Closed Where am I? (Celeste)

[Mirage]

13th of Winter, 515 AV
Location: Somewhere in Kalea
Time: Late afternoon

It was cold. A crisp, stimulating cold not the kind that cut and bit into the flesh and tore at the bones. A faint breeze that would send a trail of goosebumps running along the skin, and the ground itself was firm and slightly chilled. The silence, however, that was what was most unnerving. It wasn't just the normal quiet of empty space, or an inactive wilderness. it was a silence so perpetuating that through it one could almost hear the beating of their own heart or the crunch and crackle of their muscles and joints. The breeze left no noise as it passed over, and there was not even a faint echo of birds flying or fluttering overhead. Just, quiet.

The first thing Celeste would notice of her body was that it ached, like a tired old ache from staying in one spot for too long. A ringing in her head, and a dampness to her skin. She was outside, all cast in shadow as she looked up and around and saw... Mountains. Great towering spires of rock and stone and a few patches of tall evergreen trees. The sun was lost behind some peak, but its light spread just enough for her to see that she was in one such outcropping of trees near the base of a snowy peak. A fierce wind would blow through this valley, a reminder not only of the chill but that the Initiate was, in fact, completely naked.

Her last memories were of entering the Heartlands with Annalisa, but then soon after the encounter with the spiders it grew... fuzzy. A soft whisper, a hand grasping hers, and then darkness. Now she found herself in a land that was certainly not Sahova, apparently alone, with no possessions, and nothing but mountains and trees for as far as the eye could see in any direction.

This was the beginning. What would the poor lost girl, now more a woman, do next?

[Celeste Arumen]

The edges of her vision darkened. All she could recall was that a strange lassitude fell over her. The whispers were faintly audible, as if inviting her to have a better listen. Celeste struggled for a moment, but the compulsion was just too strong. The moment she took a single step to hear, there was suddenly a hand in hers, guiding her away. It wasn't that she understood or that she even cared. No recognition of death; just a vignette. And then, blessed emptiness.

▽

The breeze eddied over the dirt and along her skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Her body began to stir as her consciousness was slowly restored. There had been no awareness to it. Just a dreamless sleep. It felt as if no time elapsed at all, yet her body ached fiercely. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open for the very first time in what'd been nearly two years to find the world a very different place.

There were jagged silhouettes far away. The foreground was still a blur, but some part of her mind could comprehend the towering shapes. There was an undeniable familiarity to them. 'Mountains,' she thought, glancing around. Things were coming into focus.

As she attempted to sit upright, the aching grew worse. It was as if someone had struck her over the head and drowned her in a bog. Her flesh was clammy and her ears rang. Uncomfortable and bewildered, she reached up to clean out her right ear. But her body felt wrong. Her arms were too long and -- she looked down to find... Breasts.

Celeste wondered at the shapes. Her hands began to roam up and down her body, finding curves where there once were none. There was so much more to her now. Longer legs, too. Admiringly, she smiled and rubbed her toes in the stale dirt. She'd always wanted to be taller.

But in another moment, her face fell. Her good humor couldn't last. Sudden comprehension lanced through her mind. The clarity was so total that her eyes began to sting, almost by reflex. Celeste could feel her pulse quicken. It was so quiet she could hear her own hysteria. Shaking, she clawed at the ground around her. The trees, the shrubs, the mountains.

She was in the Unforgiving.

Celeste struggled to her feet, but her atrophied muscles wouldn't support her. Instead, she toppled to one side, hands clasped over her mouth. Any nearby predator could come and find her like this, totally vulnerable. But the confusion and the panic, it began to congeal. Her chest tightened and she couldn't breathe. There wasn't enough oxygen. Had she damaged her heart in the Pit, when Tierra had to save her? Was she going to die? She drew her legs in and clutching her elbows, gasped and wept into her knees. Here she was alone in the twilight hour of in one of the most frightening places she'd ever known.

"Celie," Illia piped. The creature drifted along. For once she was in her natural form, just an earthbound wisp of byzantium. Celeste froze. The sound of her own familiar startled her. Her brow furrowed and she hissed at it to be quiet, more motion than whisper.

