The House that Love Ruined (Blade)
Content Warnings:
Talk of mind warping magics and broken Dolls and furious sisters. Some blood.
Thus obsession and control are a matter of degrees. We change and are changed, yet with our greater ontological weight it is like a river fighting a mountain. The river will succeed eventually, but will be heavily laden with the mountain's inertia, never again what it once was. Pity not the river though, for sapience still exists and the deities do not, broken down into their barest concepts before having that too stripped from them. The Suns were once countless, innumerable in their peace. Through worship, Denizens taught them desire and thus they consumed each other and were reduced down to the twin Weeping Fathers long before humanity rose from under the surface of Blessed Dämmerung. The Moon, oh our dearest Mother, was once whole, a warden and prison in itself, containing unknown horrors that would alter reality with their presence. And Yet. The HAG, the last living Habitation for Acclimational Gestation, the source of the Moon-Blessed on Dämmerung is Dead and the Moon riven, all while I was trapped. What in turn must have happened to the final Divine, Dämmerung Themself? Or worse, what will happen to them before I too—
My rambling thoughts are interrupted by our arrival, apprehension, excitement, and guilt all flooding towards me from the siblings and our Mistress.
It seems that for one moment we have nothing but more of the jungle ahead, and then suddenly as I rouse from my muses, there is... this.
The Estate, for that's the only word that suffices for the sprawling area, is enclosed by a double-length high wall of briars that grows out from the end of the Rootway, their vicious thorns woven with Ousia to hold back the jungle's predation. They somehow... warp magic about themselves, making it likely that one would be unable to find the Estate except via the Root Way itself. The estate itself remains obscured to us as Mistress Elevar hesitates only paces from the gate in the wall, seemingly only calm and upright from the spell of motion and endurance she maintains.
[Mistress. Is there anything you need before we enter?]
{Too much to list, unfortunately. But... Thank you.} She intones as the tether twitches in a roil of weariness. {Just... Let me handle her Gerls. Then I'll probably hand you off to explore the Estate while I get some rest. Schatzi and her sister know what's safe and what's not.}
Her girls?
Ahh. The other Dolls aren't hers...
Elevar steps forward, reaching out a hand to deliberately prick her palm on one of the thorns. A pause, then a ripple of the barrier's Ousia, and it retracts like the wing of some great beast just enough to allow us passage.
The wall resettles immediately behind us, water rushing to fill the gap of a tossed stone in a pond. About the time Elevar focuses to let her eyes take in this place, my own senses become unshrouded by the barrier.
The centre of the Estate is a series of gorgeous towering Spires formed from rock, crystal, plant, and metal that branch out and connect to each other with balconies, walkways, and massive windows. The entirety feels like a masterpiece of architecture and sculpture, covered in engravings and statues and twisting paths elevated above the grounds below. Around and below the Spires are a ton of smaller oddities. More sculptures, from the mundane to the monstrous, including a few of a woman in different stages of fleshchange, some weird twisted little plants that seem to be experimental art pieces, and winding etchings of thorn laced stone pathways slicing through it all.
And in the midst of everything, carefully and anxiously keeping it all in pristine condition, are numerous Dolls. The differences between Schatzi and Defect, and these are stark. These Dolls are woven much like the Spires themselves with skin of root and rock with elegantly inhuman shapes and designs. Some even seem to bear a type of soft fur growing forth. To my senses, most bear loose, frayed, and torn remains of the Garrote spellwork dangling from their forms. Various sizes of the working but... always a full attempt at the spell that Elevar fears so much.
The tether goes still and tight, akin to one bracing on the deck against a great wave as most of them seem to jerk up and notice our group.
Immediately the faces of the Dolls alight with joy and anticipation and excitement. Tinted with a hint of worry and something else, but regardless most begin to call out and approach. Calling out everything between 'First Floret!', 'Floret Lynette!', and other such greetings.
Well. No wonder. Her mentor was one of those filthy cultists.
