Eris, the Fallen One

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little knight
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Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Mon Sep 13, 2010 8:33 pm

To walk the path of an immortal, the price you pay may very well be your soul. But after payed, you can bare your fangs against even the gods. I once was mortal, aging ever so slowly, clawling ever so closer to Yoma's cold embrace. But on that day when I could have passed well into her realm, I smiled, and instead spat in her eye. Death holds no more threat to me than an ant.

I can't really recall my life before I was treated like an object. By my mother, my father, and to the people they called friends. Indeed, I was never loved as a daughter, just as the final product of a consumation between a prostitute and her favorite client. I was a doll, dressed and treated as a favored decoration. I was spoken to as such, and in the end, I was thrown away once I had proven to be dangerous decour.

*************************************

Standing near by, the grey eyed child stared at the two adults. A man and woman, both dressed in finery befitting that of high society; indeed, the apartment itself could have belonged to a lesser noble staying in town. As for the dark haired, light eyed child, she was dressed similiar to the mother, although lacking the low neckline that the woman wore.

Despite the decour, there was no nobility within the residence. Not even the two adults were at a noble pursuit. In all actuality, it was a brothel dressed in a pretty pink bow. And one that was slowly unraveling. The wide eyed girl looked at the two adults exchange, watching it become angrier, several times the woman pointed at the girl, which elicited the girl to hug onto the brown teddybear she had been given by the man on her third birthday. The girl was five now, and despite the noticably resemblence between the two adults, neither one had ever treated her as a daughter. In fact, the man was explaining why he couldn't take her in.

What the girl knew of the man was that he was her father. He was middle aged, and owned a very successful shipping company that shipped out mana stones to other countries. Due to the rarity and fragility, the process payed a fortune for each shipment. He had the grey eyes that they girl had inherited, and sandy blonde hair, and despite his generally kind smile, whenever the girl had approached him for affection, he had brushed it off, often citing it was improper.

As for the woman, that was the girl's mother. She was part Dran'nafod, but had little to do with protecting life. The woman had always been a high class prostitute, her elemental heritage giving her beauty beyond the average woman and even putting most of the more attractive ones to shame. She had dark colored hair and green eyes, and her ears were elongaged with a point to them. The woman had many clients, but had cancelled most of them when she had become pregnant, remaining 'monogomous' to the merchant, the girl could only guess due to potential marrying into a rich situation. As for thier relationship, the woman only treated the girl as a fashion accessory, often dressing her similiar to her own style, although due to age often far more conservatively. The girl hated her mother, her mother beat her when she cried, when she tried to get attention, or if she asked any questions that the mother didn't want to answer. Right now, she was angry, and pointing at the girl, mouthing "That brat's fault!" repeatidly.

The girl was a mix between the two adults, grey eyed and ark haired with wide, innocent eyes and a small, doll like mouth. She was quiet, a learned trait for getting hit whenever she spoke up, or cried, although usually healed with the mother's small perchant for life elementalism. Her ears were pointed, but not long enough to be pronounced. The mother had put make up on the child, accentuating the girl's alabaster skin, and the child appeared almost like a living doll.

The man gave a slight shrug at the end of the arguement, leaving the woman even angrier. The girl stood doe eyed, watching the man leave. As the door closed, the mother closed the distance between the sofa and her daughter, and raised her hand with a scowl. Pain ensued, and screaming as well. The girl took the blows without a word, eventually falling to the ground, bloodied. The mother picked up the limp form, took it to the door, and tossed it outside, exclaiming the child the cause of all her problems. The winter air touched the girl's fresh wounds.