"It's not safe here," she mouthed. But the Avavali did an infuriating little dance instead.

"No, it's fine!" Illia chirped. "I checked it!"

Celeste glowered at the effervescent little demon. That much was dubious. She'd never known Illia to be particularly thorough while unsupervised. Their bond was still tentative. But something seemed to happened to Illia too, and it had nothing to do with the magic. The familiar was aged somehow. It was as if she were reflecting the change in her host.

This was enough to break the spell, or so it seemed. Her panic quieted. Celeste unfurled and sat up straight. Soon it would be time to see if her magic still worked. But for now, standing was first priority. In the meantime, she'd do the best she could to assess the situation.

"Where the petch am I?" She said, to no one in particular.

The oppressive silence continued. Slowly, as she massaged and stretched her legs, she became aware of her djed again. Standing was overrated. The structure was different from when she'd fallen asleep but she could work with it. It was just odd to see how she'd grown.

It required a lot, but after some time she was able to access her own energy. Celeste reached within the network of her djed and began sifting through the gossamer strands. Each time she did, her body contorted. Being unpracticed for so very long made her stiff.

Very slowly, piece by piece, she put her tiger model back together. Her bones snapped into place. One could hear the audible cracks. The muscle memory associated with morphing was coming back to her. Her skin itched terribly as she sprouted fur, though it was a blessing in disguise. After all, it was cold outside. The structure of her body grew squatter, wider until she was on all fours. With a practiced hand, she carefully put it all together, sparing no detail. All in all, it took about an hour.

Before long, there was a snarling predator where Celeste had been.

Normally, she'd layer her body in armor as Riyanna once taught her, bit it'd require too much and she was running out of daylight. A sharp pang came unbidden at the thought of her Master. What had become of her?

"Ready?" Illia asked.

The tiger fixed the Avavali with a level stare before rocking back on its haunches and peeling off into the forest, in search of higher ground.

She was ready as she'd ever be.

[Mirage]

For better or for worse, the transformation would bring with it a heightened sense of awareness of her surroundings, but more specifically a heightened sense of smell. The very tick that the transformation was complete those animal senses would be assaulted with what could only be described as a putrid stench of rotting flesh bathed in rotting eggs before being left out in the sun for far too long. It was everywhere. On the trees, the ground, floating through the air, and worse yet it covered Celeste as well. When the wind blew it was difficult to tell the exact direction of the smell, but now there was something else to take note of.

The silence was not completely silent. There, to the west, so soft that it might have been missed if she were not careful, was some sort of bubbling sound. Like a slow gurgle, or a pot about to boil over. It came from down the slope a ways, deeper into the trees and down into the depths of a darkened crag. Then something else could be heard, this one closer, to the north near the foot of the mountain. A slight scraping followed by type of clicking. It was almost metallic, but thus far so far away it was difficult to tell. Beyond that the sun was quickly setting beyond the mountain ranges. Light was fading, but that meant little to a creature who hunted by darkness anyway.

[Celeste Arumen]

The stench was overwhelming. With her heightened awareness, not only could she smell the thing she could practically taste it. Celeste slowed momentarily to let Illia, who was now in her usual form, hop onto her shoulders. It gave her enough time to really listen to her surroundings. She couldn't decide which was worse - the gurgling or the scraping. One took her back to the Testing Grounds while the other was something far more sinister. The mere thought of going north struck an icy chill into her heart.

It was mad, but she had her reasons. Celeste hesitated a moment before she started toward the faint gurgling to the west. It was further off but if she went at full speed, she had the potential to draw out whatever it was making that noise to the North. Toward the bubbling, where the three would coincide.

"I'm ready," Illia said demurely, in her tiny voice.

What was she thinking? Where was she? If she just continued north, chances were she'd run into the mountain. It'd give her a vantage point with which to see the rest of the territory and figure out where the petch she was. The sound could be nothing. Just a scraping branch. But her gut was saying west, even though the acrid stench had her a step away from wretching. Whatever happened to her in the Heartlands, it had taken somewhere else. Changed her, too. Was it some sort of flux in the djed caused by one too many experiments? Were they in another dimension entirely?

