@fetzen@13org@Jerkchicken@HokumPocus@Typical@Elevation
Svephraey sat in a meditative state, alone on the floor to one of the smaller chambers provided to her by The Kharu-Natjer. A lone crystal jade candle illuminated her form from above. Its light a minor distraction in her calm focus.
She had been like this now... for how long? Minutes? An Hour? Maybe longer? Time lost all meaning in this state. Her mind focused. Her body unmoving save for a slight twitch of a finger here and there.
Svephraey frowned as a tickle of pain ran across her neck. She twitched a finger, its movement creating a soft twang. Svephraey could now see green again. To her side, a thin near invisible hair like thread fell away from her scalp and onto the ground. To the common eye, it appeared as a strand of grey hair. Yet those who knew what she could do would know better.
She had been too slow in releasing that one. Yes... that was a bead of blood dripping down her neck. Pity... She had liked this sweater...
Svephraey breathed in, glad that she was currently unable to smell the cold, damp odor she had begun to associate with Shimmer Town’s underground network. She cared not the means of how The Kharu-Natjer came to know of it. She cared not how he found it or even how he managed to scrounge up the coin to procure its many entrances. No… The Kharu-Natjer was one she cared not to question. He was a resource. A resource that paid in plenty. One who had empowered her to break the chains bound to her mind at birth, and help her climb her way to the top of the land's... shadier businesses.
When the The Kharu-Natjer told her about Shimmer Town’s underground tunnels, Svephraey had seen nothing but possibilities. For years these chambers had gone mostly unnoticed by the population above! That alone was showed promise! Sure, there had been a few who had stumbled their way into one of the many hidden entrances. Though most had coughed it up as nothing more than an abandoned cellar, for many entrances lead to nothing more than a small chamber with fake walls hidden away in the stone.
Those that had stumbled across the other entrances, the kind their guests from earlier entered from, had been wise enough to leave these dark passages alone and forgotten. Although, judging from the few corpses they found littering the tunnels, there may have been a few who wandered in. The pups appeared to have gotten lost in the maze of darkness. Alone and forgotten, they either starved to death or died from the cold. Such is often the price of foolishness.
The network itself was quite intricate. Its corridors snaked in all directions -up, down, left and right- forming an intricate labyrinth centering on larger hub chambers. These chambers, in turn, wrapped around an even larger chamber. One that even had access to an underground lake. It's waters apt for drinking.
The larger chambers had been fitted with many tiny ventilation tunnels that lead up to the surface. This allowed for the use of fires to keep warm. The remainder of the labyrinth, however, had scarce ventilation, giving it a cold, stale smell. It was one of the tunnels less stellar features, especially since it made lighting the labyrinth a nightmare!
Light by torch was an impossibility. Doing such would lead to smoke accumulating in the chambers with nowhere to go. Crystal jade candles were the obvious solution. A solution requiring an commodity that was not only expensive, but scarce as well. This meant that until they came into the possession of more crystal jade, much of the network would remain in darkness.
The crystal jade candles they did have were placed strategically throughout the labyrinth. Much of it had gone to the larger chambers. The Kharu-Natjer emphasized the importance of keeping large areas blanketed in light so as to keep the spacious area’s existence hidden from the Sightless above.
The remaining, larger candles went towards other strategic points, such as at the labyrinth’s entrances, or in many of the commonly used corridors. A few even lay in some of the network’s smaller chambers occupied by The Kharu-Natjer slaves and guests.
This left very little crystal jade candles available for the less frequently traversed tunnels. These last few candles were left at the entrances of such passages when possible. Such passages had at least two of The Kharu-Natjer slaves standing by at all times. When one needed to traverse said tunnels, they would do so with one of the slaves. Candle in hand, the slave would act as a guide. Lighting the way through the darkness.
Performing her tasks basked in light had been an odd experience for Svephraey. Much of her work was often done under cover of shadow. For as long as she could remember, the darkness had been her friend. An ally who shielded her from prying eyes. What was it to her now though? What would it mean for her to live in a world where she couldn’t trust the dark to shade her from unwanted attention?
Imagine carrying out theft, trafficking, assassinations and kidnappings during the day! True, her abilities would mitigate any impact on her specifically. Her organization's criminal activities, however... Well... such restrictions would surely ruin them. It was a concern for later. A concern that needed to not be addressed should the cult’s spread be throttled.
Yes… For now her only concern was to help The Kharu-Natjer put an end to this Seed of Insight. Once it was gone, she could go back to was she did best. The thing Svephraey was known for.
The Marionetteer. That was what they called her. A name whispered in the shadows. A name the little pups feared. A fitting name, she supposed, even if it was truly just a mishmash of words. It worked just as well as the name Svephraey... and every other name she used.
