Vessel

[Taelian Edevane]

50th of Frost, Year 4622

None of them had much time at all to rest. Even in the face of their death, time was a relentless force, and everything they had seen had been part of a... set-piece, with elements not yet seen or declared. Every person chosen by the Keepers to find Niven was given roughly an hour to recover from their ordeal, an hour of silence and contemplation, an hour to reflect on their death and its meaning and to try to piece together the semblances left of their mind, which surely struggled to grasp the difference between their lived reality and the future one wherein they had passed.

But then, that hour was over, and a stale chill hit the air of the otherwise temperate, warm Eternity Priory; the light outside of their room's windows became obscured by fog, as the moonlight became particularly dour. What this was, unbeknownst to them now, was an affliction of time: Moop, Jared, Arkash, Taelian and Ford were isolated within chronological space, selected to specifically witness whatever it was this being of higher power wanted of them. Perhaps they were awake, perhaps they were long asleep, but each of them would hear the little jingle of a bell, and...

"Du du... du du..." a strange, inhuman voice would whisper. They would see it, perhaps in the corner of their eye, perhaps peering out the window... all of them would see it looming in their doorway, the creature unlocking and slowly pulling open each dormitory as it passed. It would set its hand inside, and they would see it then: a little webbed, fish-like hand, with a single big golden eye staring at them from the darkness. The creature would stare and move on, shuffling to the next dormitory to do the same thing. Jared would be the first awoken by this fish-like being, followed by Moop and Arkash, and then Taelian and Ford. Once it had paid them all a visit, it went from room-to-room fully opening each of their doorways, before disappearing out into the courtyard of the Priory.

"Du du... du du..." it would let out again, a jingling bell penetrating the silence of the night. In the foggy black, it could no longer be seen as it lurked outside, but the creature was very clearly calling on them... inviting them.

Taelian rose from his bed with a reflexive fear, his chest tensing as his eyes glared fearfully towards the open door, which seemed to be inviting a looming darkness inside. He bit his lower lip.

"The fuck," he cursed, shaking his head as he tried to make sense of the creepy, lurking thing he'd just witnessed. "Ford, did you see that? There was some fucking fish that just came and opened our door. It looked like a Vesj'vakar." The man sighed, looking beside him at his nightstand to quickly grab a flask of water, downing it and clearing his throat. "It's outside now. What... does it want?"

[Ford Edevane]

The hour granted to them had been mostly taken to reorient himself. The pain from having lived through the soul-destroying breaking of the Arlaed bond was still fresh in his mind and heart. It was an ache, more than active pain, but between imagery and emotion, it was fresh enough. Ford and Taelian had otherwise been quiet, as much as many of the others would have been. Just as it seemed, things were starting to ease, to allow themselves a chance to realize they were alive finally, and things could attempt to begin moving forward. Something else was coming their way. Ford would not have noticed if he had not caught the dimming of the light from outside. It was odd for the light to have disappeared or dimmed in such a fashion. Just as the blonde was about to make a comment, he turned his head when there was a sound of a little bell.

For the briefest of moments, the sound of the bell sent a chill up the Griscian’s spine. Little or not, Ford had his fill of bells for the time being. It wasn’t until the door opened and a fish with a singular, golden eye was… Was it talking to them? Ford had not been to sleep. He was afraid to close his eyes again for those moments of reparation. As Taelian rose from the bed, so did Ford with a raised blonde brow. Ford had seen many awkward and weird things. But one thing he did not know or ever experience was a fishy beast, looking in their direction repeating Du du… du du…

He would be lying if he said anything that was out of the ordinary and didn’t strike the slightest bit of worry or caution in his mind. It was obvious. It didn’t mean harm; if it did, it did not mean them to harm where they were. Leaving the doors open and heading off after its Du du’ing, Ford’s blues slid over to Taelian. Ford hated to say it, but he knew what they had to do.

The blonde had dark, sunken circles around his eyes, and the sclera of his eyes was bloodshot. With his flesh having a pallid complexion, he took a deep breath and let it out. It wasn’t red lightning, and there was no disintegrating cockroach things crawling about. So rather than cower in fear, a promise was a promise. A vow was a vow. Holding out his left hand for Taelian to take, there was no other way they were leaving that room. It was Ford’s only required stipulation. Taelian’s marked hand held his own.

