my lucifer is lonely. [Lyra]

[Euripides]

It was the grinding that caught her attention. She didn’t mean for the connection to be made, but her mind had always been a traitorous thing. The grind of bones as they were crunched and slurped. The grind of weapons as they slid through armor as someone turned another and they were forced to fight together. She had not been of much help, then; the axe had been too heavy in her hands. She blinked, lifted her head as Lyra came closer.

She was presented with a tea and her first instinct might have been to recoil from the smell alone. But that didn’t bother her so much. It was familiar, the stench of rot that clung to the tea. The first sip warmed her, though her tongue gave her no thanks as the taste set in. Her expression soured, and she almost laughed. That she could still be so concerned with something trivial as the taste of tea. But her energy, whatever little she had had, was gone. Depleted by relief and exhaustion.

Pretender. She called the wraiths pretenders, but what were they pretending to be? But — free her? From the wraith? The only means she knew of it being done had been to give it to someone else. That hadn’t gone well. It had very not well. She shuddered at the memory of Matthias and Isabel and the bodies that had come with the swing of his axe. The singing voices of terror and surprise as the blade danced and galloped into and over them. The strings of dying breaths and silent tears. She sighed, closed her eyes as she took another sip of her tea.

Yes, she wanted to be free of the wraith, but was it really a wraith? Or was Jieun, manifested fully within her. She blinked, looked up at the woman. “Who is the pretender? Jieun is no pretender. She — she’s been with me for so long.” She couldn’t lose her, not again. Not like this. Not to anyone. Maybe one day she would leave her behind. But, as she turned her attention to the ghost of the girl, just beyond Lyra’s shoulder. Her lips spread in a smile, small and sure. “Don’t take Jieun from me.”

But that was odd. Her voice sounded slurred in her own ears. The world was tilting, turning. She swallowed, reached for the tea again to take another sip. No sooner had the cup reached her lips did the world spin faster. Her gaze shifted over to Lyra. “What’s happening?”

[Lyra]

The other concoction was nearing completion, and Lyra looked back to her bench as its bubbling turned into a simmer. From a drawer Lyra produced a pouch with white, chalk like powder which she sprinkled into the jar before closing the lid and and shaking the entire mixture before returning it to its sigil to continue to simmer.

"The creatures, the wraiths from the Warrens, are like weak echo's of the old whispers." Lyra said softly, her tone derisive as she turned back to Euri who sipped on her tea. Lyra watched her as she drank, smiling as she continued, "They seep into the week minded and sow seeds of corruption into the soul, causing fear, anger, despair... But they are like an imitation of their betters."

Raising a hand Lyra wiggled her fingers, thin strands of black smoke flowing out from her palm and winding up into the air. Golden eyes followed those tendrils a moment before looking back at the girl who seemed to be feeling some of the effects of the sedatives.

You drugged her? Naila asked, her tone slightly impressed.

It is a mild sedative. Enough to put her to sleep. Lyra came closer to Euri then, leaning down to study the girl's eyes as the drugs began taking affect.

Why?

As Euri went to take another sip Lyra would gently nudge the bottom of the cup up, forcing more of the liquid into her mouth as her whispers flowed out and tried to enter the girl once more. Lyra pressed down and muted the notes of suspicion as they arose, bringing to surface a forced sense of calm and unconcern that began the dominant melody in Euri's symphony.

The wraith is deep inside, and a slow purge will likely kill the girl. So I shall have to cut it out root and stem where it has latched itself around her soul. It would be best if she were not awake. I care not for the screams.

To Euri Lyra said simply, "You will sleep for a time. When you awaken you will feel better. Worry not, for I have prepared a place for your friend." Her smile widened, for she indeed had the perfect place for the wraith in question.