It was at the age of 6 that Eris was homeless, an event she would repress most of her life.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Mon Sep 13, 2010 9:19 pm

Its amusing that my precognition took on form after I was kicked out of my home. I still recall the night terrors, repeatidly seeing my frozen corpse on the side of some street. Most of my early visions was of my death, either from exposure to the cold, or from starvation. Sometimes I was stabbed, or beaten by other street folk, and my remains would be discovered and pitied, but left to rot. Indeed, without control I was always shown the grimist outcome to every day life, although incidently, the desperation it inspired in me likely lead to my survival. Still, most of my childhood was marked by night terrors, hunger, and desperation.

**********************************

Clutching her teddybear fearfully with one hand, Eris dug through the garbage. It was summer now, she had managed to survive through winter by finding an entrence to the sewer and living there. While the smell had initially been enough to cause her to gag often, she eventually had become used to it. But right now, she was more interested in food. She hadn't eaten in three days, and she was beginning to starve. Finding a piece of meat, despite the mold, she devoured it hungrily, following it with an apple core that had been thrown away else where. With what would likely be her weekly meal, the child moved from the alley to the streets. She had a vision last night of getting stabbed in an alley similiar to the one she had just been in, and was trying to avoid it. Then again, the night before she had dreamed about gettng run over by a horse. So the girl looked about franticly, looking for any potential horses that could be heading her way. She clung to the side of the building, looking up from time to time at the windows.

Several merchants gived her dark looks, remembering her failed attempts at stealing from them. Eris had tried thievery, but had proven to be a poor theif. The only reason her hands remained in tact was due to her innocent demeanor, and the frantic way she looked about. She had heard several people refer to her as touched in the head due to the fearful looks she cast everywhere. None of them knew that the girl hadn't had a normal dream in months.. in years actually. She had become a fixture. The crazy little girl who scurried around like a mouse being chased by a cat. It was pity that allowed her to live on, however. A few of the merchants occationally gave her food, or coin to buy some. None had taken her in. Despite her good looks, nobody wanted a crazy child.

Another attempt had been at her mother's trade. While the prospect had terrified Eris, it had proven fruitless. She was still under puberty, and despite a cute face, no man wanted to bed her. At least none that had come across her. She had given up and had stayed to begging, that at least, seemed marginally successful. Still, she was constantly starving, and she knew eventually it would catch up to her. Her dreams warned her of that far to often.

Moving across the street, she looked fearfully each direction before scurrying across quickly to avoid impending death. So concerned about invisable terrors that she ran headlong into a middle aged man, with light orange robes with arcane decour. The man gave a yep of surprise, looking around for the offender, until he came across the little girl who had run into him. Eris only stared up at him, wide eyed, waiting for him to strike her down. Most people did. "Well, what are you doing, little girl?"

Eris didn't respond, and cringed lightly when he rubbed his hand through her hair. The man saw something in the girl, while she wasn't much now, once she hit puberty the sorcerer could tell she would be a looker. Despite the smell, and the dirt, he could see a potential servant in her that would be eternally grateful for the least bit of kindness. "Tell me, do you want to eat something?"

After a few moments of standing silently, Eris finally nodded. The man took her hand, and started leading her back to his home.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Tue Sep 14, 2010 4:30 pm

I knew well enough that the person who took me in had less than altruistic goals, but this realization came well after I went there. I recognized his looks as sizing my form up, I recognized that from my mother's own gazes at potential clients. Still, I was fed, clothed, and kept out of the cold. I was once again kept, but not quite as a doll like I was before. More like, something valuable you were waiting on to hatch.

During the first few years, I fully developed my precognition, never telling anyone. Instead of it being manifested in sleep, I could bring them on if I focused hard enough. I began to sleep normally, although I still remained rather fearful of my surroundings. Despite control, I still would occationally recieve images of my death, although they were purely accidental now. I was relatively safe. It was also during this period I first discovered magic. After that, I went from something that was to be waited on, to a novelty.

************************************************

Eris sat in the study, her wide grey eyes looking around at all the books. She had been left in here while the master was out, the maid not wanting to deal with her. While the maid had assumed that the girl was illiterate, she felt that maybe pictures could prove mildly entertaining, not that the woman cared if Eris was entertained.