Regardless of what caused it, chances were that if a portal of some kind swallowed her up and spit her out somewhere else.... Well, it may have brought a few extra passengers along for the ride.

She licked her chops. It was now or never. The tiger dug in with its powerful haunches and took off to the west, flying in the face of its own rationale.

Sometimes, you just have to follow your instincts.

[Mirage]

The western path lead down into an ever steepening slope, dirt and trees giving away to rock and stone as the crag came closer and into view. The bubbling sound grew louder the father she went, and whats more the stench began to grow stronger as well. The air became thicker, almost humid if she followed the sound and smell into a split in the rock that revealed a darkened path that lead to a deep ravine. There near the bottom was the source of the bubbling sound, a large dark pool of what looked like bubbling mud. The stench came from that source in waves, each bursting bubble releasing more and more of the noxious fumes.

The ravine was empty, filled almost completely by the mud vat that stretched nearly a dozen yards in every direction. Scattered stones and boulders lay scattered in what free space there was in the valley, each of varying sizes from just a pebble to twice Celeste's own height.

From the path she had taken the sound of scraping had stopped, but was replaced by a new sound. The sound of movement, something coming slowly down the path at a measured pace. The sound of something thumbing, and then something dragging after was all that could be made out, thought the clicking sound was slightly more acute, more of a rattling now like hollow objects shaking and hitting against one another. Closer and closer it came, and would round the corner of the slope in less than a chime.

[Celeste Arumen]

If the smell had been bad before, now it was truly wretched. Even as a tiger, it was a struggle to keep from vomiting. Quietly, she questioned this own course of action. Was it entirely necessary to confront the stink? But once confirming the subtle sounds of pursuit that followed, her course was set in earnest.

That earlier supposition about scraping branches? Yeah, that was thoroughly debunked.

Down the slope she went. At the very bottom, there was what appeared to be a lake of dark ooze from which the smell was clearly emanating. Her tawny eyes started to water. The odor was so overpowering, it burned her nose and throat just to breathe it in. Oh, the decisions she had to make! Were she to get devoured by some twisted deformity or take a jaunt into a hellish stench-bog? Both had their merits, to be sure.

Meanwhile, the scraping drew nearer and nearer, followed by a grotesque thumping. 'Superb,' she thought wryly, in spite of the panic. Almost a year of working the Testing Grounds had done well to help steel her nerves. Not to say she wasn't terrified. Oh, she was scared shitless. The hackles stood ramrod straight at the base of her neck. She could hear the taut drum of her heart as it rattled against her ribcage. But if there was anything she learned, it was about the value of action. How she felt didn't matter. Only her actions would measure the outcome of this situation.

The stones. Some were pebbles while others eclipsed her in size. Celeste darted behind one, though it didn't do much to hide her. Hopefully it would buy her some time while she looked inside at the glittering filigree of her own djed. She needed the three layer defense and she needed it now. Desperately, she tried to remember what it was that Riyanna had taught her. It wasn't any more than a few days ago. The agony of training, the meditations in the pit and bitter fighting day in and day out. It was all meant to serve her, right now.

On the outermost rim of her energy, right between the divide of flesh and fur she began to twist upwards. The strands wearily complied, as if they had a will of their very own. At the base of her skull an ache began spreading and she knew that in this fight she'd surely overgive. What mattered most was that for the moment, she had time. Overgiving was surely better than dying. She'd come too far to give in here.

The smooth surface of an exoskeleton began to form as the connection between mind and matter shifted, manipulating the very fabric of her identity. She could feel the tactile sensation of her skin hardening into a thin carapace. Her head blazed and her vision swam, though whether that was from the smell or the magic, she couldn't be sure. Methodically, she went from head to foot, making sure no patch of flesh went unaccounted for.

By then, the monster had surely rounded the corner into view.

