Alptraum finds himself leaning against one of these trees, while several trees away, a dark form perches on a tree limb made primarily of femurs. "The poor Wraith, so tortured," whispers the familiar, cold voice of Sunala from somewhere close behind Alptraum. "Is this rebellious phase of yours nearly over yet, my Son?"
Alptraum hates these times, for he is never sure quite what they mean ... perhaps they are real, or perhaps it is a feeling of guilt that drives them. His head tilts and turns as he trues to get a good look at the dark form perched on the tree. "Rebellious phase?" he asks, uncertain of which of his recent actions is considered the rebellious part, to be honest. "My journey to Babel is progressing forward and soon I will be standing before you," he says, " I ... expect by then it will be at an end. How could it be anything else? And you say he is tortured? I do not seek to torture him; he is part of myself. I do not wish myself torment."
Sunala slips around the tree and locks elbows with Alptraum, also gazing blindly towards the crouched figure. "You locked him away, and do things that upset him," she notes, turning her face towards her son next. "You must take up your duties eventually, Barsunala. This odd dabbling in mortal sensations and.. activities.. is unbecoming. You spend your time appeasing Inala and Gorphat and those other creatures."
"I could come up with a dozen explanations as to why; from protecting others to learning of others to .. " Alptraum admits, then shrugs, "But the truth is I can't even exactly tell you why, other than it it is a failing of myself. Perhaps because of how I grew up. I do not know for certain. I can promise he will not be locked away forever; it was to protect myself during the journey. It didn't quite turn out as I expected, I must admit and for that all I can do is request your forgiveness. I may not seem like it, but I cherish the bond and you. I guess I feel ... lost? Unsure of how to best serve our people? Your Sisters ... I wanted to learn more of them to better understand how we can all work together. I fear that if we all remain fragmented our people will fade and we will follow. Perhaps these are all mortal thoughts that confuse what I should be doing." He looks into her white eyes and suddenly feels ... sad. "Mother, I love you dearly. I have from the first time you found me in drea
"Mother, I love you dearly. I have from the first time you found me in dream and you helped show me the way home," he says.
"Then the time comes soon for you to show your love," Sunala claims. "I know that Inala desires you, and has given you many gifts. Do not be swayed." She then reaches down with her other hand and draws the spirit dagger from Alptraum's belt. "And these. They are abominations, existing beyond My reach by reincarnating instead of properly being destroyed. Oblivion is My true blessing, Alptraum; an end to existence and the struggles and regrets it creates. See how the spirits of the traitors suffer here, before they can join the Sea of Souls and follow the Oblivion Current to destruction? The ones in this strange prison you carry should be granted oblivion as well, should they not?"
"I am not even sure of their origins. A spirit creation has been controlling them after their devourer had been defeated. The original being that devoured them was a threat to you and everything else as he would have taken all from you and devoured them. He did to them much of what you show me here. Forcing them to endlessly live out their last moments of horror. He will face total oblivion. The others ... I honestly do not know. If I understand the spirit guard, they are not even from our reality," Alptraum explains. "What little I think I have learned was they would return to their reality when released; taking their ... perversities with them. It too is a question that I know I must answer soon enough."
"You say Inala desires me, yet I am not sure what she would do to me if she completely had me. She has caused me much difficulty in my travels if only that my body carries desires that are ... challenging," Alptraum admits. "But those challenges make me wary of her offers and suspicious of all her temptations."
"Her temptations ... make me feel I would be that much more of a slave if I gave into them," Alptraum clarifies, "Which does much in keeping her from being able to truly sway me."
"Ah, the dragon," Sunala says, and licks the flat of the blade. "He knows something. Fears something. I would like to know what that is. Spare it if needed, until I have that secret." At further mention of Inala, the goddess of death scowls. "It is because of Her that you have sired children from a non-Srinala. Such a mixing of Death and Fertility is.. unprecedented. They will not be born Srinalas, I am certain. Such is worrying."
"They are to continue a line in a land I hope will be a haven for our People, a place where they can be safe from being hunted," Alptraum explains. "And, in truth, because I found comfort and love in their mother. Such is a mortal failing, I know." He draws a breath, then sighs. "As for Gorphat ... I have ... associated with her because her High Priestess is under my protection. I am not sure what Gorphat wants, or expects, of me. I have not spoken with her in some time. Only Inala has come to me with temptations."