Another twitch of the finger follow by a twang. A second strand of grey hairlike thread fell away to her side. This time she had been fast enough to cut away the connection before absorbing the killing blow received by the body on the other end. Unfortunately, this meant she could now smell the tunnel’s odor, yet again. Such a bother...
Yes… The name Marionetteer suited her quite well. A faceless puppeteer, hidden in shadows. The world was her stage. Her puppets? The once slain.
A few more twangs followed. Hunger, warmth, the taste of sweet. These aspects of her senses flooded back to her. Her connections severed to the three corpses on the other end. No longer did they dance to her whims.
People whispered of beings like Svephraey. Rumors of people whose power brought back the dead. A necromancer, some might call her. A blasphemer others would say. Those people merely did not understand. They knew not what she did.
Svephraey did not bring the dead back to life. No… what Svephraey did with her collection of corpses was far more... sanitary...
Svephraey couldn’t bring the dead back to life. Rather, she merely gifted her corpses a piece of herself. A Splinter of her mind. A piece of consciousness given semi-autonomy. In its new vessel, it would take root and grow into an entity of its own.
The costs of her magic were simple. An aspect of her senses -her mind’s way of interacting with the world- in exchange she breathed new life into a deceased vessel. With the touch of a hand, she would form a bond with the corpse. A bond which tore away piece of her senses off into the body.
Her touch healed any rot and old wounds. And the new life she gifted? Well... it would then take on persona of its own. A persona given guidance from Svephraey of course.
She could influence her Splinters. Experience what they experienced. Make them act to her will. She WAS her Splinters. Perhaps that was what made it a magic of touch. The ability to feel, to sense, to be her splinters. A touch magic in perhaps the most metaphorical sense. A touch magic not without its drawbacks.
The most immediate shortcoming was the absorption of wounds taken by her Splinters, deadly wounds included. Fortunately, the absorption process was slow, giving her plenty of time to react before taking in the full wound. If necessary, she would cut away her connection from a Splinter so that she could live another day.
The second drawback was by far the more dangerous of the two. By Gifting life to her Splinters, they now had a mind of their own. If left unattended for a prolonged period of time, then as sure as the sun would rise, her Splinters would come for her. A deep rooted desire to wrestle away her control.
More than once she woken with a knife at her throat. Those were the foolish Splinters. The ones who forgot that she could severe their ties with a thought. The more crafty Splinters would try less direct methods. Poison was a common tactic. Some would even have her kidnapped. It was her awareness of her Splinters which kept her alive.
Yes, awareness of one’s Splinters was key to surviving as a Gifter. At all times she kept her Splinters at arm’s length, least she meet the fate of the one who had breathed life to her…
Two more twangs. The ringing in her ears softened as two different pitches in frequency became audible to her again.
Awareness.... Rule number one in the art of Gifting. Keep Splinters far away and monitor their activities daily. If any of them grew too ambitious, she would assert more control. Those that became too dangerous… Well she could always severe the connection. Wasteful though it may seem...
Another twang. Another Splinter back to being dead. Svephraey sighed. She would need a fresh set of bodies after this.
The world around Svephraey seemed to flare... no... it was more of an enhanced awareness of the senses she still maintained.
The Kharu-Natjer. Svephraey realized. That was his touch on her mind. He must have sensed her frustration.
The strange man's presence, in her consciousness, was soothing to her. She had become accustomed to it, and as such she openly welcomed his embraced. With his touch came an enhanced control over magic and her connections to the Splinters dancing to her thoughts.
She no longer needed to maintain focus in order send out commands. She made them act with a mere whim. All at once, she experienced what they experienced. Their fight against the cultists. Their struggle to hold out long enough to allow the Pact Makers to escape. She felt at the thoughts of their minds, like threads woven into a fabric of something far greater.
Such an odd sensation. She thought. Idly she poked at the greater fabric. The strands where her Splinter’s thoughts bled into something else. There were other threads there... threads much like the ones that made up her Splinter's own thoughts...
She focused in on one of the strands. Willing her Splinter's thoughts to brush against it. Shockingly, it complied.
Stray ideas flooded into Svephraey. Concepts... ideas... fear of death... desire for knowledge... to know the future...
Svephraey froze. Were these the thoughts of the cultists her Splinters fought?!
An thought came to mind. She could feel this person, sense this person, know this person... Could she perhaps Splinter herself into this person? She urged the Splinter forward. Contact! All she needed was contact!
A final twang rang in the room. Her last Splinter, among the cultists, had fallen. The Kharu-Natjer magic enhancing touch faded.
