure of listening to. It was Ennoia who winked and rose to his feet.

"I will be returning in a few days, Ciraaci. Please rest. You can trust me."

She wanted to doubt that. She did doubt that.

She watched him carry his chair out the way he came in and heard the door lock.

The hall was silent. The room was silent. All things were dark.

Ciraaci refused to cry and she refused to smile. She faced the wall and tried not to obsess over the good things he'd said, tried to take it with a grain of salt, tried not to get trapped by hope. She tried very, very hard.

She went to sleep not long after he had left with a feeling of some important task being unfulfilled.

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