Dear Joah,
My situation with the Omega Institute has become untenable. Indeed, I now have the clarity to see that it was my great mistake returning to the OI, that day you found me at the hospital. Effective, immediately, I am tendering my resignation with the OI. I can no longer believe in, nor serve, nor defend, an organization that is so riddled with corruption and deceit.
I am whole, and I see this now.
I am whole, and I hereby renounce all ties to my Sire. No longer will I be known as the blood Chylde of Omega. I now serve another mistress, an infinitely greater being, and one who is not fickle and who took the time to properly mentor me. And, though not affectionate, Mother Hydra is just. I am reborn, from the benthic chrysalis that lay so long in the library basement. Never again will Omega punish me for her failings as my blood mother.
I am now whole. Sariel's seed has bloomed, during my time in the halls of Y'ha-rthyneil. The Watchmaker has no hold on me. I will never again serve as a portal.
As you are now bound to me, and as I depend upon you for sustenance, you know that I need you with me. However, I am granting you the ability to make that decision for yourself. I have been forced down too many paths to now force you.
I have taken with me certain files, and deleted the electronic copies of those files, specifically all those pertaining to OI Case No. 80501 and to the matter of the false priests recently masquerading as servents of "Dagon." This is my concern, and nothing for the OI to worry itself with. Morever, I have managed to wrest from the Old Woman that shard of identity she recently stole from me while I assisted in the healing of the incubus. The Countess Báthory Erzsébet is once again within me. A shame about the damage to the library, but it's nothing a good carpenter can't fix. However, I have left the Old Woman hungry.
Praetor, I will now entrust this letter to your capable hands. You will know how to reach me, should you wish.
N
Showing posts with label The Old Woman in the Walls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Old Woman in the Walls. Show all posts
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
She Tears Herself
It’s my fault. Somehow, things have turned upside down. Rhaven and Nareth tried to heal Severus after he savaged himself. My fault, again. He wouldn’t have done so if I hadn’t encouraged Redd to touch him, to determine by his degree of revulsion and longing whether she had a soul. But touch she did and as a result he tore himself. I assented to his healing. Nareth, this Nareth-Not Nareth Chylde, asked permission. I told her yes, use the passion of Larissa. Take it from the flames. Lar had been able to heal Severus once before, working in tandem with Rhaven. I couldn’t leave him lying eviscerated on the Library floor.
The healing worked, or worked as well as it ever does given Severus’ perpetual wounds. But what remained of Larissa was lost forever. Completely destroyed. That passion had been all that remained of her mortal form, lingering where the wards once stood, in the flames of the hearth. When it was taken, the Old Woman in the Walls shook. She nearly tore the building apart, threatening all of us in her charge, until she took me through the flame, reached out and snatched the passion of one less gentle and loving from the mind of Nareth: the Countess Báthory. Erzsébet. Now I wonder what I have done. Where once the heart of the flame was Eros, it is now bloodlust. My fault.
It is a sad and bitter irony that now Severus is feeding, while I am not. He found a lycan, a willing one, and somehow the healing impelled him forward to a place where no amount of pleading on my part had been able to take him. I could have compelled him, but I would never have done so, so great is his self-loathing as an Incubus. But who will impel me? I’m bone weary and ravenous. I haven’t fed since the time of Pestilence and some avid spirit still stirs insatiate within me. I nearly killed Grr. I pulled from him to the point of blindness and hemorrhage. What if I do it again? The dark yet whispers to me and I hear the pan flute. Jack’s blade yet sings and its twin calls louder. I touch the stone of Eden in my pocket and wonder was I ever in the Garden?
The healing worked, or worked as well as it ever does given Severus’ perpetual wounds. But what remained of Larissa was lost forever. Completely destroyed. That passion had been all that remained of her mortal form, lingering where the wards once stood, in the flames of the hearth. When it was taken, the Old Woman in the Walls shook. She nearly tore the building apart, threatening all of us in her charge, until she took me through the flame, reached out and snatched the passion of one less gentle and loving from the mind of Nareth: the Countess Báthory. Erzsébet. Now I wonder what I have done. Where once the heart of the flame was Eros, it is now bloodlust. My fault.
It is a sad and bitter irony that now Severus is feeding, while I am not. He found a lycan, a willing one, and somehow the healing impelled him forward to a place where no amount of pleading on my part had been able to take him. I could have compelled him, but I would never have done so, so great is his self-loathing as an Incubus. But who will impel me? I’m bone weary and ravenous. I haven’t fed since the time of Pestilence and some avid spirit still stirs insatiate within me. I nearly killed Grr. I pulled from him to the point of blindness and hemorrhage. What if I do it again? The dark yet whispers to me and I hear the pan flute. Jack’s blade yet sings and its twin calls louder. I touch the stone of Eden in my pocket and wonder was I ever in the Garden?
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