Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Aug 26, 2008 1:39:21 GMT -5
Wraith raises her hand to knock on the door for what she feels may be her last time to haunt these halls. Her time was changing, she'd felt herself slipping away from the fold long ago, only now she finally faced - and accepted - what was inevitable. She'd drifted away from the path of the Dead, and now wandered the lightless world of the Living, with only her heart and her conscience to guide her. But in all this time, had they ever lead her astray?
Wraith shakes her head. Preparing herself for what awaited her, on this first evening since the conclusion of her studies, she raises her hand to knock again.
The door creaks open.
Shuddering as an icy breath of air seeps out into the musty corridor, the former Dead pushes the door open, and steps into the room. As always it felt like plunging into the catacombs below Sigil, or some centuries-old sealed up and icy tomb. The presence of the Initiate and his firm hold on his beliefs pervaded the chamber, wafting from the walls like currents of frost and old dust. It frightened her, this extreme detachment from Life and all living things. Now more than ever before she realised: I do not belong here.
"You are Lost, child." He stated in his flat monotone, before Uathach even had a chance to open her mouth and address him as good breeding dictated. He didn't even swivel around to face her. He simply contemplated whatever held his attention behind the shield of his ancient leather armchair. "Not lost in the same sense as the cadavers that pass through this house. But lost because... You have strayed from the Path, or allowed yourself to fall away from the light of Truth."
Wraith froze where she stood, and fiddled uneasily with the ribbon ties of her bodice. Anxiously she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
"I care not for the decisions you make, child. I am much too advanced along my Path to feel as you would. I know that, though you are Lost, you will do what must be done. Perhaps you will return to Us. Perhaps not. Death is a patient mistress, and she claims all, in time. Just as the Fated collect the taxes, we collect the dead. All come to Us, sooner or later.
"But now is not your time, Uathach. I would Teach, but I cannot Teach those who allow their sight, their minds, to be blinded. Perhaps this is part of your lesson, your path to Truth, and to Us; to feel like the rest of the sightless, to feel what was and will never be again, to ingrain upon yourself some echo that may help you realise Enlightenment. Feeling is a hollow pursuit, child. But I would not preach to you, and you feel you must experience the world to understand your place in it; to understand how dead you truly are."
At this point during his recitation, Wraith's palms and brow began to sweat, and her heart beat faster. Her stomach clenched and gurgled. She felt nauseous and light-headed, like she wanted to faint, vomit, or both. The time she'd anticipated for so long was finally upon her. A door would soon slam shut, plunging her into darkness, closing her off from the only "life" she'd known.
"So be it, child. I release you into the world of feeling you crave." His final words echoed like the crack of a whip, a death knell, the executioner's blade falling in the silence of an empty room... It left her feeling lost, hollow and sick inside.
Reeling from the shock of his pronouncement, Wraith clutches her belly and stumbles out of the chamber. The door slams shut with an echoing bang behind her, sealing her fate. She was a stag-turner, traitor to herself and others, and no one took kindly to those who shirked their beliefs. It was time to leave now.
Wraith wasted no time. She turned her back on the Dead, and exited the Mortuary as fast as she could.
Wraith shakes her head. Preparing herself for what awaited her, on this first evening since the conclusion of her studies, she raises her hand to knock again.
The door creaks open.
Shuddering as an icy breath of air seeps out into the musty corridor, the former Dead pushes the door open, and steps into the room. As always it felt like plunging into the catacombs below Sigil, or some centuries-old sealed up and icy tomb. The presence of the Initiate and his firm hold on his beliefs pervaded the chamber, wafting from the walls like currents of frost and old dust. It frightened her, this extreme detachment from Life and all living things. Now more than ever before she realised: I do not belong here.
"You are Lost, child." He stated in his flat monotone, before Uathach even had a chance to open her mouth and address him as good breeding dictated. He didn't even swivel around to face her. He simply contemplated whatever held his attention behind the shield of his ancient leather armchair. "Not lost in the same sense as the cadavers that pass through this house. But lost because... You have strayed from the Path, or allowed yourself to fall away from the light of Truth."
Wraith froze where she stood, and fiddled uneasily with the ribbon ties of her bodice. Anxiously she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
"I care not for the decisions you make, child. I am much too advanced along my Path to feel as you would. I know that, though you are Lost, you will do what must be done. Perhaps you will return to Us. Perhaps not. Death is a patient mistress, and she claims all, in time. Just as the Fated collect the taxes, we collect the dead. All come to Us, sooner or later.
"But now is not your time, Uathach. I would Teach, but I cannot Teach those who allow their sight, their minds, to be blinded. Perhaps this is part of your lesson, your path to Truth, and to Us; to feel like the rest of the sightless, to feel what was and will never be again, to ingrain upon yourself some echo that may help you realise Enlightenment. Feeling is a hollow pursuit, child. But I would not preach to you, and you feel you must experience the world to understand your place in it; to understand how dead you truly are."
At this point during his recitation, Wraith's palms and brow began to sweat, and her heart beat faster. Her stomach clenched and gurgled. She felt nauseous and light-headed, like she wanted to faint, vomit, or both. The time she'd anticipated for so long was finally upon her. A door would soon slam shut, plunging her into darkness, closing her off from the only "life" she'd known.
"So be it, child. I release you into the world of feeling you crave." His final words echoed like the crack of a whip, a death knell, the executioner's blade falling in the silence of an empty room... It left her feeling lost, hollow and sick inside.
Reeling from the shock of his pronouncement, Wraith clutches her belly and stumbles out of the chamber. The door slams shut with an echoing bang behind her, sealing her fate. She was a stag-turner, traitor to herself and others, and no one took kindly to those who shirked their beliefs. It was time to leave now.
Wraith wasted no time. She turned her back on the Dead, and exited the Mortuary as fast as she could.