Newborn Pit of Regret

Sunken District of Artisans, Fourth Ring

Annabelle finally put her back down onto the ground. Tharia gave her a quick kiss to thank her and then leaned onto a chest-high broken wall. This part had been underwater a few minutes ago and she shivered at the memory of nearly drowning earlier. The cityscape had changed drastically. In theory, they were back at the District of Artisans but in practice, a hole in the ground had swallowed up most of it. What was left was a weird mesh of mushroom fiber and a handful of towers sticking out of the ground. They had a black crown in the middle where they once were connected to the obsidian ceiling. The massive skeleton in the background still covered most of the district and gave it that eery feeling. Rays of sunlight tried to sneak past the carcass while her stomach growled with hunger.

“Annie, are we the bad guys?”

A squeaky voice came out of her new staff, “Yes, you hrnngnmmlppflll”

Tharia wrapped her hand around the cage segment and look, no more squeaky voice. She balanced on her toes to get a better look at the carnage.

“What a mess”, Tharia said.

She heard Annabelle approach and turned her head just in time to see a pale hand smack her bottom. Her body jolted up in response. Immediately after, the pain was replaced by a gentle caress as Annabelle snuck close to Tharia.

“It was a promise”, the goddess said and then focussed her eyes on the pit. Tharia gave up her thoughts of revenge and snuggled against Annabelle. She enjoyed the warm touch and gently traced her fingers along Annabelle’s arms. Small flames of blue light danced on her knuckles. Healing magic worked its way into her friend. Her fingers left a trail of goosebumps and it wasn’t until Annabelle gasped for air, that Tharia noticed it had been a bit more sensual than needed.

“Shush, I’m healing”, Tharia said with a grin. The small woman resumed working, but this time, she was quite a bit more conscious – and bold - about where she was touching. There was nothing quite like teasing a pouting goddess. At the same time, she kept up a casual conversation.

“This is beautiful. Paint me purple and call me Salacia, but ever since I was a child, I’ve often dreamed about overgrown cities. It’s this feeling of something forlorn, that’s getting me all nostalgic for a place I’ve rarely been and had even less good memories about”

She noticed that Annabelle was lost in thought and stopped her ministrations in favor of just plain healing the wounds in one go. Tharia drank in the sounds and smells of the sunken district. The air was heavy with a musky stench that mixed with the odd scent of mold. There was a lot of sound around them. She heard water drip down from old ruin ceilings and noticed fish monsters flop about after their home more or less just up and left. In time, she heard something else. She looked back up at Annabelle and poked her chin from below.

“Voices, someone is coming. We should be prepared”

Tharia stood off in an alley to the side. A rivulet of water dripped down on her, but she kept perfectly still. She had a good view of Annabelle. They had decided to let the goddess be visible. Tharia saw her lean against a wall with the scythe resting next to her. The goddess had her eyes closed but she still looked like something out of old myths with that silver-hair flowing in the wind. It hadn’t taken long to prepare and so they were done before the voices had gotten close.

“Move up!” an old sounding woman said. Her tone of voice was gruff as if she was used to giving orders. Tharia heard the shuffling of steps on the mushroom mesh.

“We’ve got company ma'am!” someone shouted from high above on the rooftops, “Looks like a woman. Hot damn, it’s like she’s from a painting”

“Paintshaper?” the old woman inquired.

“No, more like actual living flesh. I think she noticed us”, the man from the roof replied. The steps got much closer to Tharia and soon she heard metallic clanking from above her. She pressed herself flat against the wall when a young man crossed the gap above. His jump dislodged a cloud of spores and dust. Gold dust. One down, Tharia counted in her mind.

“Alright everyone, move up”, the old woman ordered. More steps came rushing forward. Tharia counted four people in total. They closed in on Annabelle while keeping up the formation. Tharia felt like a master tactician when she saw all of them covered in a fine film of gold dust that had blended in with the spores.

