Untwisting Truths
7th of January 2007 A.D.
While you certainly do not object to making a fourth talisman for the Ventori or the archive herself, there is no escaping the fact that the most readily available reagents for your work are bodies.
"Or souls," a reminder you could have done without comes from the depths of your mind wrapped in a mussing about breaking the Archive's restrictions, giving her present host dominion over magic and lore of old.
"If any of the Seers could it would be the one who has known no other life, who understands the intricacies of its power as one might know the back of her own hand, or the beat of her heart."
Shaking off the thought you raise three fingers. "An exorcism for every shard bound, not to speculate about other circumstances under which I might do it of course."
Translation: I'd do it for free, but I am playing along.
The girl nods, a sparkle of understanding in her eyes. Part of you wants to ask if it's always like this, as though you are a politician or a lawyer hunting for probable deniability, but really you know it is. Power is power.
As the two of you step onto the shore of the lake she approaches Titania to whisper something in her ear, briefly looking like a kid asking her very well dressed aunt for a treat.
Add that one to the bin of thoughts that are not for sharing.
Then the Archive pulls tightly wrapped pieces of colored ribbon out of her sleeve, the first time you had seen her use any props for her magic.
Blue, white, red, black and green... the colors of the elements five each one covered in symbols stitched in the other four colors: Script flowing from logogram to syllabic script and even some bits that looks like they are binary.
Not that you have a lot of time to read it since she tosses all five of them in the air and, frowning in concentration weaves them together as they flash in the light of eternal Summer They dance in twos and threes, four together then all five. Space itself seems to bend and bloom in a way that makes you feel a little giddy.
A dodecahedral complex, the thought does not come in English, but in that other language that is to English what English is to birdcalls.
"That'll hold 'em," the Archive proclaims testing one of the floating ribbons the way a violinist might caress bow to string.
"That would be even stronger if you did it in five dimensions," you muse aloud.
"And a castle is sturdier than a tent, but it's impolite to build a castle on someone else's land," she snorts, looking a little giddy herself.
"If you are entirely prepared..." Titania is too polite to sigh, but you can feel she'd like to which...
Hey, progress, she doesn't think I'm about to do soul surgery with a chainsaw if she's relaxed enough to feel impatient.
So one by one they are brought before you, those damned by the touch of the Enemy. Here in the heart of the faerie realm to which they had been sworn, by arcane art bounded. To the elements you call to witness, to hold fast that which is of them and cast out that which is not, to the moon most bright to give shape to shapeless shadow that the eye of the sun might fall upon it, that the stars might chart its fate.
Unlike with Maeve the murk takes no many legged shape, to scuttle or to strike, held fast by the precise coordinates of the Archive's working, not even able to speak to spill their bile on their killers. The three aspects seem like nothing so much as uneven shards of black glass tearing themselves out of flesh and spirit, shattering against the brass of your blade with great din. Essence flows through you as it had never done before, like a waterfall hurtling from on high. At first you see only disjointed images, a splattering of hate. Then a little more...
It had not wanted to attack after the ritual began because It
knew you could devour its shards and thereby potentially learning hastily made plans, making it all for naught
. Oh how it hates you, kind of flattering in a sick sort of way. Diversify, disperse, There is cold resolve, wrapped in the self-loathing that defines He Who Walks Beside. Sloppy, comfortable, took the easy path to power, predictable, open to counter.
"Mortals, mortals were mightier than the Betrayers and the Fools knew, move not with two hands, but two thousand, two million, two billion..."
There at the end you see flames set to wood that is not dry but green, stacked around a stake and you know at once the thought that it had attempted to keep from those pieces which you would consume. Persecution, its thoughts had turned to tearing aside the veil and letting fear of magic and those who practice it.
Lost 9 Essence (-15 Exorcisms; +6 MiM; -2 Excellencies +2 Secret Found) -> Now at 6/15
Before you can settle there's a splash, the great narwhal sinks under the surface of the water, its perlescent horn dim then Titania speaks: "You have done a great service to this me and to all who stand under the light of summer. Three who had been stolen from our company by stealth and spite have been restored and so three favors I grant you to name as you will so long as it does not harm to the Court or its great work."
Gained 3 Favors with the Summer Court
What do you reply?
[] Graciously thank Titania
[] Ask that for one of her favors she forgive Harry for his his part in Aurora's death
[] Write in
OOC: Molly did not use an excellency on her first insight roll since she did not know if she would succeed on Murder is Meat as the actions were simultaneous, not sequential so she did not know if she would have essence to spare.