“C’mon Tae… If it wanted to eat us, it would have. Fresh air might be good….” He glanced over to the foggy darkness outside, quickly grimacing. So much for fresh air. Ford felt like he had his body pulled inside out and then melded back together again, but it was slowly and steadily getting better. “Only one way to find out… It only has one eye and knows one syllable. You would demolish it in a single heartbeat if needed. Let’s take a look, Mister Edevane.”

[Gloomcrest]

Whether it was day or night, awaken or slumber; It was sure to say that the Alistian thief was not doing so well in the hour after the brief encounter in a strange land. What was once a comfort lulling himself back into a slumber and dream as vast as the known universe itself? It was now a tapestry of darkness, various bits of fragments of memories. From the moment Jared took his first breath into the world to now, where he was struggling to breathe, profusely sweating in his sheets, his body merely bruising with a few light bumps and worse, the constant drain on his stamina which the thief usually had a small amount of pride for.

The mere thought of death looming so closely, whispering into the Alistian rogue’s ears; His thoughts betraying him as it would merely mock or suggest the sweet release of plunging into eternal darkness, the very essence of who he was as a person; a Nightfallen.

“That night Jared went to sleep, the fire burned down low; He caught a chill that spread, his skin was cold as snow… At dawn, they found him; Vacant, the light has gone out; no one there to weep and plead, but there could be no doubt.”

Cracking his eyes wide open at the faint sounds of bells jiggling across from the room where Jared, Arkash, and Moop have slept. Soft yet indescribable voice merely repeating itself over and over again was rather unsettling. Drifting his gaze over to where the sound was coming from, the thief attempted to get up from his bed only to wince in pain as his body gave to rest.

Whatever the thief was seeing, it was something beyond his understanding as a whole; A sort of humanoid figure with aquatic features, the sizeable singular eye that illuminated the shadows in its wake, merely opening the door with an unsettling visage. Jared couldn’t help but hold his breath in silence, but the motion was apparent. It would seem like whatever this creature was, it was attempting to call him, and from what he could hear from the bouts of silence, its footsteps echoed in beat with its aloof nature.

The thief takes a moment to move his feet onto the ground, taking a moment to clutch his chest with his left hand while using his right hand to Devise what available photons to create a simple walking stick to assist Jared in moving without causing too much strain. While the thief cannot fight an eldritch creature of sorts, his inquisitive nature trumpets his insecurities. Taking one step at a time, the thief starts to follow this entity as best he can, hushing his actions with the occasional gasping for air and clutching tightly around his sides, and the handle of his walking stick made of the night would produce a light tap against the cold, stone floors.

Whether the thief sees Arkash or Moop come out of their rooms was out of the question as Jared seemed entranced to figure out what this thing is, and his curiosity might spell his doom. Why are these events about the end solely focused on them, or was there another meaning behind it all… The only way to find out is to chase the fish and enter the rabbit hole it could lead to.

[Arkash]

Arkash didn't return to the room after everything they'd experienced. He didn't return to sleep.

In the hall, bundled at the foot of the wall, he stayed with his claws clasping his head and his knees to his chest. Head occupied, teary yellow eyes staring vacantly at the stonework below that window, the young Rath contemplated.

How could he win that fight? What could he do better? The answer, as he found it, always came down to the Umbralplasm clogging his soul.

Ascension. The pureblood could save him - Then he wouldn't have a brain to destroy.

Try as he might to contact the mark at the back of his head, to feel so much as a wisp of ether, was in vain.

'Du du... Du du...' Arkash furrowed his brow and removed his hands to straighten up his head. Sensitive ears they were, Arkash caught the jingle of a bell down the hall. A slight turn of his head set his teary eye on the dark of the hall, and there he stared as the voice repeated 'Du du... Du du...'

Arkash wasn't left wondering for long, as the creature came into view, testing each and every door on its way. His eyes widened, and his forked tongue flicked from his maw before he shut his eyes again and made an effort to clean himself up. The tearful streaks that caked his cheeks were dried away, and his feet pressed into the ground to lift his body from the floor.