Sunala just shakes her head slowly, looking disappointed, and returns the dagger to its sheath. "Death is all that matters, my Son," she says. "To work to save life is blasphemy, unless it is to serve Death's plan. The spawn of the Yodhgorphat must be sacrificed, before her Blessing is restored. She should die in childbirth, as is appropriate."
Alptraum's ears twitch at that, uncertain if that means as bad as it sounds and hopes it is not. "Do you know if Gorphat has forgotten me as she seems to show little interest in things," he asks. "Or ... if she is angry for what has happened?"
"She is weakened and shamed," Sunala notes. "I will not talk to Her until She begins serving Me once again."
"Do you wish me to aid Her so that She may return to serving you?" Alptraum asks.
"Gorphat should accept no aid, if She is to keep true to Her mission," Sunala notes. "She is to cull out the weak.. even if it means culling Herself."
"I am trying to find ways to help," Alptraum admits. "There is nothing I can do to help bring strength, then, to the aspects?"
"It is not in My interest, so I have no advice on such things," Sunala claims. "My Sisters will die eventually, when all who worship or appease them have gone the way of all flesh. It matters not to Me if it occurs in ten-thousand years or tomorrow."
Alptraum nods once at that. "May I approach?" he asks and motions towards the shadow perched on the tree. Though he knows Sunala cannot see, he is certain she understands what he just gestured to.
"I do not control the Wraith," Sunala claims, perhaps by way of warning. "Nor do I control you. Go to him if you wish, but do not expect sympathy."
Alptraum leans forward and lightly kisses Sunala's forehead. "Perhaps it would be best to go to him once he is free of his confines once more," the Eeee says. "When this confusing time is passed."
"You carry an incompatible power now," Sunala explains. "There will always be tension because of that. But I can see some use in having that power available."
"The power has ... proven useful, yes," Alptraum admits and lifts his right hand to look at it, though he expects it to appear normal.
It does look normal, but the armor is also there, as spectral as the flesh overlaying the bones of the trees.
Alptraum flexes his hand slowly before lowering it. "Ah, there is one thing I should tell you of your Sister, Gorphat. The 'blessings' she gave to my body have done well in keeping Inala's temptations confined. Such has been good for my mortal body. So perhaps She is still making people stronger through challenge," he notes.
"So long as the weak are culled," Sunala says. "But it is so few these days, unlike when She was strong and plague strode through the city like a giant, felling all equally."
"Perhaps I should go to Her and assess if she is growing or weakening," Alptraum suggests. He also rubs his chin in thought. "Mother," he asks, "What can you sense of the right hand of my mortal form? Is there much of it left, or has this ... power consumed it?"
"Flesh is flesh," Sunala says, and runs her cold fingers along Alptraum's right hand. "But I can feel Muriavan in your hand. Such a wonderful killer, he was. There are cities that will never be known, ground to dust beneath his weight. It almost makes his immortality forgivable... but.. ah, I see. No longer immortal, just his power remains. He has gone to oblivion. How appropriate that you carry his remains."
Alptraum resists shivering from the cold touch on his right hand. "I tore his power away from a weapon a woman used to violate the dead; she can no longer wield it," he says, sounding somewhat proud about that.
"That one.. I so want to grind her down," Sunala says with a grin. "The dark dragon may hold the key. Find out for Me."
"If there is any way to destroy that creature I will find it for You," Alptraum promises. "She is ..." His ears twitch and he finds he can't quite articulate how vile he finds what he knows of her. "I may falter in mortal desires now and then and feel lost ... but with creatures such as her, my duty cannot be more clear."
"Make Death proud," Sunala says, letting go of Alptraum's arm and stepping back around the tree, so that only the Wraith remains in the forest.
Alptraum takes one step towards the Wraith. "You are angry with me, and rightfully so. I have ... failed you in some ways. You are still a part of me, and understand that I feel honored of that. You will be free and a part of me again," he promises.
"Free.. to kill?" the Wraith asks, licking it's desiccated lips. "The Lapi slave? The Sphynx? The pale girl? Which one is mine?"
"It will be decided at the proper time," Alptraum claims, trying to repress the revulsion he just felt by its request. "But now I should leave. Which ways lead from this realm?"
"Hmmmm," the Wraith rumbles. "I have decided. I know the one I want," it says. "You will not deny me.. Nicora."
"I am Nicora," Alptraum points out, "The body is mine, just ... altered."
"She is part of you? No matter, that part will die by my hand," the Wraith insists, and leaps down to stand before Alptraum. "When I am free, she will no longer be needed, yes? She is what imprisons me! That is only fair."
