Solo [The Pit] Metastasis

[Celeste Arumen]

16th Day of Winter, 513 AV

’I am possibility. I am change.’

She wasn’t just Celeste. She was anything, anything in the world that she wanted to be. The Pit seemed to agree, too, as it brushed hands along the length of her hair again, the energy bending seamlessly to its whim, turning a lovely shade of teal, highlighted with gold here and there. How pretty, she thought to herself. In silence, she complimented the Pit on its good taste. Once upon a time, she saw an acrobat from the Inverted sporting a similar shade, after all.

Her body was tired and sore. It was the second day and she’d barely gotten any sleep. It took all her willpower just to keep awake and even that was becoming more difficult. Even if she wanted to fight the Pit, she really couldn’t. Celeste didn’t have the focus to do much other than just sit and think.

On the first day, she’d found some sort of internal peace within the disquiet, though now was the time to resolve some of the more complex, conflicting ideas that came along with that. The first of which, was where her allegiances lie. From a personal standpoint, she had a reverential attitude toward Goron Silverheart, but if things went her way, she’d soon stand beside him. No, she had to think beyond that, to what little she knew of the factions in Sahova.

Celeste would not abide being Amaryllis’ pawn for much longer. The Pit agreed with this too, yanking greedily at the vibrant corona of her fingernails and pulling them outward, the points keen, designed to draw blood. This made sense. The Pit was actually quite understanding, once you gave it a chance. Wearily, the girl felt a stab of remorse for having rejected it in the beginning.

It knew. It forgave her. What an amenable sort of thing. A chill ran down her spine and she shivered.

Anyway, in a short period of time, she’d outgrow the need for Amaryllis' influence. Ascension was the first order of business, if she could pull it off. In order to do that, she needed to learn the expectation. Celeste needed to know just what criteria the judges were looking for. Then, it was a matter of bending those standards to meet her needs.

She’d already decided what she wanted to do, to which her new friend the Pit made an example of, by turning her whole left arm to scales, running over the network of energy and sharply bending it inward, manipulating both color and shape. It was quite impressive, though the tightening of her flesh was lightly painful and caused her to itch. But the scales bent slightly upward at the ends and were a very lovely shade of green, which she thought on the whole was quite nice.

Right, exactly. She wanted to work on models of ambush predators, featured both with and without of Sahova. The first was the tiger; it would be an easy base to work with. There’d be several incarnations. She’d first exhibit the personal model, featuring a limb as some sort of snake that could bite without being noticed as perhaps, an alternative to a full-body morph. Maybe she could even find poisonous quills (some quills from the first day still jutted awkwardly from the flesh of her forehead) that were easily disguised, or some sort of hallucinogenic frog flesh that she could borrow properties from.

As she sat and contemplated this, the Pit went about merrily, twisting her toenails (which caused her to wince from the pressure) and hollowing some of the bones of her hands, (which made her feel strangely light.) She felt that the Pit was her friend now, oddly, follow the same skewed logic she’d used when first befriending the city of Alvadas. Many made the mistake of believing the city was in fact Ionu, but Celeste knew that wasn’t true. Creations were not their masters. Whoever made the Pit was not in fact, the Pit. Rather, a part of them lived within it, but it did not define who and what it was.

Which brought her to thoughts of Riyanna.

She loved the woman so much. The thought of hurting her was unbearable. But she was very quickly starting to realize that their relationship would change. As much as Celeste wanted to cling to her, she had to stand alone. This made her sad, so the Pit took the djed of her back and started to push again. She complied, bending into a hunch, eyes downcast.

It really was sad. She didn’t want to lose the Warden. The girl couldn’t even fathom intentionally causing her harm. But those on Sahova were cruel. They’d see their relationship and use it against them, if they could. They would do whatever it took to break Celeste, if they had to. So she had to be tractable from the start, unlike Anna. She couldn’t give anyone a reason to think otherwise.

Her mind wandered. What was Anna doing, she wondered?

x

[Celeste Arumen]

She felt dread building in her gut. It’d been a while since she was in the Pit. Her whole body had been changed in one form, or another. It was likely time to go, then. Celeste tried to stand, but was hit by a wave of dizziness instead, causing her to stagger crab-legged to the far wall. She gasped for breath. She just felt so very full and heavy. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever known.