The man on the roof aimed his crossbow at Annabelle which made the short-haired girl bite her lower lip. She was tempted to ignite the dust right there but decided against it. Her attention wandered towards the leader. The old woman had an aura of dignity that was unfazed by grey hair and the wrinkles on her face. She wore the leather armor with pride and the casualness of someone that had done so for many years. Aside from the marksman on the roof, there were two more humans. One was a young girl that looked frailer than Tharia herself - with the exception of her arms. Those had considerable muscle, something the frail girl would need for the bow over her shoulder. The last person was a man of about fifty years. He was clad in heavy armor but his sun-weathered skin placed him as a farmer by trade. Their leader approached Annabelle. Her sword was sheathed and she showed two open palms in Annabelle’s direction.

“Name’s Mayleen”, the old woman said, “We’ve got you surrounded, but don’t worry. We mean no harm to you”

Annabelle opened her eyes and looked at each of the strangers in turn, before focussing on the one that had introduced herself as Mayleen.

“Is that so?”

“You look like you’ve been through a lot. We’ve got shelter and we can offer food if you’re willing to work for it. Well, you need to pass tests first”, Mayleen put up a smile. Tharia had one word for this lot: Gullible. She listened as the old woman continued.

“Well, the first one you’ve passed. You talk, so you’re not a paintshaper. The second test is to see if you can bleed. Nothing much, just a single drop will be enough”

Annabelle reached up for the Scythe and three people grabbed their weapons in response. Only Mayleen held up a hand and bid them halt. Everyone, even Tharia, watched the goddess run a finger along the edge of the weapon until a fine cut appeared on it.

“That enough?”

“Plenty. If you want, you’re welcome to our enclave. We were just hunting for supplies. We’ll keep an eye on you of course and you’ll be living away from the others until you’ve proven yourself. But food and shelter - we can guarantee”, Mayleen said and held out a hand towards Annabelle. The goddess, however, made no attempt at returning the gesture.

The thought of food drove Tharia to the edge. Her body was hungry, no way around it and this was as good a point as any to intervene. She stepped out of the alley. The staff served as a walking stick, part in playful deception and part because her back ached from exhaustion.

“You’ve got to excuse my friend. Not many are allowed to touch her”, Tharia said. Their reaction filled her with glee. Mayleen first stared at her and then shot a very angry glare at the marksman on the roof. No words were needed to scold him right then and there. The girl with the bow slid the weapon of her shoulders but without a sign from her leader, she didn’t dare notch an arrow. Tharia shot them a pained smile, part of it was an elaborate mask and part of it was real.

“Don’t worry, I’m no threat to anyone. I can barely walk. She has protected me all this time”, she said with a nod to Annabelle, “Sorry for the deception too. Can’t be too careful in these times. To prove I’m no monster...”

Tharia brought up her left hand and then cut her finger with the sigil ring. A single drop of blood dripped out of it and onto the ground. Yet that gesture didn’t have the intended effect. The old woman suddenly stomped over towards Tharia and grabbed her hand with an iron grip. She stared at the Sigil and her expression soured.

“Our invitation does not extend to the likes of your brood. This proves, without a doubt, that you’re more monster than anything else in this city”, Mayleen said and then took a step back, “This is called off. Everyone, be ready for anything. There’s no trusting scum like this”

Annabelle ever so slightly raised her eyebrows and reached her hand for the Scythe. The marksman on the roof raised the crossbow. He had a confused look on his face that the other strangers shared. Tharia looked at her ring and sighed.

“One does not choose their family”, she said, “That’s a reasonable stance to have with my family. Nonetheless, I’ve got two requests I’d like to ask for anyway. First, kindly part with one ration for each of us. We won’t last long without it. Second, if you have information on the whereabouts of my brother, I’d appreciate it. I’m here to relieve you of this nightmare”

Mayleen gnashed her teeth as she shot a look at her companions. No one made a move and Tharia started to feel uncomfortable from all the stares. The old woman kneaded the base of her nose and sighed.