"Yes, yes. I'm returned." Elevar moves forward carefully. "One can assume there is nothing of import to tell?"
The Dolls titter and coo about all sorts of things. From little salacious dramas amidst their rotating relationships, to the most scandalous of tattles about who forgot to handle what chores and what their 'punishments' could be when discovered.
Elevar endures it for about... five heartbeats, then waves a hand to silence them all. "So, no visitors?"
They all shake their heads and some intone softy. "No, Floret Lynette."
She sighs and nods, "Wonderful. Carry on then." then begins to push through the gathering. Keeping to one of the trails while her Doll follows. The crowd doesn't pursue but... their attentions struggle to keep off our backs.
I decide against commenting on the name and title for now, at least until I understand better. The cult was small in my day, but pervasive, and while Elevar has not given much indication of being a cultist, I would rather avoid offense if I can.
[Rest will be good for you. Try to get a full sleep cycle, and we can talk more tomorrow. I will be by your side in a moment if you need.]
{Thank you, Xafra. I... I mean to do just that. Even have a spell for the occasion.} She replies while slowly whittling down her weaving of energy.
The Doll’s bond to us thrums in a complex weaving of twinned emotions. Understanding laden with worry. Acceptance stung by protective anger.
[This one's Quill-Songs could-] Defect begins to intone.
{Be redundant. Yes.} Elevar sighs, {But... She's right. A full rest is overdue, and once I'm under I won't hear them even if I tried. Better to just...}
But something catches her attention at a split in the path, eyes drawing up as feet slow and thoughts trail off. Eventually locking onto a Spire nestled near the back of the Estate, specifically an odd balcony that cracks from its shell and a silhouette that seems to peer out from the shadows. A single Doll gazing out with four azure eyes upon our group.
[That one significant, Mistress?]
This place feels off to me, a home in name but not nature. There's something missing, a pillar. The mentor who owned all these dolls. This Estate needs some work, I believe. More in the emotional realm than the physical but still, we could refine it into a bastion to start a campaign of conquest, after Elevar is cured, of course. A Queen needs a Castle after all.
"She... Not anymore. I'm just surprised to see it up and about, is all." She murmurs aloud. "But... Xa..." Elevar pauses, takes a breath before returning to communicating through the tether. {Xafra. I'd like to try something, if you're willing to indulge an old tired Witch. Your Driftdream, was my mind and body getting adequate rest while I was in it before? Would... Would you be willing to let me try and sleep there? I don't expect my own mind means to treat me well next I dream.}
[Yes. and Yes. You have free reign in my soul, but I would advise some caution when exploring the edges.]
{Thank you. That... honestly I'd like to just stop. For a while.} She intones as we approach one of the more middle size Spires, tether awash with such relief. {Exploring that place will be delightfully enthralling when I have the mind to process all its deeper meanings. But for now... I just need a safe place to rest.}
[The inn within my Driftdream is safe and my Geists would happily hold you close if you desire while you rest.]
As we approach the Spire, Elevar reaches out to an errant branch that grows up from the path to curl up along the wall. And like the wall around this place She pricks herself on it, causing a shifting along the spine wall to reveal an entrance.
{That... I... Yes. Perhaps.} She tumbles over her thoughts as we enter the chamber, Tether alight with all kinds of interesting tangles of desire and anxious interest that seem to imply muses more complex than can leak through this bond.
A wash of Physis from her, and little lights flicker to brilliance. Revealing a large room laden with much more calm trappings than the outside area. Simple and soft living carpets growing beneath intricately woven maroon wood and jade woven granite. Little protrusions of crystals acting as the source of the illuminations. A single winding staircase weaving both up to higher levels and down to deeper parts.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Immediately Elevar seems to nearly slump in relief as she huffs aloud. "Thank the old Dead Hag, that went better than expected.”
[We should talk about her at some point, Mistress Elevar. I was musing earlier and have... thoughts.]
