...
At the question of her strength, Nera looks over with a sad expression, "I... I am bound to this place now... Moreover, my control over reality is not nearly as strong as it is in this realm. You are this old world's last hope..."
Pointing at the wisps, specifically at their bodies, she spoke again, "You may be no gods, but you have the potential to become great... Unlike me, who is bound to the great 'Edicts' of this world, your forms, neither dead nor alive, have long broken your shackles. Your coloration is an example of this. Blank, therefore accepting. They may not see the potential, but I have. Lost and forgotten, your souls drifted in the darkness... Despite losing all of you past self, your reasons and ties, you have waded back through the void, drawn to my dream. A desire burns in you, whether you know it or not. Perhaps some of you already realized this. Whatever the case, that 'emptiness' in yourself will act as a siphon for power."
Her smile then waned a bit when one of the them showed their impatience. This one had been quiet this whole time, watching the others with a growing annoyance until the emotion burst out. They definitely seemed to have an air of determination, almost as if it understood itself more than the others did. Or perhaps they just wanted to learn for themselves?
“Not everyone awakens with the same knowledge, dear. Nor do they accept it the same. Even if you are ready, others might not be. If you are to hunt the old gods, you must stand together as one, not as one in many. Otherwise you will fall to their overwhelming might.” she says, softly chiding.
“But yes, I agree, I have been enjoying this company too much. I cannot withhold you anymore from your true destinies because of my own selfishness and weakness... Follow me."
Nera then gets back up on her feet, the talons clicking on the floor as she moves over to the ornate stairway at the center. The flowing pale form, though giant to them, stood like normally against the setpiece. It looked like something that was pulled out from a storybook, not a touch of rust or grime can be seen upon it, with swirling designs on the railings and stepstones. The ornate frame seemed spirited, appearing in great contrast to the gloomy structure around, emanating a similar cold glow to the Goddess. Though incredibly faint. Even the way it seemed burst out from the stone flooring seemed uncanny and natural, sprouting out like an overgrown white shard. Looking down the sinking steps, however, an abyss of shadow rested at the bottom, at what can only be considered a 'bottom' at least, It was an eerie force, swallowing even the red aura of the dying sun above. It fills you with a deep dread.
"This is where you will descend to the real world...”
She speaks in warning, the pale eyes gazing at the blackness with knowing fear. Although more accurately, what lied beyond. "This realm is connected to reality, like a mirror. Once you go down, you will reach a place, from which this I have separated. At an infinitesimal point in time, this was once a temple of my worship. But now it lies a great darkness. I was never a deity favored by the predominant populous, but my few followers were devout..." she says with a lamentable tinge, "For those who seek comfort in dreams, are souls truly forlorn. In my absence, I sense it, many of them still loom down below. They wait for me, thinking that I will return to take away their pains. For a time, I granted their pitiful wish... But there is nothing I can do now. How much, I wish otherwise, there is no reasoning with what remains. The blight has overtaken their hearts, a plague that even the Gods cannot heal.”
She then glances with over, almost teary eyed. “Please, release them. Free them of their suffering. Absorb their sorrow, and also that which haunts this world. This is the first step in your destiny."
Nera then quietly steps up to each of you, reaching out with a black clawed finger. “My dearest, while I have the utmost confidence and hope in you, I will not fabricate a false delusion by which to fool you. This journey will be difficult, requiring great sacrifices. Some of you might not even return after this preliminary hurdle... Fearing such a thing, though I should resist, I wish to know the names of my beloved chosen. So that I may treasure it forever...”
Nera then closes her eyes, a pained look crossing her face, as if she is letting go of something, before she taps each of you on the chest. A faint black mark appears where the long nail touches, filling you with an uncanny chill before quickly melding away.
Suddenly, a surge of power will explode within you. It feels absolutely crushing, like a jolt of lightning crashing through you. You feel as though everything around is pulling towards you, the lines of reality melting away for a brief second as it coalesces with your very being, the greatest draw being that of the Goddess herself.
You feel bound to this place now. To this deity.
This bond manifests in different ways for each soul, as you may notice from witnessing those around you. It might simply be a black tattoo somewhere on your body that swirls into shape, like a blotch of ink dropped into a pool, a physical manifestation such as a whirled horn, or in converse, odd-shaped pupils. Along with receiving the strange quirk, you feel your wispy form begins to recede and fade, as though your very nature is being altered. It condenses and turns into layers of flesh then into bare skin, the flowing pale essence atop your head stranding out to become bushels of hair.
Among all of this, somewhere deep inside, you feel a familiarity rise. Like a bubble rising from the depths, containing a piece of yourself. One lost long ago. You can feel it trying to tap into the boon of power, desperately trying to resurface, to make you whole again. But the magic does not fight back, as though giving you an option. You can reject it, to allow the gifted power to manifest fully in your empty vessel, though you would be 'incomplete' and left frail due to your ethereal-like form. Or you can accept it, allowing this desire to consume the surge of magic. You would uncover this missing memory and will become more 'complete', the magic molding you more physically as an attempt to return some of your lost experiences and strength. Both have their own burdens, and choosing one will have consequences, you feel. But in the end, the choice is yours to make alone.
At the end of all of this, you will receive an indication of your name.
The ivory Goddess watches the transformations of the innocent white wisps with a quaint smile, trying her best to hide the tears welling in her eyes. She stands there by the entrance of the ornate stairway, patiently awaiting to receive her newly transfixed chosen.
...
Daemos