[Euripides]

When was the last time she had felt so...light? Unbothered? She didn’t know. The feeling was locked in a memory either too distant or too happy for her to remember it in the moment. But, as her limbs felt heavy and everything started going dark, that was what she felt. Unbothered, calm. Lyra, truly, wouldn’t have needed to do this. She probably would have done whatever it was that Lyra required of her without any sort of protest.

More of the tea was forced into her mouth, down her throat. She didn’t mind the taste so much. The countertop was cool beneath her fingers, against her cheek as she laid her head down on the table. Sleep, she was told. Sleep. Sleep had been a fleeting thing when she was with the legion, even less likely when she had made her way out. She would close her eyes for a short time and the memories of the events — the crunch of bone, the thud of bodies, the brilliant sprays of red — would replay behind her eyelids.

For a moment, she feared that it would happen again as they slid shut. Too heavy to hold open, but all too easy to let fall. Her hand slid out before her, looping with Jieun’s. A hand came to caress her cheek, pat her head before it slid down to her back to usher her further into her nightmares.

You should sleep. Yes, she would.

You’re just so tired. Yes, she was. So, so tired.

And so she tipped over into consciousness, breath still raspy as she drew it in, but further struggle to remain awake. Not with the promise that a place would be made for Jieun. And that they would be together again.

[Lyra]

As the woman began to succumb to the concoction Lyra's hand would snap forward, forcing the girl's mouth open and depositing a small, slightly glowing stone onto her tongue before more liquid was poured down her throat. When she was certain the soul totem had been swallowed Lyra would stand, letting the girl continue on into unconsciousness.

A bit harsh wasn't it? Naila asked, observing with great interest as Lyra picked up the now lip body of Euri and carried her through another door into a room with white walls. It was a room she was intimately familiar with, as it was where she and Lyra had forged their own pact.

Lyra would lay Euri down on a stone bed covered in glyphs, which responded to the soul totem in her stomach, coming to life with a flare of power that spread out to a circle that surrounded the entire stone slab.

"It is necessary." Lyra said simply as she began undressing the woman. Each piece of clothing, once removed, was cast aside with a look of disgust. Those would be burned later.

"The wraith is deep inside, and has woven itself into her very core. Its fingers dip into her very life force, and the visions she sees are simply a symptom of something worse that will come." Once the girl was fully disrobed Lyra would leave her to collect the now bubbling mixture from where it still sat on the workbench in the other room. When she returned Lyra unceremoniously began to pour the substance over the girl's body, with the majority going onto her chest and abdomen.

What's to come? The mercenary asked curiously as Lyra began massaging the substance into Euri's skin. It was a viscous salve made from the root of an old tree local to Kalzasi. It numbed areas where it was applied, but it was mixed with more of Lyra's ichor. The ichor ensured the salve was quickly absorbed into the skin, but in addition to the numbing it also acted as a primer for what was to come. The pictographs on the stone slab's surface responded, and a faint white mist began to emanate from Euri's body as Lyra stepped away and disrobed herself.

"How do you suppose Wraiths are made?" Lyra asked as she downed a new pair of white robes. They were long, reaching to the floor, and there were several dark stains at the hems and waisted. Lyra tied up the sleeves, rolling them back before she filled a basin with water and began to wash her hands.

"These creatures were not common in the age I am from, but by their nature it is obvious. They are born from the negative emotions of mortals, and propagate by spreading those corrupting influences into the souls of those they touch." While she spoke she made other preparations. She removed her bon stylus and supply of blood ink from the shelf near the door, collected tools that she placed on a tray that was inscribed with pictographs to sterilize them, and finally brought down a small box which she set at the foot of the table.

"This one has been slowly influencing the girl over the course of... perhaps seasons. Prolonged exposure has caused her soul itself to corrode, affecting her mind as well as her body. Normal extractions will not work, because to this child she and the wraith are one being."

Alright... So what do you have to do then?

