Faerie's Spite

[DanteriusAvius]

"Little Sister Xian."

"Worry not my kin. I'll give everything I have to keep you hidden. To keep you safe."

"To be of us, is to fear the greed of men.

Know that many would subject you to agony.

Feel even the most basic of dignities torn from your back.

Witness an agony none but us can understand.

Wish for anything else.

Anything but this."

"Bloodmistress."

"You can't win fighting the mortals. Only one force has been known to quell their plague."

"Yet, while they burn and destroy more of our gardens.

We persist.

While they expand in their tumultuous masses, their all-consuming hydra.

We regrow.

When they push to the heavens, their avarice seeking ever more.

We erode."

"Beautiful. Lovely. Perfect."

"Even now, it's been proven. The mortals kill each other far more efficiently than we ever could."

"In us they see chaos.

An untamed nature, to be harvested or destroyed.

The truth of it is.

Their flesh is born of chaos.

They will subjugate our kind to feed their selfishness.

They will raze our gardens, to make their elixirs.

Unless they're turned on a more apt foe."

"Follow us into the dark, and let this bloody reminder give you my own pact-"

[DanteriusAvius]

Sleeping

"It's entertaining isn't it Mother? Your smallest servant spreading your words so far, leading those much larger. I haven't forgotten even for a moment. The Mire is your gift to us. We must safeguard it, like a flower bed, that it may yield more and more to us. Your words spread even to the outsiders, who come to love you as I do. Your blessing, your divinity, it sustains all of us, it fills the Mire and continues to grow.

Of course, I'll remember who exiled your name. Who callously forgot their Mother. Who choose to remain Sleeping."

Outcast

"They come at your call. My words, an inelegant, fumbling tool to convey the perfection of what you are. My actions, a pale imitation of your inspiration. The proclamations, that which you yourself told us to do. Perhaps slower than you would've liked. Not as decisively. But the Mire is truly yours now. More than simply the land you blessed, it is the land that seeks to bless you in return Mother. Those who will not respect you are no longer welcome to tread upon your gift so callously.

Those who choose to be an Outcast."

Sacrifice

"I know, what you require. It's something I remind the acolytes of every day. And as your Bloodmistress, as the Lady of the Mire, I must be ready to give far more than could be reasonably expected. My blood, my life, my steadfast devotion, these are but trifles. When I began to spread your words, I tossed away my personal safety, that I could begin to bring the Mortals back to your embrace. My hatred still burns, but I can no longer heed it, as that would interfere with your work. Even now I long desperately to see your divine personage once more, to know these whispers are yours.

But I'll lose even that desire. The Acolytes deserve to have that moment. My Sacrifice."

Awakened

"We're brought to now. I've awakened not only the Acolytes, but the Mire, and still I seek to bring your words wider. Through the embrace of the Gentle Dark, or through the bloodletting we mete upon your enemies. I hope that Jaste found his way back to your embrace Mother. He was punished for his sacrilege at the end, and he was faithful for so long.

I'm leading, as you told me to. I hope to send some Acolytes out, to learn more, to expand the knowledge of the Faith. Your book, soon, we will attempt to connect it to your divinity. And after that, I hope to follow in the path it opens.

Beyond the Mire, Esshar itself will be Awakened."

[DanteriusAvius]

A distant cackle has begun to haunt the deep-woods of the Mire, sourced to the infamous Fae.

"A vessel. Empty. What I desire above all else is to be is a vessel for you Mother. That you may one day walk the world in some capacity, that others may see you, and in that sight, love you as we do. Rejoice in your beauty, delight at your brilliance, and bask in your love. To bring the Silent Paradise of your embrace to Esshar."

Within the woods south of the academy, if one looks, a trail of death can be found at times, as if a rot passed in one particular path.

"I rarely spoke of my fears, even to my equals within the Mire. That I hadn't heard your voice, nor seen you in so long. I didn't know if you approved of my worship. We only had the Motes you granted us. I didn't know if you were happy, or if I had failed you and didn't know. I continued, on faith alone. With few I could confide, I continued to commune, continued to consult, continued to convert. Until that day by the Mine."

Glowing Emerald Eyes watch from the brambles, accompanied by the smell of rot and death on the wind.

"It's such a funny thing. After Ariel lost to that man, and Rajak descended upon me, I wasn't afraid. I knew that my end may come, weakened as I was by that same creature, but I would fight. I knew I would return to you in death. There was nothing to fear. Protected unexpectedly, as I tried to gain what distance I could it was at that moment, when I understood. All the whispers I'd heard before. Every communing I'd done with the Mote. Every acolyte, every drop of blood. The sheer brilliance of it all. You'd guided myself and my Champion to that mine. We may have lost but it was as I was ready to accept my own fate that I felt your gift stir. All the lessons you'd taught me without me even knowing. They came together with that final piece."

Death has returned to Esshar, born upon the smallest of its creatures.

"I hadn't mastered how to wield it, I was still weak in its usage, but I made him work, it was difficult for him. I may have lost, but I survived. I've heard your message. I know what you will, and it shall be done. The road you've set us is difficult, both for the Mire, and for the Faith. But I will never falter in your service. Not until I can no longer fly.

I wished to be a vessel for you, and this is a step on that path. A vessel for the tiniest portion of your power."

But Esshar is what birthed this creature. A country of endless deaths deserves only what it has sowed. A Faerie's Spite.

[DanteriusAvius]

The Mire no longer heard the soft words of its Lady.

But her closest student, the human she trusted above all others remembered their first promise.

To protect the cradle of the Fae, deep within the sacred grounds.

Her soul rested with the Mother.

And her spirit would remain, to watch over her kin.

No matter if they'd follow in her steps.

~Fin~