Go Home.

[Ssezzkero]

18th of Winter, 516AV

The rain picked up, and so did the wind. The drops were no longer falling down, they came at an angle from the east. She could smell the brine from the ocean on it, and her hair picked up its dance in response. Sharp locks whipped across her face, sticking to the wet placed and tangling in her lashes.

Go home. The wind seemed to whisper to her, but she had nowhere else to go. She couldn't stay in Nyka, not after finding her mother. She couldn't return to the Spires, she didn't know how. Syliras was a shykehole of deplorables, and she was too embarrassed to return to Riverfall. Go home. Her brother was in Alvadas, but she hadn't spent enough time in the city to consider it home. She had no home. Go home. The wind did not give up, encouraging the rain to beat her shoulders until they stung and she could no longer see past the wet hair the blinded her.

For the first time in a very long time, Makutsi and Zulrav were not kind to her. The two danced in the storm and did not welcome their daughter to them. Instead she stood isolated in the streets, the grey filter of the clouds obscuring the last of the sun. For a brief moment the snake entertained the thought of staying out in the night time. Letting the creatures from the depths take her as they had taken her mother, for she had no reason to stay.

You will not think this way. She chastised herself, her heart beginning to pick up as she realized where her thoughts were going.

Go home. Zulrav urged once more, and she finally listened. She did not want to think those dark thoughts which could end her life. She was not that kind of person. She was not weak. Go-

[Ssezzkero]

Sezkero slammed the door on the wind, cutting off the God's whispers. Inside the wooden walls of her temporary dwelling his soft whispers morphed and bent into shrill howls of anger. He was angry with her.

The snake paused, letting the darkness of the room soak into her, the wetness of her skirt dripping into a pycon lake beneath her. In only a few ticks the shivers begun, and she could not stop her teeth from rattling. Yet the snake welcomed the pain. She hadn't felt much in so long, she needed this storm to wake her up.

Yet Makutsi had no place in her dwelling. No matter how she loved her Goddess, the snake let her thoughts wander to darker Gods as she begun moving again. She was religious, but she had never opted to choose a side. She did not understand the silly battle of light and dark that many Mizaharians claimed to rage. She understood the domain of the deities, and could not deny the chaos that Rhysol created or the light that Yahal brought. Still she sided with nature. She liked those who cared little for the mortals beneath them, more concerned with the awesome events of nature. So the Iyvess generally gave very little thoughts, but as she was beginning to feel again, Sezkero had to wonder which God was giving her this realization.

As she picked up the flint and steel, her hands clapped the items together loudly, and it took most of her concentration to be able to still her fingers long enough to get a spark going. The lighting cloth caught flame, and Sezkero quickly picked it up to place it near the candle, letting the fire spread to the wick. Once it did, she waved the cloth, putting it out for use another time. Still shaking as if the earth was quaking beneath her, the snake glided to the other side of the room, lighting the candle by her bed as well before scooping up the flint and steel once more to pay attention to the fire place.

[Ssezzkero]

It was even harder. She had dry wood, but the storm had been raging all day and the humidity made it considerably more difficult for the tinder to catch. Once it did she carefully placed them between the two logs, waiting until they caught before abandoning the fire to let it spread.

Perhaps Ivak had a hand in dragging her out of this. The God of fire also ruled over emotions. She was not a cold person, nor was she overly sensitive, but Sezkero had never really thought about emotions. Spending the last three seasons in depression may have changed her. Perhaps he would aide her in this? Sezkero glanced at the fire, but as spiritual as she was, she felt no allegiance to Ivak. It could not possibly be him. Her tiny frame still rattled vigorously, but she had clamped her jaw to give her head a rest, as it was now growing sore. In an effort to help herself the snake stripped from her clothes, immediately pulling a blanket from her bed and wrapping it around herself.