From the tray Lyra picked up her bone stylus, dipping its sharp edge into the dark red ink before quickly and steadily inscribing a series of pictographs along the woman's chest, down to her abdomen, and finally up her spine. The pictographs were woven into commands of servitude, obedience, and absolute compliance. As she finished each one the ink was quickly absorbed and became a faint tatoo on the woman's skin.

"I will have to bind her to me." She said, taking the small box and opening its lid. Inside there was a dark red liquid, which Lyra plunged her hand into before pulling out a dripping knife. Inside Naila whistled as Lyra flicked the droplets of blood from its rune inscribed tip before positioning it directly over the girl's heart. In one swift motion Lyra plunged the dagger down, the blade easily passing through flesh and bone to piece the heart underneath. Euri's body would twitch, spasming for a moment before settling down once more as the runes took hold once again.

"With the process of binding in place, I can subject not just her, but the thing that is attached to her, to my will and remove it." Lyra washed her hands, moving to one of the shelves where she began pulling down materials. Ichor, several herbs, and a few dark colored gems. These she mixed into a large triangular vial that she left sitting on a pedestal while she returned to Euri. It would take time, but soon she would drag the pretender out of its hiding spot and trap it where it belongs.

Hours later the mist the girl gave off grew in intensity, and with a smile Lyra picked up a blade from the tray, inscribed with runes that gave off a matching ghostly white mist, before creating a small slit between two of the girl's ribs, just beneath her left breast. Using the bone stylus on herself this time Lyra placed runes of capture and binding, which sank into her skin before she rubbed more ichor over her bare fingers and arm. Then with one swift motion she would jab the fingers into the girl's side, reaching up until she could feel something squirming just out of reach. With a breath a dark smoke spilled out of her lips, slipping down her arm and into the would where it wound the presence tight and pulled it toward Lyra's waiting grip. With a final triumphant smirk Lyra would yank her fingers back, dark blood flowing out followed quickly by smoke and a sickly greenish substance that screamed with enough force to rattle the glass on the shelves. With one hand Lyra smashed the jar on the pedestal on the stone of the table, snatching one of the gems carved with pictographs up before shoving it into the writhing mass of green malevolence. At first the wraith tried to resist, but with pure contempt Lyra shattered its melodies and used her own ethereal tendrils to drag it down into the gem which drank it in like a man dying of thirst. In the span of a few seconds the wraith was gone, and Lyra held in her hand a faintly green glowing soul gem that held a new trapped soul.

*****

Hours later Lyra sat at her desk in the room where Euri had first been, quietly taking notes as she rolled the green gem around with one finger. After the procedure Lyra had removed the dagger, the soul binding process complete and the wound healing on its own. Lyra had taken advantage of this, as she closed the wound under Euri's breast as well, after applying balm to promote healing and reduce the scar, and as the dagger was removed that wound was sealed up as well. There would be a small scar there, but nothing more. Lyra was no healer, but even she felt a sense of pride at how well the procedure had gone.

Euri would find a new change of clothes waiting for her. The clothing would be of good quality, simple pants and shirt, and any belongings she had that were not clothing would be at the foot of the table she lay on.

[Lyra]

As the woman began to succumb to the concoction Lyra's hand would snap forward, forcing the girl's mouth open and depositing a small, slightly glowing stone onto her tongue before more liquid was poured down her throat. When she was certain the soul totem had been swallowed Lyra would stand, letting the girl continue on into unconsciousness.

A bit harsh wasn't it? Naila asked, observing with great interest as Lyra picked up the now lip body of Euri and carried her through another door into a room with white walls. It was a room she was intimately familiar with, as it was where she and Lyra had forged their own pact.

Lyra would lay Euri down on a stone bed covered in glyphs, which responded to the soul totem in her stomach, coming to life with a flare of power that spread out to a circle that surrounded the entire stone slab.

"It is necessary." Lyra said simply as she began undressing the woman. Each piece of clothing, once removed, was cast aside with a look of disgust. Those would be burned later.