“One night. In the stable”, Mayleen said, “You’ll get food and a place to rest up. Your brood might be monsters, but we’re still humans. However, we insist you will accompany us blindfolded”

Tharia shot a glance towards Annabelle and found the goddess nodding. Tharia then nodded in agreement while her eyes glanced over their dust-covered clothes. Even blindfolded, she’d be in a position of power. She leaned her weight on the staff to signify she needed it to walk. That wasn’t a lie at this point, Tharia was drained.

Survivor Enclave

District of Travellers, Fourth Ring

When it came to Tharia, this didn’t qualify as a stable. It might have been one at some point but there wasn’t a single trace of hay left. Two dirty mattresses laid on the cold stone floor with a flimsy blanket on them. The gate was locked and she heard voices from outside. For all intents and purposes, this felt like a prison cell instead. She didn’t complain though and the reason for that was the soup and bread they had received.

Each spoonful brought warmth into her bones and this instilled her with a buzzing happiness. She paced her eating but the soup was gone all too soon. Annabelle’s wasn’t, however. Tharia inched ever closed and when Annie was distracted, she snuck a spoonful of soup from her bowl. The goddess tried to ignore it at first but soon grew agitated. That’s when the short-haired girl used her ultimate weapon, she slightly pursed her lips and opened her eyes wide. With her head tilted to the side and her eyebrows cocked, even a puppy would melt away.

“Come on, don’t do that”, Annabelle said with a growl. Tharia kept the gaze up and offered her bread in exchange for the soup. Annie managed two more spoons. A bowl was exchanged for a loaf of bread and Tharia once more got to celebrate the joy of warmth filling her from deep within. They ate the rest of it in silence, so deep was her reverence for the warm meal.

This was alright. Fighting monsters really brought out the beauty in small moments. She stole a glance towards Annabelle and saw her friend contemplative. With mischief in her eyes, she poked Annie’s nose and then scurried away on the mattress.

“You’re childish”, said Annabelle. It was hard as usual to read her facial expression.

“And you love it”

“Perhaps”, admitted Annabelle and gave her a soft smile. Tharia didn’t know why she suddenly felt the urge to change the topic. A solemn mood had taken hold of her as if to sabotage the happiness.

“I’ve decided Annie. If my brother is still alive, he won’t be for long”, she declared. Odd sounds from outside the stable indicated she had listeners, but didn’t care either way.

“He’s going down”, she continued, “It’s not even some noble goal like saving the people around him. It’s just cold-blooded murder. If it helps other people, that’s nice but my motive is to see his light snuffed out for my own sake”

The words felt right to herself. This wasn’t a decision born from a momentary impulse, it had festered for many years and had roots in a time when she had still been whole. Her eyes searched for Annabelle. There were no reactions and Tharia realized that her friend was busy with something of her own. She nudged close again and playfully nibbled on Annie’s earlobe until the silver-haired girl took notice.

“Annie? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Back in the cave, you cursed the gods. What was that about?” Tharia asked. Annabelle grew quiet and distant again. Her eyes fixed on a point far away before she spoke with a voice completely devoid of feelings.

“The gods were parasites. They lived on emotions, always scheming, manipulating and extracting feelings”, Annabelle said.

A sudden squeaky voice interjected. It lacked all of its usual scorn and sarcasm. The firesprite sat inside the cage with arms wrapped around the tiny legs and wings fluttering behind her back.

“It’s because your kind is broken. Of course, you’re going for what you lack. It’s not really your fault. Your long lost ancestors are the ones that broke creation in two. Everything else is just an aftershock of desperately trying to piece it back together”

Tharia leaned forward and reached for the staff. Simply picking it up let the sprite tumble around and she felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”, she said. Somewhere along the way, her anger for the spirit had left.