Holding the blanket together with one hand, she pick her dress up, laying it over the end of the chair. She pulled the chair closer to the fire to let it dry, which revealed the wash bucket tucked neatly below the desk. She usually went to the bathhouse, when she remembered to bathe. The snake often forgot these things, going nearly a moon before the stench became to much. She had quit her job, she wasn't bathing, she knew no one in this foreign city, and she was not eating. If Ivak could not help her with this depression, who would?

[Ssezzkero]

Perhaps it was Leth who demanded her attention. Struggling to pull the bucket from under the desk, Sezkero realized she did not speak to the moon as often as she used to. After leaving her mother she often relied on him to help her sort through the mayhem in her life, before she found the tranquility that he did. Stumbling over to the faucet, the Iyvess slowly pumped water into the bucket. She was not weak, but the shivering had already made her muscles sore, weakening her in the process.

Leth would help her reflect on what had brought her here, wouldn't he? As soon as she thought that, Sezkero laughed out load. It was not her usual tinkling chime, rather a shaken and hoarse mocking tone. Who was she mocking? Herself? Of course. She knew exactly what had brought her to this headspace, it was the demise of her mother. The demise of her abuser, and of her neglector. She had learned of the gruesome death, and instead of exhilarating her, it had ruined her. Leth would not looked kindly on this, and she could not turn to him for it. Would any God look kindly on her for this weakness?

The blanket dropped from her shoulders as she lifted the water-heavy bucket, pushing all her strength into her back to carry it to the other side of the room. As quickly as her shaking fingers would allow the snake hooked it above the fire, letting the flames heat up the metal, then the water inside. She knew it would be a while, but she quickly retrieved her blanket, collapsing onto her bed with the effort. Her jaw was sore now, and tears were falling down her face. Isolation truly was unbearable, and her current freezing state did not help. Not only were there no people she could lean on, but the Iyvess could not even find the right deity that would support her.

Would Avalis? The Goddess of vision could lend her the sight to see a better future. To know that her life will look up, that she will have a purpose. Could Avalis reveal to her that she will not waste her life in this forsaken city? Before she had completely finished the thought, she knew the answer. Avalis would not help her, for the future would not always be pleasant.

[Ssezzkero]

So then give me the tools to pretend. She thought to herself. If she could not be certain that she would lift herself from this mess, could she at least create a delusion of happiness? Anything to release her from this disease of her mind. Anything.

Anything…

Ionu.

Ionu would not help her. Ionu would not secure her well-being or lift her from depression. Ionu would not do anything for this inconsequential Iyvess who had never done anything for Ionu. Yet Ionu was who her thoughts focused on. Perhaps it was this shaking, delirious state which made her place her faith in the Trickster. Perhaps it was the desperate need to be well again. Perhaps it was because she was not putting her faith in Ionu at all. She was not a changed woman, she would not begin preaching the verse of Illusion any time soon, but she would use it. She could pretend, she could fake it. She could fool others into believing what she knew not to be true. Eventually… she could fool herself into believing it as well. Was that not the Trickster's specialty? Perhaps she would not receive help from the mysterious God, but she would learn from them.

Ionu. I come to you only this once in thanks. For doing what my deities could not for me. For lying to me. She could not mutter the prayer, for she feared she would bite her tongue off. Where tears leaked from her eyes, they stung with cold, and she was in agony. As she finished her prayer, the rain picked up outside, tearing at the house, beating at the walls and threatening the foundation. Was Makutsi mad at her? She couldn't be. The Rain did not worry herself with the moods of her followers. Perhaps Ionu didn't worry themselves either, but Sezkero was grateful nonetheless. She had found a point. Perhaps it was vision, or happiness, or hope, but it was a promise. The promise of a lie that she could achieve. Or the lie that she could not achieve. It was the promise of uncertainty, and at the moment, it was everything to the snake.

[Kaleidoscope]

Grades Pending

Hello Sezkero, unfortunately your grades are withheld until you have paid your living expenses for Winter 516. Once that's done, please PM me and I will grade your thread.

-Beautiful boxcode credits go to Aislyn!