"The wraith is deep inside, and has woven itself into her very core. Its fingers dip into her very life force, and the visions she sees are simply a symptom of something worse that will come." Once the girl was fully disrobed Lyra would leave her to collect the now bubbling mixture from where it still sat on the workbench in the other room. When she returned Lyra unceremoniously began to pour the substance over the girl's body, with the majority going onto her chest and abdomen.

What's to come? The mercenary asked curiously as Lyra began massaging the substance into Euri's skin. It was a viscous salve made from the root of an old tree local to Kalzasi. It numbed areas where it was applied, but it was mixed with more of Lyra's ichor. The ichor ensured the salve was quickly absorbed into the skin, but in addition to the numbing it also acted as a primer for what was to come. The pictographs on the stone slab's surface responded, and a faint white mist began to emanate from Euri's body as Lyra stepped away and disrobed herself.

"How do you suppose Wraiths are made?" Lyra asked as she downed a new pair of white robes. They were long, reaching to the floor, and there were several dark stains at the hems and waisted. Lyra tied up the sleeves, rolling them back before she filled a basin with water and began to wash her hands.

"These creatures were not common in the age I am from, but by their nature it is obvious. They are born from the negative emotions of mortals, and propagate by spreading those corrupting influences into the souls of those they touch." While she spoke she made other preparations. She removed her bon stylus and supply of blood ink from the shelf near the door, collected tools that she placed on a tray that was inscribed with pictographs to sterilize them, and finally brought down a small box which she set at the foot of the table.

"This one has been slowly influencing the girl over the course of... perhaps seasons. Prolonged exposure has caused her soul itself to corrode, affecting her mind as well as her body. Normal extractions will not work, because to this child she and the wraith are one being."

Alright... So what do you have to do then?

From the tray Lyra picked up her bone stylus, dipping its sharp edge into the dark red ink before quickly and steadily inscribing a series of pictographs along the woman's chest, down to her abdomen, and finally up her spine. The pictographs were woven into commands of servitude, obedience, and absolute compliance. As she finished each one the ink was quickly absorbed and became a faint tatoo on the woman's skin.

"I will have to bind her to me." She said, taking the small box and opening its lid. Inside there was a dark red liquid, which Lyra plunged her hand into before pulling out a dripping knife. Inside Naila whistled as Lyra flicked the droplets of blood from its rune inscribed tip before positioning it directly over the girl's heart. In one swift motion Lyra plunged the dagger down, the blade easily passing through flesh and bone to piece the heart underneath. Euri's body would twitch, spasming for a moment before settling down once more as the runes took hold once again.

"With the process of binding in place, I can subject not just her, but the thing that is attached to her, to my will and remove it." Lyra washed her hands, moving to one of the shelves where she began pulling down materials. Ichor, several herbs, and a few dark colored gems. These she mixed into a large triangular vial that she left sitting on a pedestal while she returned to Euri. It would take time, but soon she would drag the pretender out of its hiding spot and trap it where it belongs.

Hours later the mist the girl gave off grew in intensity, and with a smile Lyra picked up a blade from the tray, inscribed with runes that gave off a matching ghostly white mist, before creating a small slit between two of the girl's ribs, just beneath her left breast. Using the bone stylus on herself this time Lyra placed runes of capture and binding, which sank into her skin before she rubbed more ichor over her bare fingers and arm. Then with one swift motion she would jab the fingers into the girl's side, reaching up until she could feel something squirming just out of reach. With a breath a dark smoke spilled out of her lips, slipping down her arm and into the would where it wound the presence tight and pulled it toward Lyra's waiting grip. With a final triumphant smirk Lyra would yank her fingers back, dark blood flowing out followed quickly by smoke and a sickly greenish substance that screamed with enough force to rattle the glass on the shelves. With one hand Lyra smashed the jar on the pedestal on the stone of the table, snatching one of the gems carved with pictographs up before shoving it into the writhing mass of green malevolence. At first the wraith tried to resist, but with pure contempt Lyra shattered its melodies and used her own ethereal tendrils to drag it down into the gem which drank it in like a man dying of thirst. In the span of a few seconds the wraith was gone, and Lyra held in her hand a faintly green glowing soul gem that held a new trapped soul.