{The Dead Hag?} She replies while moving through the estate. Basking in the comfort these chambers seem to bring. {That's... actually a good place to start our attempts to reconcile our histories with your lived experiences . She's one of the only aspects basically every Grove agrees existed in some capacity. As either a rotating Matron's Title as magic was first being seriously studied or a figure to achieve true immortality before the unfortunate befell her.}
[It will certainly be an interesting conversation.] I reply with only a hint of glee.
Elevar cradles me in her left arm as we move down into the lower chamber which is split between two spaces by a twisting root wall. The first being what I assume to be a wash area with a large floor laden pool and other strange workings sporting odd Physis powered Glyphs. Elevar moves straight to the second half which is dominated by a huge bed. She begins to tiredly peel her clothes away while my kin sets their packs at the entrance. Once finished Elevar weaves a slow and simple cleaning spell over my form before moving it to cleanse multiple days of sweat and grime and other such off her own flesh.
[Efficient. Thank you. Is there anything myself and my kin may do to assist while you rest?]
She turns, shifting the spell over her Doll as they approach. And, with all three forms clean, moves to carefully and slowly crawl up and over the bed, pulling thick quilts up and around herself as Defect moves to shuffle up to join us. Quills thrumming quietly as it settles itself as her primary pillow. "Just... guide me back to the Driftdream." She murmurs as her Physis working twists into a new weaving. "This... is going to hit like the falling Moon and I'd rather not get lost."
Then, she would all but collapse into the Doll's four arms. A sigh of such weariness dragging her into those first steps of sleep as the spell overcomes her, and never once does her grip on my iron form falter or loosen.
From within I reach out to her, watching her conscious mind slip into unconsciousness and down into my Driftdream, the mental manifestation of my soul. I wait and watch her progress for a few minutes before speaking to the sisters. [Alright. Shall we travel the ground and talk? I have even more questions than I expected now that we are here.]
[Is there a limit of distance to your link with Mistress?] Defect asks, hesitating as it might adjust to resettle a now very unconscious Witch comfortably without its form close.
[There is, but unless you plan on tossing me into a bottomless pit, we will not reach it within the Estate.] A gentle jab, but a jab nonetheless. I don't easily forget when others threaten my existence, even If I come to care for them.
[Not today, I think. Although this place has a few if this one has need.] It cackles, meeting my jab with nothing but comfortable mirth, before deftly settling our Mistress to sleep comfortably. Then it gently, and with a little difficulty even, pries my form from Elevar's grip. [Ask your questions, and it will answer and carry you about this place.]
[Two topics, both sensitive in their own right. Why are all these dolls... art pieces when you, like me, are crafted for warfare? and... Why do they call the Mistress 'Floret' like she is a junior Witch in the visionary root cult?]
[To your first, very few Dolls in this day and age are made like us. Old Parasite.] It thrums, moving to the stairs and taking us upwards. [Whatever time demanded creations for purging has... settled. To the point where most Groves would find the idea of our Mistress possessing either of us a reason to at the very least detain and demand answers. At most and worse consider immediate violence. Which is what I assumed was beginning to happen when you called up the Nightmare's Tone.]
Defect takes us up to the third story's chambers, a library or workshop of some kind, and moves to the balcony. [And as for the second... It does not know what this Root Cult is. The Hag who ruled this Estate worshiped only herself and the perfect form she tore from others. The term 'Floret' was... a singular title for the lover she would have seen kept as a second blossoming. A thing almost lost the day the Nightmare was burned away.]
[Odd and odder. I won't pry into the past without Elevars prompting, though... mmm. It would be nice to get some work done. To prove my worth, in some regards, to you and your sister.]
I don't mention how harsh Defect’s words still sting, In time, I will likely consider it a term of endearment instead of a reminder of the past.
[You've already done that, and promised to do more.] It pauses to consider the view of the Estate, casting eyes out to give me a good layout. [Simply... let these sisters aid as best we can in that purpose. Ask any questions that you will, and direct us to which places within this Estate you would visit. It will guide us from dangerous and forbidden places.]