But Eris was literate, she had been thought that much, at least. Her mother said that only idiots were illiterate, so she taught the girl. Moving over to one of the books, she picked one that had some circle on it, although she didn't recognize the symbol for what it was. Moving over to the table she had been sitting at, she opened it up. It took a few moments, but the girl realized she could barely understand the book. It wasn't a story book, it was talking about practice, summoning great things, or drawing from mana stones. She knew what a mana stone, but had little knowledge of rituals beyond what was known by the general populace. After a few chapters, she started to understand some of what the book was talking about, but wrinkling her nose, she returned it to the shelf. While she looked for something to read, she could only see books that had a similiar theme. After several of these books, losing interest after a few pages, she found one that talked not of summoning, but of raw mana manipulation. Looking through the pages, time passed quickly, and soon enough Eris found herself wanting to practice what she had read. Looking at the words, and the gestures, she said them alloud, targeting a vace that sat neatly on the table. "Let the mana of creation becomes the fires of malbolge..."

It was little more than a whisper, and at the end of it, the vace remained in tact. Frowning, she moved back to the book, looking it over, before trying again. Failing once more, she continued this...

"You put her in the library? Well, its probably not a problem..." The sorcerer shrugged... just then, the sound of a small explosion came from the study, botht he maid and the sorcerer made thier way to the room. What they saw was a grey eyed girl standing several meteres away from a ruined table, holding a book, and looking terribly frightened at what she had done. Looking over, she dropped the book and cringed, expecting a blow. Looking at the ruined bench and table, the sorcerer scratched his head. "I could be wrong about nothing being wrong with it...."

After a few hours, and the room had been cleaned up, Eris had been sent to her room. "Should we enroll her in the academy, sir? She seems to have some talent, she managed to learn a fire spell in a few hours."

"No, its fine. I didn't take her for an apprentice, I don't really intend to put that much effort into her training." The sorcerer said passively, and the maid grimaced, noting what he had indeed intended the girl for. "I'll teach her enough not to blow up my house again. The basics should be enough."

Thus Eris was taught by the sorcerer himself, learning basic magic, although when his back was turned she returned to the books she had been studying before. The feeling of helplessness she had felt while on the streets had been torn away the moment she had blown up the table. And now that she had a taste of that power, she wanted nothing more to indulge in it more. She would not be helpless any more.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Wed Sep 15, 2010 1:00 pm

Its amazing how wounds inflicted by someone you've grown to trust are the most brutal. While I was with my mother, I grew aware that I would take a beating if she became angry, even if I wasn't involved with the situation. I always expected it, which made me a bit more numb to the pain. After it was over, I would gauge my wounds, and wait for her to angrily come back and treat them, usually putting more make up, painfully to the most part, and they would become hidden under whatever she put over them. But when the man who had clothed, housed, and fed me... acted as my savior... it only took one act of betrayal to destroy me. Perhaps the most bitter thing about the experiance, is that I knew it was comming weeks in advance...

******************************************************************
Focusing the spell, the ice shard held in place, force of will keeping it from melting, and in place. It took a great deal of concentration, but Eris held it, her grey eyes unflinching, and her face twisted slightly in effort. After a few moments, she exhaled her breath, and the ice fell to the ground, shattering, and melting against the heat of the courtyard. She came here often to practice control, it didn't get in anyone's way, and the enclosed area and stone walls that surrounded it prevented any out of control spell from being collateral damage.

By now, she had reached puberty, and noticable curves had formed. She had turned out not being voloptuous like her mother, and had a rather slim built. She wasn't active beyond reading books, so her body had little lean muscle. As for her face, it developed into cute, although she was far from being beautiful like her mother had been. Still, had they been around, boys her age would have likely been attracted to what they saw, although her almost complete silence and fearful looks would have likely put them off. She had seen a few disturbing visions for the past few weeks that had put her in a paranoid mood, but she choose not to believe them.