*****

Hours later Lyra sat at her desk in the room where Euri had first been, quietly taking notes as she rolled the green gem around with one finger. After the procedure Lyra had removed the dagger, the soul binding process complete and the wound healing on its own. Lyra had taken advantage of this, as she closed the wound under Euri's breast as well, after applying balm to promote healing and reduce the scar, and as the dagger was removed that wound was sealed up as well. There would be a small scar there, but nothing more. Lyra was no healer, but even she felt a sense of pride at how well the procedure had gone.

Euri would find a new change of clothes waiting for her. The clothing would be of good quality, simple pants and shirt, and any belongings she had that were not clothing would be at the foot of the table she lay on.

[Euripides]

For hours, she floated in a space of unconsciousness that she knew all too well. A spring of memories both true and distorted that afforded her no peace. No calm that would have stricken her into a complacency the way she’d been forced into it before. The warmth of Jieun’s fingers in hers, as she recalled the idle days they’d spent together, faded into the cold of her body as the sky guard descended upon her. A filtering past of memories and thoughts — things she’d both forgotten and remembered. They settled on a hazy Glade day when the nerve had struck the two of them. When they ventured toward the maw of the Middens with the courage of two not alone. It had been a stupid thing, really. Kiss drunk and complacent in the sunlight of the season, they wanted some form of adventure. And what they had been met with was a tense moment of staring into the darkness before they reconsidered and fled to elsewhere with their heartbeats pulsing the vestiges of fear through their veins. Beyond Hahseu was the Warrens and beyond that was nothing more than certain death.

But that was not how this went. No, she continued to stare into the yawning mouth of Hahseu’s entrance, stuck there by the force of memories she would have, would know. Her grip on Jieun’s hand tightened, though the girl didn’t complain. Not at first. Then —

“Maybe we should head back.”

Yeah, this was how it went. A ringing in her ears started up before she turned to Jieun, a smile on her lips. Jieun’s own answering smile spread wide, so wide. Too wide. A mouth full of teeth too perfectly aligned — where was her little snaggletooth? — and far too big. There was a strain on the skin of her cheeks as her lips kept going. And yet, she could feel nothing, not even as the other stepped forward with a mouth open to devour her.

And that was how she awoke. Though, not truly. She was still floating, but a voice filtered through the darkness. Touches to her skin. Things breaking. The world around her was filled with sound, but she could not rightly place where she was and her first instinct was to panic. Panic, she must, because her life depended on it. But she could not move. No thought or scream to lift a finger would get them to do so. Not even a twitch.

She was forced still even as a hand slid into her side. As it slipped past the fold of her skin and between her ribs. She felt sick. Was this what it was like when they talked about the rats? The ones that would chew through weakened armor and through flesh, to burrow further inside and make a meal of your innards. Present, there; sitting inside of her like it was nothing. She was partly thankful that her eyes would not open. She could think of what she would do if she could see what were going on.

But she knew it was not…right, just as much as it was not wrong.

It existed in a nebulous space — and thought stopped there as something tugged and pulled deep within her. Fought as it clawed for leverage only to be whisked away. She did not stay awake for much longer.


She found that, finally, she could open her eyes this time around. It was quiet, and she could only assume that whatever had happened before was a dream. It had to be, right? But she was naked, and cold. And while she could not see it — she could feel the sliver of a scar. The phantom reach of a hand inside her. She shuddered, dressed in the clothes placed within her reach. She nearly sobbed at how soft the fabric was. So different from the raggedy remnants of what she’d had before.
Less of a struggle this time, she climbed the stairs with a mind full of cotton and the sinking suspicion that she should have been more cautious and that something was missing. At least, for the moment.