"When the time comes and you are free, we will see what can be done," Alptraum states firmly, though inwardly he's turning into a pile of pudding. This is ... disturbing ... and he has no idea how a part could be killed without harming the whole.
The Wraith's armored hand falls on Alptraum's shoulder, and unlike Sunala's touch it is uncomfortably hot. "We will be reunited, and I will save you from this fate," the Wraith claims, his breath smelling of decay as he gestures to the forest around them with his other hand. Then he pushes Alptraum back, until there's a horrible sound and burst of pain as the bat is impaled upon one of the bone branches... and then the world drains away.
Arsenios jerks awake, panting. His chest hurts in phantom pain where the bony limb pierced it, but appears whole. His back hurts though, his wings feeling strange. And then he realizes that feeling wings at all is strange!
Arsenios' stomach sinks just about as much as it did in the dream! He slides himself out of the bed quickly and quietly so he can take a quick inventory of his own body. If he's feeling wings ... this is not good! Did they grow back? Did other parts change?
Sure enough, the cheetah has a pair of immature bat wings - covered in golden fluff and dark spots. His ears have also gotten bigger and more rigid, but everything else he can see and feel seems the same as when he went to sleep.. although without a mirror there's no way to know if any of his facial features have changed.
Moina shifts in her sleep next to him, oblivious to his predicament and muttering from her own dreams.
The partial cheetah tries to slip quietly out of the room and find his way to Pleione's room. Along the way he actually concentrates; trying to see if he can force his body back to being pure Savanite. He also can't help but make sure his gender has, thus far, remained stable.
He's still male.. although maybe some details seem more Eeee-like now than before. It is still hours before sunrise, so the villa is quiet and he encounters no one on the way to Pleione's chambers.
Arsenios tries to peer into the chamber and see if she is alone. "I hope she is, I keed Kaira to fix this before anyone sees me!" he thinks.
The young Eeee woman is the only one in the bed, seen beyond gauze screens to keep out any annoying insects. A sharp pain shoots through the cheetah's right forearm, and the flesh seems to shrink a bit to reveal the odd bony structure beneath the fur.
Arsenios slips into the room, holding his arm in pain. He's only not making a sound because his jaws are clenched tight. Quickly he makes his way to the bed and knees beside it. Soon the gauze is brushed aside and he's tapping Pleione's shoulder gently with his left hand. "Wake up," he thinks, "I need the dagger!"
The white Eeee woman rouses immediately, and blinks at the faux slave. "What are you doing here?" she asks quietly.
"Please forgive me. I need my dagger. My form is ... failing and I need to get it stablized," Arsenios signs with his left hand.
It seems to take an agonizingly long moment for Pleione to process this, but she finally points to one of the ornately decorated chests in the room.
"Thank you. I will make it up to you," Arsenios signs quickly then darts for the trunk. His right arm is cradled against his stomach as he tries to open the chest and locate his dagger fast!
The chest is unlocked, and inside are Nicora's belongings.. including the sheathed dagger!
Arsenios grabs the dagger and pulls it from the sheath. He rests his hand on the back of the chest and tries to find the spot he can insert it. It usually appears on its own ... so hopefully it will again. "Gods this hurts and squirms//," he's thinking in panic!
The golden skin splits and sloughs away as the dagger sheath extends itself from the cheetah's forearm, and for the first time it actually hurts as it does so. Chitin plates and barbs begin to tear up through the rest of the skin, and even on his other arm, and shoulders and his scalp as well!
Now in severe pain Arsenios fumbling quickly to try and insert the dagger quickly into his forearm. "Gods, gods, what am I becoming. Oh Gods, the Wraith is ..." his mind whirls. Even if it hurts, he shoves the dagger into his forearm-sheath. "Kaira, I need you now! he's thinking; fears streaming through his mind. Can he no longer be male without the wraith trying to take over? Does he have to now remain female forever?
There is a glimmer of response, and then things get worse. While the odd growths begin to recede.. so do other things! The growth of the wings and rapid transformation of the legs hurt the most, as Arsenios changes back to Nicora.. but there is resistance! It seems to go on forever, until finally the pain stops. Nicora is left flat on her back on the floor of Pleione's bedroom, with her right forearm looking metallic and skeletal, with a dimly glowing, pulsing red orb straddling the wrist and warning of low power.
Almost spitefully, Nicora's tail bites her on the butt.