It too was but a tool, like she herself had been. The sprite shot her a threatening look that appeared cute, simply due to the small size.

“You know, if you could get me a cushion of sorts, it would help a lot”, the sprite said and then fixed her gaze on the two women, “Well, broken creation and cursed tongue, one part divine, another part arcane. Both can lead to ascension but both are flawed. The divine lacks emotion and the arcane lacks mind. The result of the latter... well take a look around”

Annabelle grew distracted once more. This couldn’t be because she had been honest about her snapping and attacking blindly, could it? Tharia felt her stomach churn and her mouth suddenly started babbling.

“A proper stable should have horses and hay. Do horses eat hay? Maybe they eat, hm what do horses eat? Apples so why not a shelf with apples they can pick from when they’re hungry and... I’m doing it again”, Tharia said and took a deep breath, “Sorry. You, spirit? Mind telling us your name?”

“Sisariliszimna”, it answered.

“Sisi”, Tharia said and smiled, “thank you for the information. Do you know why the Dreamreaper wanted to ascend children?”

The sprite showed a momentary pout at the abbreviation but then just shrugged its tiny shoulders and replied, “You mean Antedescenta? The feathered one? He was convinced he could combine divine and arcane essences to create true vessels. Only one child survived and that kid cheated by contracting with an old one”

The spirit meant her. She fell back onto the mattress and pulled her legs up. Her eyes stared holes into the nearby wall. There were shadows moving about outside, no doubt still listening on their conversation. Part of her felt like giving them a certain show that would make their ears blush, but neither of them was in the mood for anything. Not least of all they now had an onlooker in the form of Sisi.

Annabelle laid down next to her and Tharia used the chance to sneak her head onto Annie’s hip. Using it as a cushion, she got comfortable. Her mind faintly registered a verbal protest but she just held on and was fast asleep within seconds.

Tharia woke up with the mother of all back pains. Annabelle’s soft hip had been replaced by two stuffed cushions. She felt her legs stretch and realized she had forgot to detach the spark the night before.

“Grnnnng”, she tried to say.

“Love you too”, Annabelle said. Tharia blinked and saw her cross-legged on the edge of the mattress. The goddess was dressed in fresh clothes and her hands had discolorations from what looked like farmwork. Annie unfolded her legs and then massaged the limbs with a pained grimace.

“Ouch”, groaned Tharia, “how many carriages did pass through here?”

“In the last two days? At least thirteen”, Annabelle said with a hint of a smile showing on her face.

“Two what?” Tharia was suddenly wide awake.

“You slept through the whole of yesterday”, Annabelle said and then paused to consider her next words, “They let us stay. You were pretty clear in your hate for your brother. There will be more soup too”

“Harrrgnnnngg”, came Tharia’s reply as she bit down on her wrist. She really didn’t feel like getting up. Every single bone had a rebellious streak today. Without looking into a mirror, she could tell several hairstrands had decided to go for their best horn impression too.

“Fairy?”

“Hrmmmppff?”

“Can you teach me Epacia?” Annabelle suddenly asked. This woke the sleepy girl right up. Tharia pushed her weary body off the mattress and blinked.

“It’s some card game”, Annabelle explained.

“I know what Epacia is. It’s also known as the ender of families, because it always ends in arguments. Why do you want to learn it?”

The goddess looked to the side. It looked too cute for Tharia’s tastes and she couldn’t help but pull herself over towards her. This looked more alluring in her mind than in practice. Really, she more or less flopped across the mattress and then groaned as more bones hurt. Annabelle was done being shy and answered.

“They invited me to play. It seemed fun”

“Yeah, okay sure. I can teach you. Do you have the cards and a board?”

Annabelle placed a wooden plank on the bed. Someone had edged several rectangles into the wood - the playing field. Tharia smirked. An improvised board seemed perfect for this type of game. The goddess then produced a set of cards. Tharia gave them a quick glance over and nodded. This was a typical Valarn Cardset, in the days of old it had been used to lay out the path of destiny in some sort of cult. It quickly turned into a regular cardgame. Epacia was a variant thereof.