Her magic was advancing quickly, although she still feigned the novice with her master. The books he showed her were basic spells she had mastered with a year of her training, but she still feigned inability at some of them, and waited patiently for him to teach her the books she had begun to read. In terms of what she was, she would have given herself 'adept' status, although she knew she had to gain a better mastery of control, otherwise she could never master more advance spells. As she began to cast another spell to summon ice, she was interrupted by by one of the doors to the courtyard. Turning around, she took a rather submissive stance, her hands fidgeting while pressed together against her waist. It was one of the maids, who gave her a rather dismissive look. Eris had grown, but she still had many nervous mannerisms. Even in the robes and general attire that accompanied a sorceress, she was still a nervous mouse that lived within the house. "Yes?"

"The master would like to have a word with you." The maid stared away, knowing what it was for. He had even prepared the spell to allow him to perform the act without any consequence. The woman didn't wait on Eris, turning away from the girl. The maid had quit, and simply did the last act as a service. Eris had mental trauma, anyone could see that, and the act would likely push the girl over the edge. As the maid left, Eris made her way to the master's chambers. As she entered, she kept her eyes downcast. "You wished to see me?"

She heard him make his way over, and when she felt him near her, a sudden choking sensation. Wide eyes stared up, hear ears picking up the tell tale signs of a spell, and her hands around her throat. As the spell completed, she coughed, hitting the floor with her hands and knees, but she didn't remain there for long. "Don't worry, girl, just a precaution."

She didn't resist, it was a response to pain she had learned as a child. As he threw her to the bed, she realized that her vision was true. As her clothes were torn off, she began to try to get away in earnest, but lacked both magical abilities, and physical ability to overpower her master. As her innocence was taken, her eyes went wide, tears filling them in absolute horror.

As her master got up, satisfied in the act, and of the contraceptive spell he had placed on her, Eris could only respond in curling into a fetal position, letting soft sobs escape her throat. She had seen this comming, and ignored it. Whatever semblence of trust she had, was gone, and her only response was to cry silently into the night. When morning broke, she returned her training, and when her master called, he used her. The only thing left was the cold void, which filled slowly with the pleasure magic had given her. And when he took her to one of his Circle meetings, she realized just how far she could go. They could use her body, but she would use them as well.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Tue Oct 05, 2010 11:17 am

Power is addictive, any fool who says otherwise is lying to you, or themselves. If it wasn't, there wouldn't be practitioners of sorcery. Of the schools, most tend to go into attack magic, as summoning can be dangerous... as for the third school, necromancy, I believe there are far more in Emkal than they would like to admit. Still, they go on with whatever laws against it, but there will always be those orders who seek it out, and there will always be books on the subject, rituals, and homunculus manufacture. In some cases, people stack books in thier shelves, and happen to come across one. Entire libraries left unread, primarily because magic books are fashionable, whether or not you know what lies within is just besides the matter. Thus, my first taste of necromancy came this way, with a fellow who had little knowledge of sorcery, and even smaller knowledge of what books he had collected.

***************************

Late teens and early twenties melded together for Eris. While she was the lowest wrung of the order, she wasn't really a part. She was used as a catalyst for rituals, an errand runner, or even a records keeper, but every one of the members saw her as little more than a servant, a plaything, and a docile pet that could be played with if the moment struck you to do so. Eris lost her timid personality, it washed away into a passive one, sarcastic, and fatalistic. On the inside, her thirst for power grew. Indeed, even when matching with apprentices, she held back, letting them display seemingly more power than she could muster, then realizing just how weak they were. Even some of the so called masters struck her as being inept in most matters, and sorcery was among them.

While her master used her as he wanted, she noted he was losing interest in her since 'breaking her', as he once said. With her leash fairly severed, beyond house hold chores, she had some semblence of freedom, which she used to visit other members of the order. It was easy to seduce them, and in the aftermath, use thier libraries for her own research. They didn't even notice if she stole thier books, but she supposed a sliver of hay within a mountain of it wouldn't be missed. It was during these outings that Eris stumbled upon a pecular book.