Fully standing there in the hall, the Rath smiled at the fish and extended a hand as it neared. "Hey, I didn't fink there was any uva Raf's 'ere in the monistary," he spoke softly, pleased to see another of his kind - or so he thought in the moment.

But the creature didn't reply, and looked on him with its golden eye and spoke "Du du... Du du..." Before it continued on down the hall.

Arkash furrowed his brow, then shook his head before he pursued the fish. "Hey!" He called, rather loudly. "Wait! I havn' seen anova' Raf in monfs!" The creature peeked into Ford's and Taelian;s room, at which point, he quieted down, widened his eyes, and stilled his breath. After it was done repeating its ritual, it was on its way again.

The Rathor didn't slow down, and kept hot on its heels until the open courtyard, where the black fog blanketed the area. It was a fog so dense that not even Arkash could see clearly, but his sense of smell was strong, and he knew the creature to lurk within.

A chill ran up his spine. His venom glands began to work and he slurped as he began to drool. Black spines extended from his neck and the backs of his hands as his scales turned pale, his eyes sun, and his teeth and claws caught aflame. "Stop fuckin' around," Arkash warned the fog. "You jump out on me an' I'll knock 'ew on 'ew fuckin' tail, I swear..." he warned, voice warped with the massive obstruction of his jagged teeth.

Finally, he walked into the fog.

Image source.

[Moop]

¤

Waking from the dream there was little time to understand. She had watched everyone die, one by one, and was the last to go. Questions arising in her mind and each unanswered, even the one spoken directly to the creature of ash was ignored. It was one experience after the other at this priory and she was not safe or strong enough to protect herself. After the dream she was drenched in sweat and had gone again to the wash room to take care of herself, leaving the other two men in their room or to do as they pleased. She was hidden in there for about an hour, contemplating in circles what she had seen in the dream... when she heard it. A jingle of a bell signaled her to another's presence and she was compelled to follow. The one beckoning seemed to be some sort of large, walking fish. The way it spoke reminded her of a young child or someone who was slow, it didn't come off as a threatening individual. Still, she didn't underestimate it, finding its very presence troubling, the dream still fresh on her mind.

The strange creature left the door open, letting all her assembled steam and heat escape the room. Forcing herself to rise from her bath she assembled her clothing, dried her body, and left through the open door to the courtyard. It was cold and even for her short time spent in the priory she knew this was unusual. Wandering slowly into the courtyard she looked around for the others in the fog. Worried, she cleared her throat and called out,
"Hello? It's Moop, I'm over here?"

[Taelian Edevane]

"I'm sorry, my dear."

"Why?"

"I killed you."

"...Oh. For how long?"

"Five years," the man breathily sighed. "I shouldn't have done that... not to you. It was for your own good, I told myself: I didn't want you to suffer here, forever, with me. But then I realized... what you need is to be able to break free, to go wherever you want to go. I grabbed you from a pond on Ardat-Yur before that world died, and ever since then I've always made you accompany me, and I... became so afraid of losing you that I think I've deprived you of... everything."

"Bu-but... Eternity, you're dying now, and... I need to take care of you. You shouldn't have killed me, but... you also shouldn't let me go. Y-you... need me."

"I am dying," he quietly laughed. "Guess that proves I'm not a God, hn? They call us Gods, but we're not that. We're very, very fortunate women and men who escaped and survived an unbelievably terrible thing, and like insecure women and men we fight and strive to regain what we've lost. I've lost my world, my husband, and my strength... and for a long time I lost you, but I want to prove myself wise by not fighting to keep you around. By not fighting to preserve my life. You, little Rot, are the thing I've done everything for: preserving a little glimpse of the beauty of my old home. My old, wonderful galaxy. It's long since been consumed... but not you. I won't let it consume you."

The creature, now given legs and the ability to roam and run, began to weep terribly; he cried. "S-Saren..." Rot whimpered. "I need you, Saren."