“Alright, it’s fairly easy to play. The goal is to have as long a path of cards as you can manage. Each turn you place one card wherever you want. Well, there are rules as to where you can lay them down, we’ll get there. Each turn, you also continue a story you invent”, Tharia said and smiled.

“Really, the story is the main focus of this. There are actually more rules to this, such as not being able to cross paths but we’ll get there while playing. I’ll start and explain what I do”

Tharia picked up the deck of cards and drew an equal number for both of them. She then drew seven cards into her hand.

“First I place this Crossroad. It has more than two connections”, she nodded and then changed the pitch of her voice, “Thus the story begins with little boy Hamriet entering the forest of despair in search of his sister”

“My turn?” Annabelle asked and when Tharia nodded, she put down a crossroad as well. An awkward silence came after.

“Annie?” Tharia said after a few more moments of this.

“Yes?”

“You need to come up with a story”, Tharia added and grinned.

“Oh. Uh. Ahem. Well, A boy left his farm to uh, fight evil”, Annabelle stuttered. Tharia struggled to contain her laughter. It was just too cute.

“Good! You did well”, she lied and then quickly put down a pathway, a card with only two connections, “The forest was dark and the path was dreary. There was no end in sight”

Annabelle listened quietly and then put down another crossroad, “Ahem, the little boy uh searched for his enemies”

Somehow, this silly little game helped with Tharia's fatigue. They played turn after turn but no matter how long they played, Annabelle’s stories didn’t get any better. It still amused Tharia to see her try.

“He... found a cavern with... bloodthirsty ah”, Annabelle stuttered once more. The short haired girl suddenly leaned forward.

“Sheep!”

“Bloodthirsty sheep... what?”

“You said it, it’s canon now”, Tharia spoke with a beaming smile on her lips. It lasted two breaths before she started laughing.

“You’re mocking me”, Annabelle said with a pout on her lips. Tharia stretched her arms and then put down her cards. She shuffled over towards Annabelle’s side and leaned into her.

“I didn’t mean to, Annie. Honestly, the point of Epacia is to come up with ever more ludicrous stories. Usually, it quickly devolves into adult topics. It’s fun if you don’t take it serious but as a game, it’s pretty bad”

Just by moving over, the mood had changed. Annabelle had a slightly unfocused look and her chest heaved with a quickened pace. Tharia was transfixed by the way the supple bosom played with the folds of the blouse. There was no skin to be seen but that made it all the more alluring to her. She noticed how the tiny creases and folds accented each movement of Annie’s curve and fell victim to their hypnotic sway. Warmth spread in her belly.

“Annie?” she said with a breathless voice. Her friend turned around and - gods, the blouse was stretched taut. It left little to the imagination. She noticed two spots where something was perking through the fabric and felt her breath quicken in response. Tharia wanted to touch, to nibble, here and there and oh definitely there. Her body shivered as she imagined unbuttoning the blouse one by one. She could feel the sweet taste of Annebelle’s skin as her lips found their way to her neck.

Every detail poured in on her, she noticed the soft touch, the quickened breathing and even the rapid thump of the pulse. Her lips left a trail of quickly cooling saliva on her way to the earlobe. Annie had her eyes closed. This display of rare vulnerability made Tharia bold. She suddenly lunged forward, put her arms on those strong shoulders and applied gentle pressure.

Nothing else mattered. She wanted this. Now. This moment. Her lips found the earlobe and she nibbled on it. She was gentle at first, but then with quickly growing need, she bit into it. A fine sweat formed on both their bodies and... something knocked on the door.

“Grub is ready”, shouted a male voice behind the door.

Tharia exhaled sharply and struggled with momentary murderous impulses.

End: Drained | Coming up: Determination