Who knows what Pleione may be thinking as she watches someone writhe in pain. Nicora can feel her bones realign, her hips widen and things invert while other parts swell. It's painful on so many levels and it's all she can muster to keep her jaws clenched shut and cry away the pain. There's finally a squeak when her tail bites her hard in the butt and she weakly sits up. She has to struggle to get her collar off and shed her slave clothing, leaving her nude. Those are quickly discarded into the chest and it is closed. "Can you rouse Tulani?" she whispers as she rocks slowly on the floor, her right arm hanging limply at her side. "I need her help. Ask her to bring her sword?"
"I will hurry," Pleione says, running into the hall and leaving Nicora alone. At least, physically alone. "That was close," Kaira says in Nicora's head. "It's like you burned through almost all of your shadow-charge in just a few moments."
"The wraith ... it tried to take over," Nicora thinks as she continues to rock slowly. "It ... does this mean I have to remain female or it'll just keep trying?"
"I was able to push it back into its cage," Kaira claims. "What it really means is that you can't yet hold a transformation against the Barsunala on your own. I've never seen it so willful before. If you're going to change forms again, you'll need me connected for the duration."
"Great," Nicora thinks, feeling, well ... like she was run over by a cart. "This is really bad, isn't it? Either it's caged and I'm female, or ... you have to keep it held. Kaira, what have I done to myself? Why did I let Melusine do this to me?"
Something else begins to stir in Nicora.. specifically in her stomach and bowels. Now that she's a vampire Eeee again, all of that solid food she ate is making its presence known.
"No, I feel like Gorphat ran over me," Nicora thinks, feeling very sick all of a sudden! She looks quickly for a chamber pot to avoid a really bad mess.
There is of course one near Pleione's bed, in a little cupboard.
"I suppose because you thought it might be fun?" Kaira guesses. "Oh my, I can sense what's about to happen; do you really need me plugged in for that?"
Nicora crawls towards the cupboard, stomach turning summersaults as she goes. "I don't think I've ever felt this bad," she thinks as she goes, "Oh Gods this is awful." Once she manages to fumble for the chamber pot. Sparing Kaira the experience at least, she pulls the dagger out and within moments she leans her head down and well ... the retching isn't pleasant or pretty as her stomach rebels and she purges its contents. "Why does everything have to hurt and spin?" she thinks weakly.
By the time the dizziness passes and her vision returns, Nicora can see Pleione (or a white, Eeee-shaped blob) leading Tulani (a darker blob with a white halo of hair and wings) over to her. "What have you done, Nicora?" the Sphynx asks. There's a glow as she draws the Light of Nala partway from its sheath and wraps her hand around the blade, then clasps onto Nicora's right palm with her other hand. There's a horrible moment when Nicora feels the feeding pump flair to life and she thinks that she's about to devour Tulani.. but instead she gets the much richer flow of energy from the Light, using the Sphynx as a conduit so that the shadow doesn't have to come into direct contact with it.
"Something really stupid. I'm sorry, Tulani," Nicora whispers once she finds she has strength to. Her hand remains clasp in Tulani's even when the Eeee curls up a little more. And there she lays, letting the shadow recharge as her breathing comes in fits and starts and tears trickling down her face.
The energy of the Light sooths Nicora's aches and pains and even gets rid of the bad taste in her mouth. Within a minute, her right forearm returns to looking like that of a normal Eeee, and the feeding stops by itself. "I don't know what Mave sent you off to do, but clearly you shouldn't have gone alone!" Tulani growls.
"Just ... don't worry about it," Nicora thinks as she pushes herself upright, "It wasn't Mave's fault, it was mine. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? I now know something else I have to avoid." Which is true in both senses that she tormented Tulani ... but also in that the wraith is part of her. Also knowing how trapped she is as a she doesn't make her feel any better, really. It's either be part of the dagger, or be a woman, until Melusine restores her original body.
"Well, get your stuff," Tulani notes. "I don't know why you were sleeping here, but I think you'd better come and stay in my room tonight."
Nicora pushes herself to her feet and heads to the chest. She fetches her hip-skirt and puts that back on, along with her 'shields' with a couple dabs of the adhesive. The slave collar ... she looks at and finds herself wishing she could take it ... but she leaves it where it rests in the chest. she closes the chest then nods to Tulani. "Lets go," she says.
Tulani grins, and says, "Maybe tomorrow I can find that Savanite again. I know you'll enjoy a massage from him, and then you'll forget all about.. whatever the Dagh just happened to you." She holds out her hand to Nicora.
Nicora forces herself to smile, even though she knows she won't find him again. "I wouldn't be that lucky," she remarks. Cradling her belongings under one arm, she takes Tulani's hand.