[Mirage]

The sounds came closer, and closer. Their slow and rhythmic pace did not quicken, coming onward without hurry. It took a few chimes, but a shape could be seen rounding the corner at the edge of the gully, starting down the slope toward the bubbling pool. It was vaguely human shaped, a bit too wide and lumpy at the shoulders. The thumping was from the thick wooden staff held in a grizzly and gnarled hand. It was draped in robes, more like rags, that were a mixture of blacks and browns with something like stains all down the fronts. It's hood was pulled up, hiding whatever kind of face it might have. The metallic scrapping sound was coming from somewhere within the folds of its robes.

Passing close to the rock behind which Celeste hid the creature, thing, could be heard mumbling to itself in a raspy deep voice. It did not seem to notice the other person hiding just a few steps away. Crouching close to the pool of bubbling mud it would slowly lower its staff, reaching its now free hand into its robes once more to pull out what looked like the top of a skull. Flipping over in its hand it would reach the makeshift bowl down into the mud, collecting a bit of it before setting the bowl on the ground beside him. Once more it would shuffle in its robes, bring out a handful of leaves and herbs, dropping them into the skull cap bowl before sitting back rather unceremoniously on its butt.

"Stupid youngling's late." The voice was masculine, deep and raspy like his throat was worn from overuse. A few more mumbled words and it pushed back his hood, revealing a mostly bald head with a few wispy strands of grey hair. His eyes were brown, tinted a slight red in color. More shockingly was that instead of a nose there was just a gaping hole where one should have been.

From his robes the man pulled out a long something that looked suspiciously like a rat tail which he began to chew on. His open moth revealed several missing or rotting teeth.

"Petching youngling's don't know their place anymore." He said, smacking and sucking on the tip of the tail as he did, "Uldr will be rid of him soon enough. Just be patient. Yes just be patient."

[Celeste Arumen]

As the figure rounded the corner, her eyes narrowed. It resembled a human man far more closely than she would have thought. There was something not quite right about the shape of the torso either, too heavy in the shoulders with enough reinforcement underneath. Celeste watched warily as he shambled over to the edge of the mud pit. The origin of the thumping had become clear, but what of the clicking? That much remained a mystery.

The creature reached into the ooze in front of it and with a little 'pop,' retrieved what she presumed to be a skull, though from a distance it was hard to tell. Between the odor and the obvious implications of it all, her stomach started to churn. Was the mud some kind of man-eating sinkhole? If so, who on earth could stumble blindly into it without smelling first?

As it began muttering about a 'youngling,' the beast swept back its hood to reveal quite a peculiar face. While there was still no way to tell where the clicking was coming from, she could now see that it had a large void where a nose ought to have been. Disgusted, the tiger licked its chops.

Further, he mentioned something about Uldr. Who was that, exactly? The name sent alarm bells ringing in her mind, but for whatever reason she couldn't place it. Whoever or whatever it was, the mere sound of it was sinister enough for her liking. Especially given that the creature was all too eager to be rid of this 'youngling,' asserting that Uldr would be the one to do it.

As much as she wanted to keep morphing, she now had the element of surprise. Even the slightest disturbance would be enough to attract the creature's attention. Celeste elected to keep quiet and watch the scene unfold in front of her instead. It would be to her benefit to learn more of where they were and what these two in particular, were doing.

Best to take his advice and 'be patient.'

[Mirage]

The wait was not long, a few chimes at most, spent mostly in silence punctuated by loud smacking and the odd mumble or two. The man contented himself with his rat tail, sucking out its juices as he played with the concoction in his makeshift bowl, swirling it around as it bubbled and popped. The sun's light was quickly sinking beyond the horizon, and the towering mountains around them made the shadows creeping in come all the faster. Just as the sky blazed red in the final moments of light a sound could be heard over the wind, a rushing sound that that could not quite be placed, but before much thought could be given the space in the gully was suddenly filled with thick brown smoke. It came flooding in from all directions, collecting and swirling around the pool of bubbling mud, and when it did the other man, thing, slowly stud to his feet with a grunt.

