The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

2nd of Cylus 720

This is where the majority of dreaming threads will take place.

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Sybil Malach
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The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]



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I
2nd of Cylus, 720


Something was new. Different. Strange.

In the darkness of Sybil's dream, their eyes finally opened. Eyes shifting among the inky blackness, they had no form. In this one moment, they were one with something... Something in which they felt the raw potential emanate from. Sybil could feel their brain laced into the darkness that surrounded them, brocaded into an intimate pattern upon the dream itself. Where once there was a fog over their senses, there was now clarity. An understanding. Within the darkness, the chaos of Emea was where it was most potent. At the very least, their dream was... Different. Rather than wet paper, it felt as though it was made of clay.

Controlled chaos was within the dream. It had boundaries that weren't defined by simple mathematics. As their hands reached out, Sybil could feel the sphere of influence shrink. As they drew back into their body, it expanded. There were distinct boundaries, but how they were defined was something that was determined by how much space they inhabited. It was as though they were submerged in a pool of water within a fleshy cavity.

Sybil's mind began to take the clay of the dream. The weaving that connected the base of their skull to the darkness began to create a tapestry, inner machinations beginning to work tirelessly. Sybil's sight was enveloped by nothing. They did not bother to think of anything outside of what was to come. Their mind emptied to allow the thoughts to swim, the very dream itself becoming a primordial soup of raw sensation and images as they entered the trance.

The first to be painted was the dream's sky. Sybil envisioned an orb of light, burning away the darkness. Rather than the very tip of the orb being the brightest, it was the ring around the upper center, bathing the dream in twilight.

Sybil's foot began to touch something. Hard stone. Inky black marble began to sprout out from where their feet interacted with the dream itself. Flecks of opalescence gave it a greyish color as it spread into an octagonal shape.

At every corner, a column of the same stone rose up. Sybil's mind tilted as it slid the design in symmetric fashion. The cage's walls were made out of intersecting slopes of thin rails, never rising above the band of light shining down. There was no roof to this place. The only thing that opened this area to the outside world were two gaping gates: they led nowhere and served no other purpose than as a means of entry into this dream.


Finally, Sybil's eyes opened. Their eyes blinked, as they allowed the amber hue to take their eyes once more, entering another trance. Rather than one of raw emotion and creativity, they paused, mind stalling, gauging the sensation of this place with their own mind. It was... Different. It was... Before this, the connection of their mind to their own dreams felt like papier-mache. Now... It was still wet clay, but it was something else entirely. Something... New.

What was happening? As Sybil's mind slipped through the trance, they couldn't help but stare up at the dark sky. They had... Accidentally copied how the Veil looked to them. But rather than there being glorious fire... Everything was muted. They could feel the boundaries of their dream. This half-exposed cage was... Not the size of a castle. No, the dream itself wasn't even that large. It was roughly the size of a large workshop. And this... They could not push.

The frameworks were in place, as Sybil's bare foot touched the cold stone. The texture was glossy, smooth. Confusing.
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word count: 628
"No mass graves."

-Vri 720, scolding Sybil for disposing of necromancers.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret

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Woe
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Re: The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

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Would there ever be a moment when their eyes, weren’t on him? Their legs skittering within earshot?

As one who’d grown up under the auspices of a Webspinner, Woe had been taught to respect the spider. And he had, he still did. It existence was bent toward a clever entrapment of its prey, exhibiting virtues of patience, temperance, and ingenuity. It built its web carefully, not a strand of silk set out of place. All of it for the care of one prey animal, a fly, a roach, in the case of some larger specimen, even mice.

Yet of late Woe had felt their eyes looking on him with less favor, more distrust and dare he even think it, suspicions of betrayal? Yes he’d informed against his own divine mother, his only family, as far as he knew. Surely she knew of this, and had sent her other children to spy on him. Every moment he felt their eyes on the back of his neck, his skin crawled with the impression of their legs upon it. He knew he was walking a razor’s edge, and he must behave himself, lest Mother send punishment towards him.

His one refuge, or so he thought it as such, was the realm of dreams. He only rarely felt their presence in that space between reality and imagination. Where the two concepts met in the middle, and found a compromise that fit into neither world, yet was of both.

He found himself in such a space, after following Sybil’s directions as detailed in their letter. Cylus was one of his favorite seasons, oddly enough. The light of the moon and the darkness made him feel energized, even back when he was just a slave, untouched by arcana or the divine grace of his Mother. Something about that lone sentinel, brightly shining upon the world set his soul alight.

His feet touched the smooth ground, in what appeared to be a workshop? A space under construction certainly. He only had to turn a few times, in order to find the person he was seeking out. As he did so, his spark instinctively churned at the sight of another living mind. Yet he kept it in check, not allowing it the slightest free reign. Over the past season, his willpower had outpaced the growth of his spark. To the point where he was beginning to get a grip on it’s urgent tugging at the edges of his mind.