”I’m done,” she gasped, elbows bent inside out, jutting awkwardly. Her teal hair was short and curled at the ends, her tongue forked, her skeleton visible through her flesh. The snake arm struggled as she attempted to hoist herself up, unable to find leverage with her hollow, hollow bones. Celeste had to push, really push to get where she wanted to go. Tierra and Brom waited nervously at the edge. When she collapsed back onto the ground, Brom decided to actually go in and get her.

There was a tightening in her chest. It ached terribly. And as she saw Brom coming down the ladder, the ache grew into a pain, a terrible pain that made her cry out. ”Brom!” Tierra called in alarm as her eyes began to darken. Celeste tried wiggling the fingers of her left arm, but in horror she realized she couldn’t feel them. Was she going numb? Was it really so cold, all of the sudden?

The last thing she felt was blinding agony. Her body left the ground. The Pit said sorry, sorry, sorry as she flew through the air somewhere, anywhere. And then there was black and no more pain and nothing at all.

When she woke up, they were crying. She blinked. Why were they crying?

The faces of Tierra and Brom, both tear-streaked hovered just above her, carrying a mixture of relief and terror, all in one. ”Celeste, honey,” Tierra croaked. It sounded like she’d been crying a lot. ”How do you feel sweetie?” That was an odd question. What had happened, again? She couldn’t remember much. ”I feel cold,” she said at first, trying to wiggle her fingers. They wiggled in reply.

Illia was there, next to her. The cat looked confused, almost. ”You were gone,” the familiar said. ”You weren’t there anymore. And then I was gone. I started to disappear! I felt like I was all dried up. And then everyone started to cry. What happened?”

Ah.

”I must’ve died then,” she replied weakly. But had she? How could she die and then not be dead? It didn’t make much sense. Illia blinked. ”Died?” The initiate nodded. ”Yep, Illia. When people die, they’re gone. I don’t evaporate. My body will still be here, but I’ll have moved on. You understand?”

The cat didn’t seem to understand. ”You mean, you’ll… You won’t be my master anymore?” Now it seemed overcome by sadness, too, though in Celeste’s abstracted frame of mind, this annoyed her. Oh well, she died. Weren’t they all expecting it? Weren’t they? She sighed, though somewhere she acknowledged that this was scary, at the very least.

”You’re in shock, so I’m going to need to you lie back,” Tierra said shakily, pushing the girl back toward the ground.

In shock? ”What’s that?”

Brom shook his head. ”Your heart failed,” he said, ”and your body didn’t get enough blood.” Her heart failed? That made sense, though she still didn’t quite grasp the whole ordeal. ”Am I overgiven?” Tierra smiled and nodded, yet her eyes were sad. ”Yes and no. Your heart stopped because your body forgot too much. You are doing very well…” She bit her lip and tears began to flow again. ”Too well.”

”It forgot too much?” She was agitated, for some reason. Celeste tried to sit up again and was pushed back by Brom’s intervening hand. ”Yes,” he replied in his gravelly voice. ”Overgiving is when you forget who you are, right? Well sometimes, you forget so much, you forget to do things like breathe. This time, your heart forgot how to beat.”

She smiled, unable to resist it. ”Even the Pit is trying to make me undead,” she gasped. ”These damn zombies, you have to give them credit for trying.”

And then her eyesight darkened, again.

Tierra scrambled to her pulse. ”It’s dropping off again, Brom, get me my bag. Now!” She was frantic, smoothing the hair from the girl’s forehead. Fear finally began creeping up through the fog of her condition. ”Am I going to die again?” She asked softly, beginning to cry. She didn’t want to die again, not again. She didn’t want the pain. She began to struggle. It was hard to breathe.

”Please, I’m sorry,” she said to no one in particular. ”Please, I don’t want to die…”

x

[Celeste Arumen]

Celeste was right on the edge of panic. Her heart slogged along as Tierra began force feeding her some herb-paste mixture. ”This isn’t going to act fast enough,” she said irritably. ”Brom, her heart was damaged. I don’t know how badly. She could be bleeding inside.” She leaned in, all of her arms still at work to keep her restrained while continuing to feed her the stuff.

”This was a mistake.” She continued, her eyes like flint. ”You think I don’t know that?” He snapped in reply, rifling through her bag. ”We knew this would happen. What do you want me to do?” Celeste was weeping in silence. She gasped over and over again to breathe. She was petrified by terror, now. It was all so real, whereas before she could scarcely think of it as more than a dream.

”I don’t know,” Tierra said desperately. ”She can’t go on. If this happens again, we can’t save her, Brom. I don’t know if we can save her now.”