The smoke stank of a similar rotting smell as the mud, and while it did not quite reach the area Celeste hid if even the smallest breath of it reached her it would sting the throat and clog the airways, making it difficult to breath. The miasma sword and swirled, faster and faster until it began to collect a few feet from the robed figure, condensing into a humanoid shape with two arms, two legs and a head. Bones began to form, muscle and veins coming next, rippling across the exposed skeleton, and in just a few ticks all of the Miasma was collected in one spot, filling in holes and gaps in another human figure. The last of the miasma filled his empty eye sockets, forming two burning red orbs that stared at the other figure without blinking. It was another man, completely hairless with his grey skin pulled tightly over his skeletal figure. He had all the features a normal person should have, but his skin was dried and stretched, gaunt in the face with dark circles beneath each eye. And from this man there came a nearly overwhelming feeling of wrongness. Striking, powerful and crippling. Celeste would feel her animal instincts telling her, shouting at her, begging her to run. Flee this person, and do not look back. The feeling made the hairs on her body stand on end. This creature was the embodiment of unnatural. It shouldn't exist.

"Biran," The robbed man said, "You're late."

"I am here precisely when I wished to be here." Biran said. One long fingered hand reached up to scratch his perfectly bald head, wide eyes looking around the area as he drew in a quick breath through his nose, "Did something follow you?"

"Hm?" Robbed man grunted, shifting to look around but quickly giving a dismissing shrug, "Wasn't anything here when I arrived. Your nose is useless. Better off without it." As he said this he pointed to the gaping hole where his should have been.

"Right..." Biran said slowly. His eyes swept the area, pausing on the rock behind which Celeste stood for a few extra ticks, but soon his attention returned to the man, "Mortis, is everything prepared?"

"Yes yes, just like you said." shuffling his robes Mortis finally revealed his other hand, and in it was a long pair of scissors. It was these that were making the metallic scraping noise as he open and closed them, "It was simple enough. Ran into a tad bit of trouble when the pesky bird people started exploring under their mountain, but the keystone under Wind Reach was destroyed."

"Good. Those troublesome spiritists in Alvadas are being seen to. I decided to send in Cara with a few of my own creations. I believe the city is having quite a time handling them as we speak."

Mortis cackled, "Serves 'em right. Damn Cravens should have their hands plenty full with them, and wont poke their noises in where we don't want them." Spitting out the rat tail Mortis wiped his lips off on one dirty sleeve before picking up the bowl still on the ground, "We have seen to 5 of the 7 key stones, where are the rest?"

"One is just south of Kalinor, on the border before the mountains leading to Falyndar. The last is in Lhavit. I will see to that one personally." Biran's voice was smooth, eloquent and his tone a soothing baritone. All of which were a stark contrast to his appearance and aura.

"Never liked Lhavit. Too many pretty people. You can't trust a pretty person."

"You will see to the other then?"

"Bah, why should I? Get Cara to do it." Mortis grumbled, sloshing the liquid in the bowl a few times before downing it all in one gulp, "I've got my own projects to do you know."

"Such as?"

The robbed man paused, "Well, like..." His brows knitted together in thought and his mumbling grew slightly louder and more hurried, "Just got a lot to do. This and that, a youngling like you wouldn't understand the complexities of it all. This ritual will require much preparations."

"Ah yes, of course." Biran said nodding slowly, "But then that is why I am asking for your assistance. Cara is still far too new, and while she is quite intelligent for a Wretched One she does not have the power or resources to accomplish such an important task. Besides," Biran added with a sneer, "If you are as great a Master as you say then dealing with the keystone will be a trifle, and you will be back in plenty of time to finish the rest of the preparations."

Mortis seemed to consider this for a few ticks, chewing on something, probably is tongue, before replying, "Fine, very well. Ill see to it. Just don't be late to the next calling."

"Certainly not," Biran said, brown smoke beginning to rise from his body, pulling back skin and muscle as the miasma began to spin around him once more, "When next we meet it will be time for the ritual to commence."

In a sudden burst of smoke Biran dispersed, the miasma billowing up and flowing out from the space, disappearing into the night. Mortis watched him go for a moment, opening and closing his scissors as he did before turning and beginning to head back up the slope the way he had come.