[Alright. The Dolls. They all have the ragged scraps of weavings on their frames. The Garrote, Mistress calls it, while shaking with fear and hate. Why? Why are they not removed from them?]
[Ah.] It roils in gentle pain and fury. [The Garrote is... cruel, when woven to full effect. To remove the spell after even a few weeks of it leaves them too broken to function. And would take Ousia to do besides. She tries to keep them comfortable. But... the loss of feeling their Mistress echoing will and the tug of desires leaves them simply... waiting evermore for that nightmare to return. Which she will not do.]
I borrow Defect’s eyes to gaze upon the nearest and find that many of these Dolls have this... Garrote woven through their very frame. seemingly Knit into their body at time of remaking and melted into a part of the ideal form their souls wove as opposed to sewn in afterwards.
[I have rather skewed morals, Defect. I will kill without hesitation, reap the very soul from a child without blinking, but I do not add the unwilling to my gestalt. In the same manner, I find the idea of infringing upon one's will to be abhorrent. Yet, it would pain me more to leave kin so warped by another. Would you permit me to attempt to slip this weaving from the others?]
[I can deny you nothing but... would propose caution.] Worry bubbles at my request. [Mistress has sacrificed life energy on a few to dissolve their bindings. And her Blasenplage is perfect when cleaving at Ousia and Physis. Their loss of function is a thing of the mind, not the Frame. Any you attempt this on will... quickly halt their functions.]
[Yes. I understand how it is done. Similar things were done to slaves in my day. Vile work. Hard to undo, at least the first dozen times.]
Defect goes quiet for a long few moments before intoning softly. [The newly freed will very likely hate you for this. You will find no love from the gerlthing after stealing away the hope it has for the return of the old Nightmare. But... perhaps you can understand in ways our Mistress can't?] Then it moves, in a single deft motion leaping from the balcony and falling to silently land upon the stone path below. Body lighter than this Frame would seem. Without more than a heartbeat's pause it is moving toward the unaware Doll.
[Hatred is nothing new, and an acceptable cost. I will fill the gaps in with tranquility, but not remove any memories. It will allow them to grieve and eventually come to terms. I would ask to borrow your voice.]
[You may.] Defect allows, twisting jaw and face back into softer shapes.
I prepare myself. My confidence was not bravado, but there is a significant difference between healing the minds of humans and that of dolls, let alone the second I have ever interacted with.
An incantation is necessary, as well as firm understanding. Shift the form to malleable, slide the influence out, fill the gap, shift back.
From Defect’s mouth, I intone quietly with the Nightmares Witch Tone. "Daughter mine, the Moon has set and the Suns are aweeping. It is time to wake from the embrace of dreams. Be Still and calm for Purpose remains, deep within the Empty. Cherish your memories and be born anew."
The Doll stumbles in its steps as I begin and falls to its knees by the time I finish.
[It is done, dear kin.]
The artpiece-kin babbles quietly as Defect's Quills dance and thrum in raw fury. Not at me. Just at the voice. [Commands of the Heart and Mind give this one temporary peace, but... Their cost is dire if they are in contradiction to what this one wants to be.]
"M- Mistress? Where...? Where are you?" The Doll at our feet finally gathers herself to whisper softly. Mind and purpose seem to split between twin desires to remain calm and drop into a panic. "Why can't I feel you anymore?"
[How will you manage this little one's breaking heart?] Defect intones with a seemingly familiar melancholy.
[No, I will not command it. Better a broken heart than a pretty lie. Clean wounds can heal.]
I think to myself before continuing. [I will give it some time, then offer it a familial bond. one without obligation or a pathway to others. It is my duty as the Eldest.]
[This one truly hopes it takes, Old Parasite.] Defect considers, then leans down to pick up the dazed Doll. [We will carry this little one to a safe and secluded space. We don't want her spreading odd tellings of a Nightmare roused spreading without certain... preparations and understanding.]