Illia sat by her side. ”Oh Illia,” she said, tears streaming down her face. ”I love you. I’m so sorry. I was too weak. I didn’t mean to bring you here just for us to die.” The creature was frantic. ”No, no,” it chirped. ”It’ll be okay! You’re going to be fine! You only died once but now you’re back. Maybe you can die again and come back? Maybe we'll be okay?”

Celeste smiled sadly. ”Illia, listen to me. Where we go, none can follow. We go to the web of living souls, as do all creatures on this world. When my spirit moves from this body, it is taken by Dira and she weaves it into the tapestry of all things.” Her voice was strained at the end and the thought caused her to sob again.

’Kit,’ she thought. ’I’m sorry.' Perhaps if she could only broadcast the feeling, so the girl would know not to follow, not to come to this wretched island of undeath.

Illia on the other hand, was suddenly beside herself. ”No, no, no, Celie…” She began chirping frantically. ”Please don't die… I don't want to die too!”

”Ah,” she began and found no air to speak with. Tierra’s eyes went wide in horror. ”Brom…” She began. ”Give me my knife.” Celeste began to cough and cough but couldn’t get any air. Her feet began kicking wildly. Brom moved to hold her down, producing something steely and razor sharp.

”Rak’keli give me strength,” Tierra said.

Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

x

[Celeste Arumen]

The aftermath was brutal. There was so much pain. At times, Celeste felt like she was made of it, like there was nothing else to her but the feeling. Almost all of Tierra’s arms had been splashed with blood. Brom had flecks drying upon his face, in his hair. But the worst was over. Tierra had managed to release the pressure, draw out the liquid with a spile and then close it all up again. It was very scary, but then she felt the narcotic daze of the paste taking over and it was all alright. Celeste felt very light-headed and sleepy. Tierra would chew things up and then kiss her, feeding her like a little baby bird.

It was so nice. Tierra’s lips were soft. She imagined that she was a princess, being kissed, love bringing her back to life.

When she drifted off, Tierra sat back, mopping her forehead while Brom held her in his arms and then they kissed, too. That was nice, she thought. She missed Riyanna and Anna and Kit. Maybe if she could just stay alive a little longer and not die…

When she finally passed into unconsciousness, she had fever dreams. They were so rich and vivid. Grams scolded her for being careless and she said sorry. Riyanna wept and wept somewhere, alone, somewhere where she saw it all and lamented every passing moment. She could fly near the stars if she wished. She could see the whole island and everyone on it. The girl walked with Ionu hand in hand, though he was now a she wearing a white gold crown and a long sable cloak.

And there was whispering. On the brink of her waking mind, she heard it.

”We can’t let her go back in. Are you out of your mind?” It was Brom and he sounded mad. Another voice, a womanly voice responded. ”We have no choice,” it said sadly. But then there was shouting, only some of which she could discern. ”She died Riyanna! What is wrong with you?!”

”Brom, stop it!”

”No Tierra! She didn’t see what I saw! She didn’t see a little girl die in her arms!! We saved her, not you! You don’t have the right to –“

”I saw it.” Riyanna sounded so very distant. Cold. Yet so, so very sad.

There was a stunned silence.

”I’ve been watching. Would you rather see her torn apart? No infirmity at this point is going to save her from Amaryllis. Would you rather see her get torn limb from limb? Mutilated? Destroyed? Eaten alive? Do you want to see this brave little girl sent back to us in pieces?” Her voice rose an octave. ”I will not see that happen. I don’t want to hurt her, but she brought this on herself.”

”SHE IS JUST A LITTLE GIRL!” His voice was that of a roar.

”Brom!” Tierra squeaked. There was some shuffling. ”Go, just go. You’ve had enough. I’ll stay here. You need to calm down.”

There was murmuring and then, she began to dream again.

When she finally awoke, the sun had risen high into the sky. When all this began, it’d just barely brushed the horizon. How long? She blinked.

”Eat this,” came the kindly voice she was learning to know. Tierra smiled. There was no more blood on her anywhere. With one hand, she offered a piece of cooked meat. Celeste reached out and took it. She was surprised to be alive and not in so much pain. ”Am I okay?” She asked quietly, looking down at her bandaged chest.

”Yes, as far as I can tell. Your heart was damaged but not too badly. You just got a little backed up, is all. I had to drain the fluid but once I did that, the medicine kicked in.” She looked very, very tired. ”You’re lucky to be young. Someone older may not have gotten through that. How are you feeling?”