"I know," the man said, dryly, his masked eyes welling with pitiful, bitter tears. "I need you too, Rot. I need you to live. And I need to die. I'm the 'God' of Decay... so I should decay. I should decay until I am nothing, and so that I don't need to live in this pitiful place anymore. I want to dream that I'm back there, again... coming home, to those streets where my friends lived. Venadak made me a Prince, but I'll never be that. I'll always be this street-dweller... in this place, in this slum, because that's where I belong. I don't even speak like my fellows anymore... but I belong with them. All the little men in our raincoats... protected from the ashfall that would pour from above. I miss those days."

He lifted his hands, and pulled off his mask. He was dying... so much faster than he had even known. What was it that became the final trigger -- the ending blow? He didn't know; he couldn't have. He just felt, so suddenly, like he had the most overwhelming need... to sleep. And so, as his mask came off, the God of a man pulled his hands back to his chest, and threaded his fingers into the tattered woolen shirt he wore around his pale skin. He held himself, laying in a pod-encased bed, and closed his eyes. Vividly, he remembered those ancient years, and he smiled. He smiled.

Rot's tears poured... like the ashfall, like the Bleeding, like a roaring tide. Sobbing, sobbing, and then nothing.

He was dead.

Saren, the God who truly held everything together, was dead.

Frost 49, Year of 4622.

- - -

Perhaps the fog was a commemoration, or perhaps it was grief. Rot's grief was more confounding than anything he could have imagined another soul to face; the fog was his tears, and the sound of his tears?

"Du du... du du..."

Du...

"Ah... ah... AAAAH..."

He wailed, hunched over the edge of one of the courtyard fountains, rocking back and forth. "Du du... du du..." the creature whimpered. "Du du... du du..."

And then they approached, slowly, each of them. They stepped into the fog... and it began to clear. They could see him, now, pitiful as he was. Rot began to rub his eyes, shaking his head and dunking his face into the water to take big, heavy breaths. He pulled himself out, rubbing his eyes one more time before turning towards the group and flushing with embarrassment.

"I-I, I'm sorry," he pathetically said. The fish turned away, trying not to look at them. "It is... my Lord..." he whimpered. "I can see him in the water... his memory, his face. But now... my Lord is gone."

Rot began to cry again; no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, all he could do was cry, and all he could be was a crier. He was always that -- he was the frail, weak little fish, decaying in the polluted well Saren found him in. He could remember, even now, gasping as he pulled him from the well; his lungs burned, filled with toxins, and then Saren mended him and gave him a basin for a home. He was born alone -- his mother had died shortly after she'd laid him, but after he was given his little tub to swim in, he'd never been alone again.

Until now.

"Du du... du du..." he sobbed. "Y-you... have to help me," Rot whimpered, "set things right... p-please..."

[Gloomcrest]

50th of Frost, 4622

As the amber-eyed thief slowly crept to the enshrouded courtyard, where the fish-like creature ended its journey not too long ago, a wave of emotions swelled; the atmosphere was dense, heavy and silent… A reminder of death loomed around every corner, a quiet companion people fear and are allured by.

This so-called rabbit hole that Jared just dove into despite his worsening condition took a moment to stand quiet as the fog encapsulating the Priory felt heavy on his soul. The amber-eyed scoundrel wasn’t jaded by death, merely afraid of what it could do to the person affected and the ripples that cast themselves in the still pond.

The sound of tears descending one’s face, whether it was from a man, woman, child or any living being, was a thing that Jared hated as it brought back too many painful memories; sorrow, in its essence, was something that Jared couldn’t explain well at the moment.

Fear that once took place when Rot first arrived has morphed into something more than, was it sympathy? No… That was right… Jared’s weakened body started moving on its own, inching closer to the creature, bouts of emotions his usual stoic self couldn’t contain. The rawness of the scene before the thief echoes a truth that even the thief feared for too long…

For Jared, his reason to live was to preserve himself and find out who he was as a whole, yet his fear of passing beyond the veil from the living to the dead was more for those he met; In truth, he was afraid to leave people behind or having people forget about him and the wake that his missing presence might inflict upon the many.