Woe nodded his head toward Sybil. ”Thank you for seeing me. I believe I owe you a token of trust, for this courtesy. My real name is not Wolstan Rand, although I would ask you kindly keep that to yourself. That is a name I took up to avoid suspicion in Ne’haer and tracking by certain enemies I have. My real name is Woe.”


word count: 482
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Sybil Malach
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Re: The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

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II
2nd of Cylus, 720


As Woe entered the dream, the half-cage greeted him. The octagonal prison was open to the sky, edges shining with a distant light, as though surrounded by a doughnut sun. The rim was hard to look at, but everything else was easy.

Sybil's ears perked as Woe stepped through one of the gates. Outlines of eyes in opalescent chalk peered out from the walls, fading into existence as Sybil's mind noticed the entrance of Woe. A slow breath left their lips. Waves of creation passed through Sybil's mind, registering the sensations of the floor. The stone grates that surrounded the two in this geometric shape crossed once more, ending in a confusing pattern that allowed light through.

Sybil's head slowly turned to settle upon Woe, as he tread within their domain. Slowly, their eyelids blinked as they considered him. They paused for a long time, as a slight upward divot began to form where they were standing. The circle of a basin began to rise, made of black metal tipped in silver. It took some time for it to fully take shape, before Sybil stepped out from it. And yet... From the very bottom of the basin, oil began to flow within it, filling it halfway.

"This place should be fine enough." Sybil said, placing a hand on their hip. It was clear that their mind wasn't focused on keeping their form human. Instead, Sybil's body appeared more like a fire sprite than anything else, "I've started to feel more... In tune with the dreams. I feel as though... Something is changing. The walls of this dream feel as though they're... A part of something attached to me now. I think I should be able to tell if someone enters."

Though, Sybil began to blankly blink at the information being readily given.

"I don't care all that much about your enemies. As long as they keep their distance from me, you can make as many as you want." Sybil added, their tone easy. Pupils glancing towards Woe, it's clear that they didn't particularly care if he was a figure of some amount of infamy. At least... For the moment, "Your name is safe with me, regardless. I've no reason to drag your business into mine."

"... You mentioned that you wanted to consult me about something, over the letter?" Sybil asked, as patterns began to rise and dip within the black marble floor. Against Sybil's bare feet... It seemed like it was being changed to a specific texture, though to either of them within the dream, the exact thing that Sybil was looking for was unknown.
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word count: 454
"No mass graves."

-Vri 720, scolding Sybil for disposing of necromancers.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret
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Woe
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Re: The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

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Woe felt himself awaken to lucidity almost as soon as he entered their vicinity. It was a strange sensation, yet he didn't resist that pull into mindfulness of his surroundings, however dangerous it might be with his spark churning in the presence of a fresh mind.

"There's something different about this place." Woe remarked as he entered the half-cage. It appeared like a dark scaffolding, something under construction and being slowly built up into... something else. And it certainly was unlike anything he'd experienced in a dream. Most of his had been either drawn from memory or vague visions of what might be cobbled from memories of places he'd been.

"How did you draw me here, without bringing me yourself? Are you able to summon anyone you know here?" Woe still was very ignorant to the world of dreams. For all his travels, he'd been tugged along by someone else more often than not. Whether it was Magpie and him stumbling into the Immortal domain of U'frek, or meeting what he believed was the dreaming mind of Professor Thetys, or Sybil, as he now recognized as the fiery being standing in front of him, a stoic presence in the middle of a surreal landscape building up their own personal domain?

They mentioned they did not care about his enemies, which was fair. Yet they might care, if the spiders had a mind or capability of watching him in this place. He'd become paranoid of late, and wondering if his Lethroda mark or status as her son allowed Sintra to spy his dreams. Yet perhaps Sybil's distance from Sintra and his being here as a guest would keep that dangerous eye at bay, behind a veil.

"... You mentioned that you wanted to consult me about something, over the letter?"

So they came to the matter directly, which suited Woe fine. Although he preferred more maneuvering before getting where he was headed in a conversation, he could appreciate the economy of a straight approach. "I have an initiate."

Woe admitted. He didn't know what Sybil's stance was on the proliferation of magic. Like as not, they were as prejudiced and despised mages as most people did. Although Woe didn't want to make assumptions, the crux of his problem might hinge on their understanding of the arcane nature of his problem.