She sat up on her elbows. ”I’m alright. My chest is sore and I feel very tired.” But strangely, that was it. ”Good. The medicine is working. You should heal at an accelerated rate. I gave you the good stuff.” She winked, though it seemed like it was an effort to do so.

”I’m sorry,” she finally said, after chewing at the meat. It tasted like heaven. The flavor was unbelievable. ”I didn’t mean to stay in so long. I didn’t realize…”

Tierra just shook her head. ”It’s okay.”

After a long silence, she finally said it. ”I’m going back in.”

Tierra sighed and it sounded like resignation. ”Yes dear, I know.” Celeste didn’t feel the need to explain. ”How soon can I?” Tierra simply handed her a canteen. ”Drink as much of this as you can. Give it a little while and then you can go back down. I want to make sure you have a fresh batch of herbs in you beforehand. And this time, don’t go so far.”

She looked at her sharply. ”I mean it Celeste. Do not stay in there too
long. When you feel your bones shifting, you get out of there. You understand?”

Celeste felt a phantom stab of the pain from earlier. Fear lanced through her mind, but she tried her best to ignore it. ”How long? How long was I down there?”

Tierra blinked. ”A full bell, I believe. Maybe a little longer.”

And the girl beamed.

x

[Celeste Arumen]

Her mind was at war again. She’d just died, maybe twice, and she was already back at it. There were still scales on her arm and she was reasonably certain her hair never changed back. Quills jutted from her head. Her hand was still hollow on one side. As she took this personal inventory, she sighed and with a tiny whisper, the Pit seemed to nod, sprouting fur on the backs of her feet, which she rubbed together to scratch at them.

’Thank you,’ she thought gratefully. ’I was cold.’

It moved to twist at her energy and sprout more fur on the tops of her thighs, the thick, bristling coat shooting up through her irritated pores. She moved to scratch at it with her jagged nails, but got a cramp in her chest. Panic, hysteria, it all tried to get a foothold at the slight pain, but she stoically ignored it. Celeste didn’t have time to be afraid. She had heard what they said.

If there was anything preferable to getting eaten, it was another heart attack.

Sighing, she leaned back against the Pit. Celeste couldn’t even recall the shape of her own face. Illia very helpfully provided a picture, but it didn’t seem to look like her. The image was strange, foreign, as if it was just another face and not one she recognized. That would have to be a model then. If she could perhaps reverse some of what was happening in the Pit, she might be able to do something about it.

Of course, now was not the time for that. The Pit grasped her one arm and pulled outward, stretching it longer until it hung past her knees. ’Thanks,’ she replied happily, scratching at the fur on her legs. ’I’m not mad at you, you know.’ Illia was listening with interest. ’My body was the one that forgot. You didn’t mean to make me overgive.’

There was a sympathetic silence. Was she really going mad?

’Anyway, I can’t stay too long, though it feels longer then before. You haven’t messed with my bones yet. Thank you. Maybe you’re just being nice.’

Another sympathetic silence.

’I thought so. Why is everyone so nice to me? Is it because I look weak? Small? Or am I just adorable?’

The Pit replied by very steadily growing her hair, growing it and growing it until it pooled on the ground. The teal cascade pleased her and the girl shrieked in childish delight, picking up handfuls of the stuff. Tierra peered frantically over the edge at the noise, sighing in relief after a moment or so.

Celeste glanced up with bright, golden eyes. ”Oh sorry!” She called. Tierra just smiled.

Some small, rational part of her brain reminded her to remain calm. It felt like she was regressing almost, back into the carefree throes of childhood. The previous, near-death experience however, had her anchored firmly to the ground. With a sigh, she released the fistfuls of hair, leaning back once more. No sense in worrying Tierra. She was the only one who could try and save her life, in the event something bad happened again.

She sat in silence for a while. The Pit toyed with her. As she felt her energy corkscrew as her spine began arching back and bending, she decided it was time to go. Honoring Tierra’s wishes, she hauled her altered body out of the Pit, rolling gratefully onto the dusty earth just beyond.

x

[Celeste Arumen]

Each time she went in, she held it together for longer. Celeste made small strides throughout the day, turning chimes into bells, inch by inch. She was proud and all, but it didn’t seem like enough. After all, she had days where as her companions had years to master the training. So by the time night fell, she was sitting in the Pit, having another silent conversation when the alien aura began interfering with her skeleton.