Pitiful wasn’t the right word for what Jared experienced; it was easier to say or feel sorry for such a creature. Continuing to move forward, the nightfallen thief merely discards his umbralplasm walking stick, letting its essence disappear into the fog as the solidified shadow vaporizer due to the lost connection between it and Jared.

it takes a bit of time for the weakened Alistian to make his way to the courtyard fountain, where Rot has to take a few deep gulps of water. The thief couldn’t help but start crying himself, sitting right beside the grieving creature; his weakened shoulders lifting so slowly over the creature and, before long, an embrace; one of not pity for that was not the thief’s intentions but instead suffering alongside the miserable creature.

“There is no need to apologise…"

"To lose someone whom you loved for so long and deep;
The hollowed presence echoes far for those that weep;
When the sun dips and their light fades;
Leaving behind only their visage & shade;
Once complete and bright, a tired voice can finally rest peacefully in its sleep;”

The thief couldn’t help but let his dry and hoarse voice speak. Lost was everywhere, and that is no different to another, but the depth and connections make a loss so meaningful.

“The sorrow, the grief, the anguish you feel is the price we all paid for truly loving someone so deep… It is a price we have paid to have them in our lives, enriching them with moments both beautiful and fleeting… The memories, his face you see in the water is everything you truly cherish… Don’t let go, and remember every single part of them… For all their virtues and flaws, every second spent is a price we all pay to live with someone who we loved so dearly”

Jared continues to speak, letting his heart and soul take the wheel to guide him in providing some sort of solace, despite the woes of inflicting more pain. Rot needed a vulnerable heart, an exposed soul of compassion by his side, to grieve, not alone. Despite being a total stranger, Jared would do so willingly, his chest hurt by the strain of his mageblight, but to endure for someone else was in need; no matter what the price had to be, Grief can change many for better or worse.

“I don’t know how I can help, but I can try… Whatever it is that needs to be set right, I am here… You are not alone… Share your grief, lean on me if you need to; For truly you are not alone to suffer…”

The amber-eyed thief couldn’t stop himself from speaking what was true for him at the time, and he was weeping, not out of sympathy but to understand what Rot was going through truly; It may not be precisely the same degree of raw emotion that the fish-like creature was feeling but still to be able to connect with a total strange was the effort the tired thief was trying to make. Establishing an honest and raw connection between two complete strangers in the wake of mourning and silence.

[Arkash]

Claws bared at the ready, Arkash carefully navigated the thick black fog, blighted eyes limited until the obstructive darkness began to clear. His brow furrowed and his eyes squinted as the creature's shape became clear, followed by all its details.

Shortly after, Arkash realized that the others had also joined him in the fog, as he stopped to look about, and found Jared with his walking stick, Taelian with his husband, and Moop. Arkash's stance relaxed a little, and his claws withdrew to their natural proportions.

His arms crossed over his chest when he finally found sense enough to relax with Taelian in their proximity, but he still watched the creature with uncertainty. His brow furrowed when it became apparent that the beast was crying. For what? It was soon revealed.

"You'a Lord?" Arkash asked, comparably hard and cold to the depth and warmth of the fish's pleas. He shook his head as Jared began to step forward, speaking his poetry. Arkash curled his nose a little, gripping his black sword's pommel. He watched with the utmost care as Jared carried on and drew ever near the beast, and then took the fish in an embrace. The Rathor's stance became increasingly aggressive until he was very nearly poised to charge the fish with a forward lean and a bend to his knee that prepared him to sprint at the drop of a coin.

When no such attack came, Arkash exhaled a deep breath from his nostrils and stood up properly. A deep exhale bled the tension from his shoulders, and he shook his head again. "Listen..." He began with a turn of his clawed hand. "As much as 'ewa feelin' bad right now, am sorrey, Losin' people's tough..." He began. "...But look!" he gestured with some degree of enthusiasm. "'Ew've got 'ew freedom now. No Lord t' drag 'ew down!" His reptilian lips curled a little in a botched attempt to offer a comforting smile.