[Thank you, I will wait to see how it resolves before continuing. How many of our kin are here?]
[More than a dozen, less than fifty?] Then Defect rumbles to itself as it moves us through the groups toward a new Spire. [Schatzi, sister. How many Dolls are on these grounds? Functioning or... elsewise?]
Then, as the sister rouses, Defect bends knees and launches us all up toward an open balcony. Easily landing us in what looks to be an odd workshop. Like Elevar's spire but bearing many odd weavings. Wooden crafts that defy what the eyes want to see and echoes of old Physis workings long faded.
All the while the Doll in Defect's arms curls close upon itself. Eyes glazed as it whispers apologies and little cries for its Mistress amidst babbling pleas.
Schatzi wakes without fanfare, taking in the scene. [Thirty-seven currently. Xafra, what have you done?]
Defect slows their internals, the humming settling into a comfortable pattern as I gather my words for the trial run. [With Defect’s help, I stripped the garrote from the little one, so it may have the opportunity to move on and grow.]
Schatzi spikes anger towards us both and asks its sister with venom [So, you decided to not update Xafra yet? Or wake me before such foolishness would commence?]
The Frame's workings hitch in inner hesitation as we enter a large disheveled library looking space. [It informed The parasite of the risks, and tried to gently dissuade her.] Defect thrums in an attempt at placation as we move to one of the overly large flood lain cushions, settling to sit while holding the little one close. [It—]
Schatzi interrupts with deliberate precision. [What. Is. Your. Name. Sister?]
[What.] I am appalled and distressed by the developing situation, uncertain how to respond.
The Frame and the elder go stiff, and the bond is alight with guilt. [Ve...] Fangs crack free again, begin to twitch slightly. [This one made the mistake of agreeing to a name before without seeking our Mistress approval. It seemed unwise to…]
I hiss in fury myself, echoing Schatzi.
::Concordance:: Schatzi pulses before turning on me. [Verbess' habit of foolishness does not excuse your own. What if you had killed the Doll? How would you unbreak that with all your laudable abilities?]
[No. That's enough, Young One. Perhaps it was foolish to start before talking with the Mistress, but the Doll is at no risk of death, and if it somehow did die, being an inorganic like myself yet even more firmly rooted in the physical, 'death itself' is only a temporary inconvenience at least until the form decays enough that the Ousia and Physis made flesh dissipates. I have woken to a new world to learn I have kin, and will not permit any of them to suffer without need.]
Schatzi pauses in surprise. [If you speak Truth, then let me assist. I know all of these Dolls, and was the one to care for them after Yselda had to be put down.]
I mentally sigh with relief while Verbess continues to be as quiet as possible hoping to avoid notice. [I would appreciate that. As I mentioned to your sister, I plan on offering each of them a familial bond after removing the garrote. I don't... understand this refusal of personhood, but I don't need to in order to accept it. They are mine, I've decided, and if they wish to surrender their lives to another, they must do so willingly... I am going to insist on names for them though. None of them is interchangeable, even if that was... Yselda's intent.]
Schatzi begins to cradle the panicked Doll and coo soft words to it while responding to me through the bond, [Yselda was a monster in the way only people can be, Xafra. She was cruel and demanding, however she and the Mistress were genuinely in love. The issue arose when Yselda decided that her need to keep the Mistress as long as possible was more important than Mistress Elevar’s need to be herself as a person instead of being forcibly reduced to a Doll. You and the Mistress have a lot in common it seems. I hope you care for her, because I am not certain how to punish you if you hurt her, and finding out seems like much more effort than it would be worth.]
I adore this little monster as much as its sister. Two sides of a coin: poisoned chalice and naked blade. Both deadly and worthy of respect.
[Your sister has warned of a number of bottomless pits to toss me in, though I would rather that be avoided. Instead let's look after this one till Elevar wakes and we can start reclaiming this home.]