One of the elder members had lain with her, and after he had gone to sleep she had done her usual routine; going to the library, and read, or scribe as much as she could. While she was at this, she discovered a ornately bound book with black and gold letters. The magic symbol on the front wasn't recognizable, and while she had believed it to be summoning rituals, as she began to read through it, she came to a realization of what it was. Necromancy.

It was a fairly lamen book, likely written out of novelty and hidden some place. The premise of it was animation, although it little went beyond how to animate a mouse. While she read this, she decided she may as well perform the rite on her own. As usual, the stolen book was never noticed, although even if it had been, the true owner couldn't bring it about in public, or accusations, without a backlash effect.

Procuring a place for the ritual was easy, and the wards she placed would prevent the miniscule energies she would be using. According to the book, the animation required very little mana, ones own reserves were more than enough, and if not, a small plant. Proclaiming the reagents for it was easy work, a small plant, and some chalk for the wards and ritual circle was common as dirt in Emkal. As for the mouse, it took little more than a visit to the manor's kitchen, and a simple freezing spell to stop the creature's heart, its blood freezing in its veins. Painless, she had always assumed.

The ritual itself only took a few moments, although several more went by while Eris studied each word carefully, engraining them into her mind. Setting the plant down, she started the ritual, watching as the ruins chalked on ground gave off an eerie glow, the mouse within the center illuminated by shades of purple and shadows. When it was done, the creature laid still, and Eris frowned. She had followed the instructions carefully, as she began to go back to the ritual itself, she noticed small movement.

The mouse moved slightly, but it was odd movements. It wasn't the same as normal, free, flowing movement. It was jerky, unnatural, as if strings had been placed above the creature and jerked it lightly. After a few minutes more, the creature finally arroused, up on its four legs, but the opaque within its eyes and the stiffness of its movements marked it as dead, but still moving none the same. As she used her magic to manipulate it further, a grin came to her face. Frost magic had proven to give her power, and she reveled in it, but the power of life and death itself was intoxicating, and she reveled in it more. When she was done, she sent the mouse into the sewers to wait. Whether it was destroyed at this point was no consequence, and she wondered if it were a zombie, if it would infect other creatures if she wanted it to. An amused chuckle escaped her lips, and she caught herself... she hadn't laughed for so long, and it had actually startled her. Puzzled, she destroyed the book, no longer needing it, but taking the ritual into heart. She would have to obtain more of these books, the knowledge of them alone was invigorating... mastering this new found power could only be a several times greater feeling.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Sun Nov 07, 2010 10:29 pm

Its amusing, really. I've never been religious, I always felt I had been abandoned by the gods. But I suppose I was blessed with beauty, and what I initially believed to be a very long life. But on my twenty fifth year on this wretched worlds, I noticed something out of place. A wrinkle. I had begun to age. While at the time I had believed that I was totally forsaken, only after many years did I come to the realization that, in taking up necromancy, the price had been my dra'nafod heritage. I began to age, and it was then I had realized that my mortality had been set. While I was surprised at first, I had grasped enough knowledge to know of another path, although it would take several years to obtain the reagents for it. In the mean time, my master had found a new plaything. With my body aging normally, he had lost interest in me, but still kept me about his home as a slave.

It was fine, really. While he taught at the academy, and eventually took a apprentice. As for me, I continued my gathering of reagents, careful to plan every move fully.

******************************

She had grown less mousy, and while she still did her 'master's' bidding, she had taken into speaking against him at meetings, although with the rest of the circle considering her inferior, rarely were Eris' suggestions taken into consideration. Still, with thier total underestimation of her, gathering the reagents she needed to obtain the immortality that had been stripped of her remained relatively easy. So far, she had collected the legal items she needed, although due to careful study of her visions, she had become aware of various pitfalls that would assail her, and had taken steps to prevent it.