"Ew can be you'a own person now, 'ew've got an 'ole world out 'er t' see an' explore. Cryin' ova 'ew dead masta' won' bring 'im back, but celebratin' you'a release might make 'ew feel betta'," claimed the antiauthoritarian. His hand stayed on the pommel of his blade through his given advice while the Nightfallen clung to the creature, though he didn't once motion to draw it. "Wiv 'at in mind, 'ow can we 'elp 'ew, ser?"

Image source.

[Ford Edevane]

Once the group had seemed to leave the confines of their rooms, having a small amount of time to recover from the ordeal of their futures being shown to them, they were led away from the safety of their shared rooms. The fish creature had lured them away just enough before the emotional scene unfolded before them all. The creature’s wailing struck deep within the Griscian’s being. For a moment, it echoed a sensation he had similarly felt in Bel, in their shared vision of the future. The creature was not merely hurting; his soul was crying. And for that brief moment, Ford connected with it as they stood, watching the scene before them.

First, it was Jared who acted, saying sweet words that sounded like something Ford would say in some random romantic interlude to try and sway a difficult situation into something more beautiful and lined with finery. The hardened look that was mixed with the dark circles enveloping those blue orbs had softened a little. He did not know the thief well, but he had seen enough to have a baser instinct for the man at least, and the example set before the blonde was no different.

As Jared embraced the creature, the blonde’s right brow rose as it was Arkash’s turn to confront the creature. Arkash’s attempt at diffusing the situation was very different from Jared’s, but it was how Arkash attempted to quell the fish’s sadness. Having stood a bit behind the lot of them, Taelian in tow with him, he watched the pair of them attempting to comfort the creature in their own way. The right corner of his mouth pulled a bit until he felt that half-smile tugging at his features. They both had the same intentions, just different viewpoints. And while Arkash was busy trying to build the creature up, the blonde’s eyes scanned him over for a briefer moment before looking back to the creature who had been wailing.

“They are both correct, you know.” The Griscian had finally chosen to speak. “I do not know what happened to your Lord. But between the lot of us, I do not think there is enough cruelty that would allow you to continue to suffer without at least trying. We have all lost someone close. Some of us have had our souls torn from our bodies and replaced in a jumbled mess. Others have lost the one person who understood them when nobody else did. We-…”

Ford had wanted to say they could help the creature, but he instantly remembered their swift defeat in the vision they had assumedly all been given. The Griscian’s sapphire gaze slid to Jared, then to Arkash and the others before looking back to the creature as a smile pulled at the other corner of his mouth. “I think I speak for all of us. In one way or another, we will do our best.” Forcing those words out of his mouth had been both annoying and painful, mostly for reasons that applied to Ford himself. Ford could not find it in him to impart cruelty unto the creature, no matter the situation they had all just experience.

[Moop]

¤

None of them responded to her call but she was beckoned ahead instead by the strange sound yet again. It would seem the beast man from before was sobbing. She watched the others comfort the beast man and reached out to do the same but stopped herself short. What words could she offer to console such a creature? What could she say that hadn't yet been said? Approaching closer the best she could offer was comfort by proximity, a sign of solidarity. Leaning against the edge of the fountain Moop thought about her home, the sadness of this beast making her sad as well. Scraping her finger against the stone the fog was nearly completely gone. Tapping her finger in a metronome then scraping. Lost in thought.

She was never good with her words, not in the way that was to comfort others. She was better with her actions. Showing others how she felt. Though in recent years she was nothing short of a liar and a deceiver, would her sister cry this way for her? But more importantly, would she cry this way for her sister? Something changed in her then, she wished to be home. Pushing off of the fountain she looked to the beast man and then the others.
"What is your name, Beastman? And how do you expect us to help? Lastly, who is your Master? If you have any knowledge you can give to us, to give us an edge...."
Moop flinched thinking of the dream prior, watching everyone who stood here now die one by one...
"Please do, I'm afraid I can only speak for myself when I say I may not be strong enough to do your bidding, yet, that is me alone. We can work together to see this through but not without your help, can you guide us? Pardon me, stranger. My name is Moop. I'm afraid it's a sad day to make your acquaintance, but a good day to make a new friend."
She extended her hand to him then, with a gentle, unsure smile. Bowing her head she looked up again and into his eyes.