"I fear for their sanity, and I haven't heard from them or seen them in over a season." Woe moved into the half-cage, admiring the scaffolding with curiosity, "The child spark I imparted was... greedy. It tore off a part of my soul in my effort to protect them as I initiated them. Well part of my 'soul' may be the wrong term... There's... a mess of threads that lies at our emotional center. Various hues, shapes, and tapestries that wrap around and compose the threads, presenting images, and such and so forth. Using my observation of these patterns and hues I can form an impression of what is on a person's thoughts, what they feel, and possibly clues to what they think."

Woe paused, realizing he was oversharing once more. Yet he didn't care. For his own life was existing on borrowed time. He cared now only for the initiate, and the one between them. "I have good insight into emotional threads, I've always been an astute observer of behavior. Yet what I've seen in them worries me. What I see in myself worries me. I wonder if it might be possible, outside the intervention of divinity, to rebuild one's mind or emotional threadwork." He shook his head, "I don't know why I asked you. I have few contacts that I can call on, and you seemed my best bet, a potentially neutral party..."

word count: 644
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Re: The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

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III
2nd of Cylus, 720


"You came here of your own volition. I had no say in that." Sybil finally answered, as they looked to the side, towards Woe. Though their features were alien within this dream, it was clear and obvious where they were looking, and they made no attempt at hiding. It was as though they had forgotten the man's face, though they didn't bother to approach him much closer. Their mind was preoccupied with something, something that required standing still, apparently.

What was slowly forming was something that couldn't exist in the real world. It was based in very little architectural sense. As the stone pillars rose at the edges, just slightly, it became obvious that once they branched out in a triangular shape that this wall was fairly weak, and while it might look slightly aesthetically pleasing... Once gravity and weight factored in, either the walls would crumble, or would be so weak that it couldn't keep much in or out of it.

Slowly blinking, Sybil's eyes away from Woe. The sconce at the center began to light with a brilliant, blue flame. Divots began to form into the ground, allowing the oil to spread out in symmetric planes, without fear of burning others.

As Woe explained his situation, their mind was merely affirmed of several biases. Though they weren't as violent as they could have been, the look of distaste was clear upon their face. Sybil had a few choice words they could've said. Words that they chose not to say, until Woe was finished. Their mind slowly turned to the necromancers that they had put down for their addiction to power. They hoped that this would not need a repeat of the actions taken there.

"... Yes. That tends to be how emotions work. Everything is not as cut and dry as simple associations and what one feels in the moment." Sybil affirms, as their eyes cast to the side, back towards Woe, "Though playing with such things as though they are toys... Can be far more dangerous for yourself than your target, if you don't understand what it is that you're touching and prodding."

Though the implications of Woe's statements remained imprinted upon their mind, the bulk of the message was slowly digested. Eyes returning to the flame, they considered it. There were ways of handling people who had gone astray in ways like this. But there was something missing from the equation. Just as Woe had described the state of one's mind, there were things that could lead to these sorts of outcomes that behave similarly.

"If you have good insight into the behaviors of others, and imparted... This... Ability, to another... Should you not have seen something like this coming?" Sybil finally asked the question that was hanging upon their mind. The half cage began to light up with blue flames, dividing the room. If one were to touch them, they would not burn, instead they would impart a seething chill that was in strict defiance to what one would expect.

Sybil's mind had lost focus, and imparted the opposite property into the flames.

Reaching out a hand into one of the dividers of flame, they tested the temperature. Noticing their error, their eyebrows knit. They intended for it to be merely lukewarm. This was the inverse to what they hoped to happen. The situation at hand was affecting them in a way that created a strange... Unfocused, sensation.

"You brought another instance of great power into this world." Sybil affirmed, as they began to increase the temperature of the dividers. If one were to look down upon this place, it would look like an octagonal wagon wheel with strange, shimmering, blue spokes, "Yet you tell me that you've not only lost someone who is lightly trained... But they're defying the observations that you'd had of them."
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word count: 660
"No mass graves."

-Vri 720, scolding Sybil for disposing of necromancers.

NPCs: Karlsson, Margaret
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Re: The Caliginous Spire I [Construction]

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woe

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Notes: Oh man, right off the bat you hit us with a great build up and explanation for Woe seeing his dreamstate as his sanctuary. Your writing is poignat and excellent and you offer great insight into Woe and his character with very little -- which is quite a masterful thing to accomplish. I also enjoyed how you wrote his spark, showing both its nature as well as the relationship between it and its host and how Woe handles it - even in this dreamstate.

Your descriptions are beautifully written as is the explanation of the plight he finds himself in. Hos emotions feel so raw and true and I feel for him for his concern over his intiate. It's a shame the thread didn't get any further - I would have loved to have read more. Your command of Woe and everything about him is clear and oh so wonderful to see when you really let us see it and him in action. I'm glad I got to have this glimpse <3


Thanks for the read and enjoy your rewards! Do let me know if you have any questions or concerns regarding your review.
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