By now, she had grown more powerful than the majority of her circle. In truth, only three in thier number remained above her in strength, even if they didn't recognize it. Her master was one, and two elders, one of which was on death's bad. While she still feigned weakness, on occation she let a brief glance at the true power she held. In a duel with an arrogent apprentice, she had twisted his spell back onto him, although everyone had sworn he had simply miscasted. What they hadn't seen was the sliver of ice that had formed inside his throat... the reprecussions had been nearly lethal, and after he had regained consciousness several weeks later, he hadn't remembered the cold touch, only the initial aftermath. Eris, meanwhile, feigned ignorance as she always had.

As for her master, he had begun to teach at one of the academies. While he was middle aged now, and had shades of grey in his ebon locks, many of his students had taken a liking to him for his carefree attitude and lack of homework. Of course, Eris recognized it was all an act to gain trust. And after a few months, he had already began to find potential targets. After a year, he had found an 'apprentice'. The girl was young, in her mid teens, blonde, and innocent. While she was full blooded human as far as Eris could tell, she had a remarkable beauty. Most of all, she was naive.

When he first brought her around, Eris had treated her dismissively, but as time went on, she could see the machinations. While the girl trained diligently, he only waited for a chance. Eris, recognized the hunt, his eyes roving over the girl when she wasn't looking, and the comments he made to his fellow sorcerer's within the circle. All through this, Eris remained silent as the grave, feigning indifference, playing the fool around others, and even the girl. All the while she collected what she needed, gathering the wards and reagents for the cast itself, the mana crystals... and while it had taken the majority of the time, she had obtained a dusty and near destroyed ritual book containing the spell she was after. The book had costed quite a bit, and much blood had been shed to obtain it, but mercenaries proved reliable in the end. The only thing she needed now was the final, most important component... the sacrifice.
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Re: Eris, the Fallen One

Post by little knight » Sat Jun 30, 2012 11:33 pm

There is always a price to power. The price a sorcerer must pay is knowledge that the world around you withers and dies. Most are arrogant and simply choose to ignore this seeing the power they wield absolute. But for what I needed stemmed beyond taking mana from the world. Ancient magic dictated at least a portion of immortality, even if it was diluted.

But therin lied a flaw. No immortal I could attain had wronged me. The idayn did not speak with me, angels and demons lay across a planar rift, and the dra'nafod within the wood had never gone out of thier way to torment me... but ahh, then I recalled my own blood, and my dear mother. Half Dra'nafod was not totally imperfect, it lacked the pure essence, but the blood still retained its immortal memory. It had been a risk, that was true, but my own bitter memories of the woman fueled my thirst for her to be the sacrifice. Still, I had believed I was months away from performing the ritual. While I had the means, I needed to steel myself... at least thats what I thought. Fate, however, tends to push one's limits at times.

************************************

Eris stared at the words once more, her eyes glancing over each word. It was funny, really. Words so simple, so innocent, and yet placed together led to the death of one to raise another. She thought more and more about it, the taking of a life. She had always used means to get such things, but for this ritual to succeed, she herself needed to weild the blade and chant the words. It was unnerving, but with each day and wrinkle, she knew full well she would steel herself. Her trance was broken by the sounds of a woman crying nearby.

The voice was known to her. She had heard it numerous over the last few months, the master's new 'apprentice'. A star pupil, or maybe one that just adored him, trusted him... and judging by those sobs, he was showing her just how misplaced that trust was. It was an all to familiar story, and she knew its ending, for she was it. Placing a gloved hand in the book, she marked it and sat up.

Eris didn't know what fueled the feelings of wanting to help. Rage, anguish, perhaps she just saw herself in the young woman... either way, she found herself walking with purpose towards the master chamber, her face cold and rigid, her jaw set...
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