Annoyed, she inadvertently reached within to halt the transformation, but stopped herself. The thing that allowed her to continue in the first place was her state of relaxation, going with the manipulations of the Pit rather than against them. So instead, she stopped, feeling the feathering touch run along the backs of her forearms, accessing the energy there, moving to twist her bones in on themselves.

Going with the Pit rather than against it.

Celeste dared to try out an idea. What if rather than trying to resist the change, she tried to redirect it? What if she exerted a bit of influence on the direction of the morph while borrowing the energy of the Pit? That way, she’d never overgive and she’d never morph to something grotesque.

It was worth a shot.

Looking within at the process of transformation, she tried to envision the searching hand that sought to change her. It fingered at the djed of her bones, readying to twist the entire bundle, which would in turn unravel her tentative will. Instead, she applied pressure, not seeking her djed alone but rather, seeking the force that sought to change it. Like a gentle, guiding hand, she applied light pressure, pushing it elsewhere, perhaps to the color of her skin, away from the thick weave of her skeletal structure. Surprisingly, the hand complied, allowing her to guide it as she might a child, working together to create something altogether new. The brilliant threads bent slightly up, causing her flesh to darken.

And then, the force was gone. It was satisfied.

She looked down at her arms with incredulity. There were as straight as she’d left them. She’d done it, then. Celeste had successfully redirected the morph! She gasped, clasping both hands over her mouth. That was the secret! It’d take effort, but she could use the Pit as it used her.

The secret to Sahova: Use it as it uses you.

How could she have missed such an obvious thing? They said not to fight the change. Now she truly understood. The Pit and her were truly kindred spirits, collaborating like two artists and an easel. Maybe she could borrow the excess energy to undo some of the damage it initially did. She could get the crummy quills out of her forehead, to start. Maybe do some cosmetic work; last she saw, her nose had lengthened quite a bit and her eyes were small and dark.

Each time the place moved to touch her, she moved alongside, taking the aura by the hand and showing it the way. They quietly worked in tandem, Illia often providing her a mental image to reference, so she didn’t have to work from memory alone. First, they started by threading the energy of her brows thin, the gossamer strands resonating beautifully as both forces etched out each detail, hair by hair, until they were immaculate.

The Pit pressed, acting as the chisel, the brush and Celeste guided it, pushing ever so lightly behind. She used the blinding force of the place to easily shape her flesh from whence it came, forcing out the fractures in the djed and moving to repair the abnormalities, each of the sharp quills fading back into non-existence.

It reached out more and more often and so, she used it, recreating herself from the neck down. In fact, she could think of a thousand more fun morphs and models she wanted to try.

”Celeste!” A voice called from above. She broke her focus to look up at the frantic face of Tierra. But the woman stopped, gaping in astonishment for a moment, before she snapped her mouth smartly shut. It seemed that whatever she saw, she was at a loss. ”Do I look alright?” Celeste asked conversationally.

”You look better. I thought you were dead and I… I… You’ve been down there for almost three whole bells.”

She beamed. That was double the time she’d been in before! Had it really been that long?

”Three?” She echoed excitedly. The Pit reached forth. She felt it beseech her. Celeste closed her eyes once more, moving her focus to the area of djed it brushed along, redirecting it to tops of her knees, where the knobbiness she’d loathed for all her life was shaped out of the djed. It was largely improvisation; it’d never occurred to Celeste before to reshape her knees, because she couldn’t hold it. But now she was the morph, the change. She could do anything.

Well, almost anything. The kneecap looked unnaturally smooth. She sighed. ”I’m trying new things,” she called up to the Eypharian. ”Do you mind if I take a look at your knees?”

Stunned, Tierra simply began to laugh.

x

[Strange]

e

Celeste Arumen

Skills

Skill Name	Experience
Familiary	1 XP
Morphing	2 XP

Lores

Familiary: Teaching Your Familiar About Death
The Pit: A Lethal Friend?
The Pit: Redirecting the Morph
The Secret to Sahova: Use it as it Uses You?

Comments :

This was an awesome thread and a great turning point for Celeste. She's starting to get the idea behind the Pit. I liked the showing of consequences here and the realistic portrayal of her near-death experience. I especially found the moments between Illias and Celeste rather touching. Trying to teach her about death and she only sort of understood it almost brought a tear to my eye. Keep up the good work.

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