“NOO!” Svephraey she shouted louder than she would have liked.
She had felt a magic far greater! A magic sitting just beyond her fingertips. Power… immense power ripe for the taking! All she needed was more time! Time to-
Two voices came from outside her chamber. One belonged to the ‘pup’ she had left guarding her room. The other voice was more feminine. Her accent was distinct. Her grasp on the language crude. One of The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves no doubt. Come to fetch her, has he?
The door to her chamber opened. “Mistress?” Said the pup from outside.
Svephraey released a breath in displeasure. Entering her chambers without asking?
Another a foolish pup. She thought. She rose to her feet needle-like dagger appearing in her hand with a flick of the wrist.
“Mistress?” The pup yelped, his head poking into the chamber. “The Kha-”
The poor fool’s words cut off as Svephraey’s dagger slit his throat. The pup fell to the floor, his body pushing the door to her chamber fully open. A young wide-eyed woman, stood at the door to Svephraey’s chamber. Her hair a glistening silver. Her skin of that foreign orange-tan hue. She took a step back in apprehension, yet that was all she did. As always, The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves proved to be well trained.
Svephraey ignored the sound lad’s dying gasps for air. Instead, she focused her attention on the slave women’s garments. The woman wasn’t half nude, thank the senses, nor did she wear simple rags or a veil to cover her face. From what Svephraey had gathered from The Kharu-Natjer’s culture, this meant the woman held at least some level of some importance. So in other words… don’t kill her?
Svephraey sheathed her dagger. It was a pity she couldn't kill the woman. She would make for a lovely puppet, though admittedly her skin would make her stand out far too much...
Svephraey turned her back on the woman and knelt by dying pup. She took his hand in hers and began to pet it softly.
The lad whimpered softly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Hush now, my little pup.” She cooed soothingly into his ear. Her words came out much like a melody. “Your pain, your fears... It will all be over shortly.”
His whimpers began to soften. His eyes starting to glaze.
“There, there. That’s better.” She whispered. “Sleep well, my dear pup. Embrace the eternal slumber. May you wake again to another dream.”
The young slave woman shuffled her feet uneasily. Svephraey smiled to herself. I appeared The Kharu-Natjer’s slaves were human after all.
“Svephraey Lady.” The young woman said adding far too many syllables to her words. “Kharu-Natjer… You to come, he speaks.”
Svephraey frowned at the words. This one was utterly butchering the language. She placed her palm on the dead pup’s back and closed her eyes.
“Tell our dear Kharu-Natjer, that I am quite busy at the moment. His new, trouble-seeking friends have left me quite short on Splinters”.
Svephraey pressed her palm down firmer. Her mind jumped to the corpse. She felt and knew the world through her new vessel. An experience lasting only a moment before her awareness shot back to her own body.
Svephraey opened her eyes and blinked. The ability to see green left her yet again. Distantly she felt the splintered piece of her mind take root in the dead lad before her. She felt as it shaped itself into a freshly made Splinter.
Svephraey found color to be among the most unnecessary aspects of the human senses. And so it was often the first to go. She did find it odd that she couldn’t splinter her ability to see color into more than just three types of colors. What was it about the colors red, blue and green that made them so crucial to seeing other hues?
“Is important.” The slave women spoke. “New... slaves? Is the word?" The slave asked. Svephraey merely shrugged. "... New... slaves is needing.”
New slaves? Svephraey thought curiously. Such actions would surely put The Kharu-Natjer in the spotlight. Curious fellow, that one was.
“Tell him… I’ll stop by momentarily.”
The woman nodded curtly, apparently accepting her response as a good enough answer. She left shortly after.
What an odd people. Svephraey thought, her eyes trailing the woman as she left.
What sort of creep creates a society where everyone is born a slave?She fruitlessly tried to wrap her mind around how societal ranking would work in such culture. There were obviously different rankings of slaves, but how did ones at the top manage all of them? Did they delegate slave management to other high ranking slaves?
Svephraey shook her head. It all seemed no different than how the world work here. She turned her gaze to the dead pup. The corpse’s wounds had finished knitting up neatly. Soon the body began to stir.
The Splinter blinked. Life returned to the corpse’s eyes. It looked up and met her gaze. There was a questioning look in its eyes. She vaguely remember that same confusion when she first woke. A question of why she was here and not there.
Slowly Svephraey asserted her will upon the Splinter. It questioning stare became understanding. Its place in life now known. The Splinter rose to its feet and proceeded to walk away.
“Be sure to tidy up.” She called after it. “You’ll find clean clothes in the pup’s old chambers.”
The Splinter absently raised its hand in acknowledgment, as it headed out into the world above.
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